Exposed: A British Bad Boy Romance Read online

  And now, she’s trying to threaten my reputation or something? That’s rich.

  I laugh and let my hand glide over her hip, delighting in the way she tenses and watches my splayed fingers as if they’re covered in venomous stingers.

  “Flattering? I’m sorry, sweetheart, do you even know what kind of reputation I’ve got?”

  She rolls her eyes and takes a long drink of her coffee, ignoring my fingertips teasing the waistband of her pants.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? This hangover has sandpaper in my mouth, a fucking stampede of elephants in my temples and I’m still thinking of ways to get her naked.

  “I know enough. I also know that your manager is quite set on you actually cooperating with this interview and even if you don’t care about pissing me off, you probably don’t want to get on his bad side.”

  Fuck me, she’s got a point. Not that I’ll let her know it.

  I take a step back and cross my arms over my chest, watching her lick those pouty pink lips as she gives my physique a once-over. Yeah. Suzette may think that she’s got an ice-cold facade, but I see right through that.

  “Elliot works for me, luv, not the other way around.”

  She throws up her hands and lets out this fucking adorable little groan of frustration at me, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed with this sexy angry look. It takes nearly all of my willpower to not smirk at her.

  “You’re fucking impossible, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “No,” she cuts me off with a sharp look and a pointing finger, “You’re ridiculous. You think you’re this big tough World Famous Chef and that means everyone’s just going to bend over backwards to make you happy, but that’s not my fucking job.”

  Now I do smirk, taking the opportunity to let my lips drift toward her ear.

  “But you’d love bending over for me, wouldn’t you Suzette?” I husk, barely letting my lips touch her earlobe.

  She shivers and, God help me, I’m about ready to embarrass myself right then and there.

  Her breath catches and I see her chest flush with excitement but then her eyes are stony again and she narrows her gaze at me.

  “You’re disgusting. And unprofessional. If you don’t want to do the fucking interview then you need to take that up with your manager because until I’ve heard otherwise, I’m going to be writing it. With or without your cooperation.”

  The girl’s got spunk. I’ll give her that. Not many people would be able to show up at my hotel room while I’m still half-drunk and completely hungover and live to tell the tale. Something about the fire in her eyes makes me want to dig deeper into Suzette Quincy. I want to know what makes her tick.

  And then I want to watch her come undone beneath me. Crying out ‘Jasper Wild’ for the whole fucking world to hear.

  “So, what’s in it for me, then?”

  Her mouth falls open in a surprised little ‘o’ and she looks genuinely shocked as she tries to take in my words.

  “Um… what?”

  “Your questions. I answer them, yeah? What’s in it for me?”

  She frowns and puts a hand on her hip, “Oh, I don’t know,” she sasses, “exposure? Good publicity? A positive public opinion?”

  I shrug, and take another swig of my coffee — strong and spicy, just the way I like it — and let her flounder there in silence for a moment before answering.

  “Exposure I’ve got. Publicity is easy to come by… Public opinion? I couldn’t give a rat’s arse. What are you, Suzette Quincy, going to offer me?”

  She nibbles her bottom lip and I just want to lunge forward and capture that prissy pout with my mouth until she’s moaning and panting beneath me.

  Instead, I wait for her to mull it over, every muscle in my body coiled tightly, ready to pounce.

  “How about breakfast?”

  I laugh; genuine real, not at all sarcastic laughter. Her face falls and she throws up her hands again.

  “You don’t have to be such an ass,” she grumbles as she marches for the door.

  I reach out a hand to stop her, closing around her elbow to pull her back towards me, “Wait, no. I didn’t mean it like that,” I say too quickly, hearing the faintest tinge of desperation in my tone.

  What the fuck is that about? Jasper Wild isn’t desperate for anything. Let alone some proper little wannabe journalist who isn’t at all impressed by him.

  Yes, I did just refer to myself in the third-fucking-person. This hangover is making it too difficult to function like a normal human and food sounds wonderful, so I nod.

