Torment (B.A.D. Inc Book 1) Read online

  “It’s Karla,” she fumes. “Well, I’m sure you could get that rearranged. I think we could have a great time together, get to know each other a little better. What do you say?” Her hand lands on my forearm.

  “Excuse me.” Mia rushes from the booth so fast she almost lands on her arse. I watch her go, wishing I wasn’t stuck here beside her overly forward best friend. I like all kinds of women, but pushy ones are a no go for me. They’re the ones most likely to turn into clingers and I’ve had my fill of those over the years.

  “And then there were two.” She turns towards me, her knee hitting my thigh. Her skirt is so short that I can see the colour of her underwear, but I lift my eyes before she gets the wrong idea.

  “We were just about to order—”

  “Perfect. I’m starved. What’s good here, aside from the obvious?” She winks at me and I fight the need to push her from the booth so I can leave. If it weren’t for Mia being in the bathroom, I’d have left a long time ago.

  But one thing comes to mind. Mia did look bothered that her friend had turned up, so maybe I can turn this to my advantage after all.

  Chapter Four

  Mia

  I grip tightly onto the sink in the ladies’ bathroom as I try to get a hold on my emotions. I’m pissed off beyond comprehension that Karla has turned up. How did she know where we were? She must have called the B.A.D. offices because Deacon had contacted me by text, unless she’d been snooping at my phone?

  Well, I wouldn’t be surprised to find mention of a weak bladder in his interview now I’ve come in here again, but I just couldn’t deal with Karla making a complete idiot of herself in front of me. As I stare at myself in the mirror above the sink, I let the truth of my thoughts out. It’s not about what Karla is doing, it’s who she’s doing it with.

  I am interested in Deacon King.

  Despite the fact that he’s probably every kind of bad for me, and women in general, there’s something about him beyond his looks that’s spiked my interest. Oh don’t get me wrong, my mouth is salivating at wondering what he’s like between the sheets, but that fake smile. What’s it masking? I want to know. I’ve always been an inquisitive person; it’s why I’ve been studying law in my spare time. No one knows this but me and Karla. I get bored easily and law has given me an interest beyond the foundations and mascaras I love and recommend.

  I’ve got to go back out there. If nothing else, I need to make sure my best friend is not currently on her knees in the middle of the bar.

  I have to stop from rolling my eyes when I come back out and she’s moving his fringe out of his face.

  “Everything okay?” he asks me.

  “Peachy. How’s it going here?” I look between them.

  Karla smiles wide showing off her orthodontist’s best work, “I’m still trying to persuade Deacon to interview me. You tell him, Mia. Oh, and I think he should get a haircut. His fringe is covering his beautiful eyes.”

  “Well, I’m sure Mr. King knows whether or not his haircut is working for him.” He tilts his head so his fringe falls back into his eyes and then winks at me. “And I think it’s up to him and his colleagues to set up their own interviews...”

  “I’m here now, you might as well do me,” she says and it’s so obvious what she actually means that I cringe inwardly.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Deacon drawls. “Can you just excuse me a moment?” Karla beams once more and Deacon heads off towards the bathroom himself.

  “Karla, what the fuck are you playing at and how did you know where I was?” I yell.

  “I put a tracker on your phone ages ago. I always know where you are.”

  “You did what?” I’m going to lecture her but then decide to close my mouth. It’s not like she seems to have any intention of listening. She’s on a mission. A King-sized mission. I go into my settings though and switch the tracker off.

  She shrugs. “Anyway, you’ve been here ages. Your interview must be almost over, right? So if Deacon doesn’t want to carry on with me, we could head up King’s Road.”

  “I’m not in a shopping mood. After lunch I’m going to go and lie on my bed and watch a film. If we have the shoot tomorrow, I’m making sure I have an early night, so I look fresh for the camera. I suggest you do the same.”