  “I’m sorry, that just took me by surprise. Generally I’m the one feeding people, not the other way around.”

  Suzette wrinkles her nose and waves her hands at me in an exaggerated gesture, “Fine, I’ll still take you to breakfast since you apologized, but you definitely have to shower before I’ll be seen in public with you.”

  Apologized? I didn’t do that, did I? Fucking hell. This hangover is worse than I thought.

  I give her my patented panty-dropping grin and a wink, “You sure you don’t wanna join me, luv?”

  She sets her jaw in a firm line and I’m almost positive she’s gritting her teeth at me, “Don’t make me regret this,” she says with a warning tone.

  I don’t know why that stern statement has my blood running hot in my veins. I can’t get images of Suzette, naked and dripping in my shower, her body surrounded by steam as her moans echo off the tile walls, out of my blasphemous head.

  I shrug and turn to leave, “Suit yourself.” And just as I walk through the door to the bedroom, I drop my boxers, knowing full well she’s still watching my behind.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Susie

  I realize what he’s done a moment too late and feel my cheeks turn bright red as I all but outright stare at his ass.

  And damn. What an ass.

  I’ve never been much of an ass girl, really, but something about the hard planes of his broad shoulders tapering down to the dimple at the base of his spine, just drags my eyes straight down to that perfectly muscular ass.

  My mouth actually waters and I hurry to cover my eyes and shriek as he glances over his shoulder to flash me that cocky fucking grin again.

  “Like what you see? Last chance to join, luv,” he says with a smile that makes my insides stir to life.

  I throw my now-empty coffee cup at his head and he ducks into the bathroom, chuckling to himself.

  I hear the water start, the shower curtain pull back, and I can’t help imagining the water running down Jasper’s perfect body.

  A body like that isn’t even fair. It isn’t something that real people have. That kind of body is for like… sculptures by Michelangelo or photoshopped models on magazines.

  Seeing a body like Jasper’s out in the real world is kind of dazzling. In the sense that it left me actually tongue-tied and speechless. I can’t even begin to explain how embarrassing that is.

  The sound of Jasper singing in the shower breaks me out of my daydreams and I feel a smile tug at my lips as I recognize the song. I find myself humming along as I start to pick up some of the mess around his hotel room.

  How can anyone even live in this kind of filth? I can’t even stand to wait in it, let alone live in it.

  Then he’s taking the familiar words of the song and changing them, making them dirty, adding references to drugs and sex positions I’m not sure are even humanly possible into the otherwise innocent song.

  The shower stops and after a few moments, Jasper’s coming out of the bathroom with a towel slung low over his hips and another in his hand, ruffling through his dark hair.

  “You know, my grandma used to sing that song. Thanks for ruining those childhood memories,” I say with a harsher tone than I mean to.

  He just grins, “Any time, luv.”

  I roll my eyes at the endearment, already feeling it grate under my skin even though I don’t normally let things like that bother me. Growing
up in the south everyone was ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darlin’. It shouldn’t bother me that he calls me ‘luv’; he probably does it to everyone.

  He disappears into the walk-in closet in the bedroom and re-emerges with a pair of pants on — much to my relief.

  “Hey, what do you think you’re doing out here?”

  He’s buckling his belt as he walks into the living area and pulls a face at the clean surfaces and missing trash piles.

  “I don’t know how you can stand all that trash around,” I say, washing my hands after tying up a garbage bag.

  For a moment, all the playfulness is gone from Jasper’s expression and my blood turns cold. His eyes are dark and stormy, his brow furrowed and deep.

  “Don’t touch my things again,” he says in a cold tone that brooks no argument.

  “I… I’m sorry, I was just trying to—”

  He holds up a hand, “Just don’t.”

  I nod, feeling like I’ve just been reprimanded without knowing what I’ve done wrong.

  But as quickly as his dark mood came, it goes. He grabs a shirt from the couch and slips it over his head with a grin, “So, where are you taking me?”