  Karla scrunches up her nose. “Oh that’s what the make-up department and lighting experts are for. Plus, they can retouch everything anyway these days. We probably don’t even have to actually be there; can’t they just virtually make us appear? Now, let me finish looking at this menu so I can decide what I’m having for my main course before I have Mr. King for dessert.” She waggles her brows at me.

  When Deacon comes back to the table he watches as Karla slides up to make room for him and then he slides in at the side of me.

  “Better that I face you while I’m asking you questions, right?” he tells her.

  “Oh, erm, sure.” Karla’s composure drops for a second before she fixes a smile back on her face.

  He slides his leg right alongside mine and I’m already so far up the seating I can’t move away from him. And then the bastard slips his hand down under the table and squeezes my knee before trailing his hand up my thigh and then back onto the table.

  For a moment I’m frozen in place. How the fuck do I react to that? I decide ignoring him is the best response.

  Lunch itself is a bore. The food is delicious, but the conversation is monopolised by Karla, who drinks so much champagne she can barely string a sentence together by the time she’s eaten her main course. Her attempts to flirt with Deacon have largely hit a brick wall, with him just throwing the odd crumb her way when she gets desperate and loud. His supposed interview questions are bland invitations for Karla to talk about herself for ages while he continues to press his thigh against mine.

  “You wet for me yet?” he whispers while Karla is giggling at a joke only she finds funny.

  “What?” I try to press myself up against the edge of the banquette. Deacon’s gaze burns through me as he turns to Karla.

  “Well, looks like it’s time to go.”

  “Come back to ours,” Karla begs. It’s needy and I can almost feel Deacon’s revulsion in the air. So much so that I try to save her from humiliation.

  “No, Karla. We need to get home and Mr. King needs to go back to work.”

  “Actually, I’m in no rush,” he says, a smirk curling his top lip. “Maybe I should come visit the soon to be famous apartment?”

  “Ohhhh that’s a great idea. I can give you a tour of my bedroom. Let me just go visit the ladies. You can be getting the bill,” she tells him, smiling coyly and batting her lashes.

  As soon as she’s gone, he gives me some space, leaning back on his seat and putting a foot up on the bench seat just vacated by Karla. It’s a very polished black shoe, no doubt designer.

  “So, Mia. The way I look at it, is right now I’m about to visit your apartment and this can go one of a few ways. I can sleep with your friend Karla, I can sleep with you, or I can sleep with both of you.”

  “Or you can just go fuck yourself.” I grimace at him.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to be one of the options.” He laughs and it’s full of pure malice, the easy-going mask having slipped completely off his face, showing me the real Deacon King that lies beneath. “I get what I want, Mia. That’s how it goes. So for me to offer you the choice, well, you should be flattered. Now, Karla looks like she’d be a lot of fun, but she’s not who I want to fuck… you are.”

  Despite the fact he’s behaving like an absolute dog, his words have my panties soaked. I wonder what he would be like in bed. It’s been awhile and something tells me that sex with Deacon King would be worlds apart from sex with my ex. Maybe it’s worth being fucked over to be fucked good and proper.

  “Leave my friend alone,” I warn him.

  “Well, you’re the only one who can make that happen,” he reminds me, just as Karla returns.

  “Come on then. Let
’s go.” She giggles.

  “Let’s.” Deacon takes her hand, but while he does, he’s looking at me, challenge in his eyes. Mr. King is a game player, and the next move is mine.

  I arrange for my driver to take us back to our apartment. He drives through the concealed entrance to our underground car park and once the car is stationary, he opens the door to allow us to exit the vehicle. As security lets me in the building, I tell the doorman my usual, “Thank you, Roger.” Should I ever say, ‘Thank you, Benjamin,’ they’d know I was in trouble. It’s not beyond the realms of possibility for someone to try to enter our building to get our jewellery and us be accompanied by a robber with a gun at our backs, and so unfortunately these things have to be planned for. The concealed entrance to the car park helps and the security pass is another layer. Deacon says nothing as we head up in the lift to our apartment, though his eyes keep meeting mine, challenging me with looks alone.

  I place my key card against the door and hear the familiar click. Pushing it open, the coolness of the air conditioning hits me, Karla has always liked it cooler than I.

  Deacon assesses everything as he walks in, his gaze wandering through the hallway.

  “I’m just going to my room to change. I won’t be a sec,” Karla announces. “Do you want to come with me, Deacon?” she slurs.

  “I’m just going to let Mia give me a tour of the rest of the place,” he tells her.

  “Don’t keep me waiting for long,” she says huskily and then she sashays towards her room, although due to the copious amounts of alcohol she’s drunk it’s not as glamorous as she’s possibly imagining.

  His lips part slightly as he follows me into the vast open-plan living area complete with sofas, coffee tables, a dining table that seats fourteen, and floor-to-ceiling windows and doors. The doors open onto a wraparound balcony and our view is of Hyde Park.

  The tension between us is palpable. It’s like it hangs in the air, swirling tendrils of lust and recklessness waiting for a chance to consume me completely.

  “Would you like a drink?” I ask him, anything to break this feeling of being on a cliff edge.

  “What do you have? I have particular tastes.”

  “I have a concierge service. I have everything.”

  “Of course you do. I’ll take a scotch, any variety.” He mocks me from earlier. I call and order one of the best.

  “I thought I was rich, but this is on another level entirely,” he states.

  I scoff. “But is your money your own? This is funded by my mother from my father’s music empire, and by the money of the Forbes’.”

  “True. Does it get boring being able to have everything you want?” he asks me.

  “Does it get boring being able to have everyone you want?” I boomerang back. “Anyway, I don’t get everything I want.”

  “Maybe I don’t either…”

  The door buzzes and after listening to the intercom, I greet the porter who brings up the scotch on a trolley, along with a chilled glass and extra ice. He delivers it to the living area and I escort him back to the door.

  When I return, Deacon is sitting on the arm of one of the sofas looking out at the view, a scotch in his hand.

  “Your roommate’s quiet.”

  “She’s probably asleep on the bed. I’d better go check.” As I move to leave, he stands and grabs my arm, swinging me around and backing me up against the side of the sofa.

  “I want you,” he growls.

  My heart pounds with the shock and by how near he is to me. I can feel his hardness pressed against my stomach. Looking directly into his eyes, I narrow mine. “You. Can’t. Have. Me. Other women might, but I’m not falling for your charm.” I sneer at him, although I’m not sure if either of us believes what I’m saying.

  He lets go of me and pushes so I fall over the sofa. I scream a little in shock and look at him, my eyes wide. Did he really just do that?

  “You look like you’re falling to me, but I’ll go and check on Karla then if you’re not interested. If she’s not too drunk, I’m sure she won’t turn me down.” With that he begins to stalk out of the room.

  I push myself up and follow, fuming about what he just did. There is no way I’m trusting him to make sure my friend is okay. As he pushes open her door, I can hear the faint sound of snoring coming through and sure enough Karla has just laid on her bed and fallen asleep.

  “Pity,” Deacon snaps walking back out of the door.

  I close it behind me. “Looks like your plans are fucked, and not the way you wanted them to be.” I smirk.

  His eyes flash with fury and once more he crowds me, backing me up against the wall at the side of Karla’s door.

  “Oh, I’m going to fuck your friend, and then I’m going to break her. Have her thinking I’m falling in love with her, that she’s the one, and then I’ll block her number and pretend she doesn’t exist. I’ll push her until she’s at my door in tears on her knees, begging for the smallest scrap of me, and I know I can do it, because I’ve done it so many, many times before.” His words along with his breath caress against my ear. My body shivers with his proximity rather than his threats. “All you have to do to stop me, to protect your friend, is to admit you want me.” He continues. “I’m not going to force you to come to me, you’ll have to ask for it. But that’s what you need to do, or your friend is going to become my new chew toy.”