  “I… uh…”

  “Hadn’t thought that far had you?” he guesses and I clench my jaw, hoping to avoid confirming his suspicions.

  “Well, I thought that someone of your… er… stature,” I say the word with an eye roll and a flouncy hand gesture, “would be… particular about where he ate?”

  He laughs at me again and I feel my blood start to boil before I notice the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the appreciative look he sends my way afterwards.

  “Nah, luv. You’ve got me all wrong. Give me a greasy dive and I’m in heaven. Greasier the better, actually, with this fuckin’ hangover.”

  “Well then, I know just the place,” I say a hair too brightly.

  He opens the door and gestures for me to walk past, “Ladies first.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jasper

  “I’ve got to hand it to you, Suzette, you know a good burger place,” I say, wiping at the grease dripping down my chin.

  I’m still not sure how we got here — a taxi ride and a twisty jaunt through a labyrinth of alleyways led us to this non-descript barred door. Suzette rang the doorbell and the door swung open like we were just granted admission to an underground gambling hall or something.

  But inside, ‘Grubby Lou’s’ is pure charm. There can’t be more than a handful of tables and one hairy old guy sweating his ass off back on the line. No substitutions, no special orders. You take it the way Lou gives it to you and you’ll fucking like it.

  I love it.

  She pops a fry in her mouth with a smug look of satisfaction twinkling in her eyes, “Susie,” she says.

  “Hmm?” I take another giant bite of my triple bypass burger — three patties, three cheeses and a plateful of grease to wash it down with.

  She rolls her eyes and dips her fry in Lou’s ‘special sauce’ before she looks away, “Just call me Susie. No one calls me Suzette.” She chomps down on the fry and I swallow my bite before answering.

  “Ivan did,” I say.

  “Yeah, well, if you didn’t notice, Ivan probably wasn’t even aware I worked there until yesterday,” she sighs.

  It seems like a sore spot with her and as much as my instincts tell me to poke at it until I break her and she runs off crying never wanting to speak to Jasper Wild again, I change the subject instead.

  “So, what’s in this special sauce that’s worth paying an extra sixty-nine cents?” I ask, reaching across the table to dip my fry in her sauce.

  How does my brain turn something that innocent into something sexual?

  She swats my hand away with a playful laugh, “If Lou told everyone it wouldn’t be so special. But you didn’t want to spend sixty-nine cents, so stay out of my sauce.”

  I grin and lean back in my chair, my fingers clasped behind my head, “Now now, Susie, don’t undersell yourself. I’m sure your sauce is worth much more than sixty-nine cents.”

  The playful grin turns into a kind of surprised and confused look and then she’s turning crimson, looking down at her lap as she wipes her hands on her napkin.

  She clears her throat and I can tell the moment’s gone. The chink in professional Suzette’s armor has been repaired and my chance to see what’s underneath is gone.

  “So, why have you never agreed to an interview before?” she asks, pushing away the remnants of her meal to place her elbows on the table.

  I frown and shrug, “Well, I don’t know Miss Quincy, that sounds an awful lot like an interview question to me.”

  Susie gestures to the hole in the wall we’re currently occupying, “I got you breakfast didn’t I?”

  I pop the last bite of my burger in my mouth and take my time licking each and every finger clean while she watches with hungry lust in her eyes. Whether she wants to admit it or not, Susie is going to give in to me. It’s the only way I’m going to get her out of my fucking mind.

  “That you did,” I say thoughtfully, “but that only earned you the pitch. Now you’re going to have to sell me on it.”

  “You are so full of yourself,” she says with crossed arms and an eye roll.

  I smirk, leaning across the table, “Wouldn’t you like to know what it’s like to be full of me, Susie?”

  She laughs, a high-pitched humorless sound that tells me I’ve taken a step too far.

  But she is pretty cute all flustered.

  Suzette sputters and flails her hands around wildly — at least the only other person present to witness her charades is Lou.