  I should push him away, slap his face, call my security to have him thrown out. I can almost hear my inner voice shouting don’t do it, but something about this game we’re playing, this chemistry reacting between us, has me wondering what fucking him would be like. I can fool myself that what I say next is to save my friend, but I know it’s in response to the fact I can feel my arousal pooling in my panties and my breath is coming in short, ragged gasps.

  “So, I’ll say it again. I want you.” Deacon enunciates into my ear.

  Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

  His tongue snakes out and licks the top of my earlobe, down until it’s trailing down my neck and making me shiver. Game over. “Then have me.” I tell him.

  Chapter Five

  Deacon

  My eyes bounce between hers before dropping to her tits. Her chest is heaving. I admire her willingness to help her friend out, but she doesn’t realise that everything I just threatened to do to her friend could very well end up happening to her. Women fall for me even when they have no intention of doing so. There’s not a lot I can do about that; they know the deal when they embark on something with me. I don’t do forever and I really don’t do happily ever fucking afters.

  She gasps when I wrap my fingers around the fabric of her pristine white blouse and tug. The fabric tears and buttons ping around on the polished tiled floor at our feet.

  Her swollen breasts press against the lace and make my mouth water. I shrug my jacket off and let it drop to the floor before loosening my tie and undoing my top button.

  I make quick work of the button on her jeans and in mere seconds she’s standing before me in only her white lingerie. A smile curls at the corner of my mouth. It might be the colour of innocence, but she’ll be anything but by the time I’ve finished with her.

  “I told you, I always get what I want.”

  My fingers thread into her hair and I pull her head back, giving me the access I want to her neck again after her previous reaction. I press my lips against her pulse that’s thundering just beneath the skin. She smells like flowers, but not the overly sweet ‘makes your teeth shiver’ kind, more the kind you could smell forever and never get bored of. Of course, by forever I mean the next hour or so as I take exactly what I need from this woman.

  “You might think you appear indifferent, but I see more, Ms. Hamilton. I see what you really want. What you really need.” A needy whimper falls from her lips. I’ve no doubt that she’s going to regret this in the morning, but that’s not my concern. I’m merely doing as I was told.

  Pulling the cups of her bra down, I drag
my lips over the soft skin of her breasts before sucking her nipple into my mouth. Her head falls back against the wall with a thud, but it doesn’t stop her. Instead, her back arches, pushing her tits into my face and her hand slides into my hair, keeping me in place.

  “You wet for me yet?” I repeat my question from the bar, hoping that I’ll get an honest answer this time seeing as there really is only one she can give.

  She doesn’t respond, instead her grip tightens in my hair and she tugs until I look up at her.

  “Maybe it’s time to find out.” Our eyes hold for a beat. It’s almost as if she’s challenging me, but it makes me laugh inside because she’s nowhere near a challenge when she’s standing there offering herself to me.

  Standing, I grab her behind the thighs and lift her from the floor. Her tits bounce in my face, but I want more. She squeals in surprise and holds on as if I’m about to take her to her bedroom. I don’t fucking think so.

  I drop her to the floor, right outside her best friend’s bedroom door. Karla could emerge from her champagne coma at any moment but that doesn't seem to bother Mia right now as she stares at me, her green eyes almost black with her desire.

  “What? You not man enough for the job after all?”

  “Fuck you,” I spit, ripping the lace from her hips. They probably cost more than most people’s weekly shop but looking at this place tells me that she can well afford some replacements.

  Pushing her thighs wide, I stare down at her pussy. She’s wet for me that’s for fucking sure. Her desire glistens courtesy of the bright spotlights above, making my mouth water for her.

  “Deacon,” she moans.

  The temptation to deny her is right there. I’m so close to walking away just to teach her a lesson for playing games, but with the scent of her need surrounding me, I’m powerless but to drop to my front. I part her and suck on her clit, hard.

  She cries out. Her back arching, her hips lifting from the warm tiles as she tries to get away from the sweet torture. Like fuck that’s happening now I’ve got my mouth on her.