  “You know what? I give up. I tried to treat you like a decent human, but you’re ridiculous. Would it be so freaking hard to just cooperate? If you’re not worried about how this story turns out, then I’m not going to try to give you the benefit of the doubt any more.”

  “Is that what you were doing, luv? See, I thought you’re just a hungry young writer looking to make a name for herself by catching the big whale. Elliot thinks he’s slick. He thinks I’ll talk to you because I want to fuck you. But you’ve taken care of that little complication, now haven’t you? I’ve lost interest, now.”

  It’s not true. I wish it was. I hope she believes me anyway.

  I didn’t even know someone could turn that shade of red. Suzette looks like she’s ready to explode as she pushes back from her seat, standing and pointing an accusatory finger at me.

  “You… you’re such a…”

  “Spit it out, dear,” I say casually, reaching for my soda, “though I’d much prefer to see you swallow,” I add with a wink.

  I know I should stop, but I just don’t know how. Getting a rise out of her has become my main mission and I’m desperate to see just how pink I can make her turn.

  I’m taking a long swig of the sugary drink when she stamps her foot and says, “You’re an insufferable dick.” She smacks the bottom of my cup, sending ice and soda down my pants before stomping out of the burger dive.

  I’ve only got a moment to process my shock and anger before Lou pokes his head through the service window and jerks it to the side, “Mop’s behind the counter,” he says in a gruff Brooklyn accent.

  As pissed off as I am, I’m no stranger to scrubbing floors and I know when to clean up my own mess, so I grab the mop and set to work cleaning the grimy tile of this shithole no one even knows about while cursing the day I ever met Suzette Quincy.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Susie

  “Alright, time to spill,” Alisha says over the whir of the blender. She’s making her morning ‘superfood’ smoothie, dressed head-to-toe in spandex ready for her run around the park.

  I look up from the bowl of sugary cereal in front of me and frown, “What are you talking about?”

  Alisha sighs and flips her long sleek black ponytail over her shoulder in an exasperated gesture, “You’ve been moping around here for the past three days. Have
you even gotten out of your PJs?”

  I scowl at the fuzzy cartoon covered pants I’m wearing and shrug, “Just feeling a little under the weather, I guess.”

  My roommate’s not buying it. Not even for a second. The blender stops and she pours the green concoction into her travel mug before plopping it on the counter a little harder than necessary.

  “Bullshit. I’ve known you since middle school, you’re not going to start hiding things from me now, are you?”

  I stuff a spoonful of cereal in my mouth to avoid having to answer, but she waits, eyebrows narrowed, hands on her hips.

  With a sigh I let my spoon clatter into the bowl and look up at her once more, “I got an assignment that could get me out of the tabloids and into something bigger.”

  Alisha claps her hands and gives out an excited squeal at an octave I’m sure only dogs can hear.

  “Oh. My. God! That’s awesome, Suze!”

  I give a humorless laugh, “Yeah. Or, well it would be if it weren’t impossible.”

  Her hazel eyes go wide and for a moment I wonder why she bothers putting on make-up before a run, but I know the answer already — ‘best foot forward’ is kind of Alisha’s life motto.

  “Wait a minute… Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” she teases, narrowing her gaze at me. “The Suze I know doesn’t even know the word ‘impossible’.”

  “That’s kind of insulting to my alma mater, you know,” I joke back, drinking the pink-tinged milk leftover from my cereal with a long slurp. “I wish I was exaggerating, though.”

  Alisha’s forgotten all about her run now and is pulling up a chair next to me at the breakfast bar, “You have to tell me, now. What’s this crazy impossible assignment?”

  I groan, dropping my head to the counter. I don’t even want to acknowledge it out loud at this point. She’s totally right: I’ve been sulking ever since the breakfast with Jasper. It had all seemed so promising for a moment. He struck me as a real person and then in a flash it was all gone.

  Impossible.

  “Ugh. They want me to write a bio on that famous chef, Jasper Wild.”