Wicked Bedmate: A Cocky Hero Club Production Read online




  Wicked Bedmate

  A Cocky Hero Club Production

  Jenika Snow

  WICKED BEDMATE

  By Jenika Snow

  www.JenikaSnow.com

  [email protected]

  www.cockyheroclub.com

  Copyright © 2020 by Jenika Snow & Cocky Hero Club Productions

  First ebook publication © 2020 Jenika Snow & Cocky Hero Club Productions

  Cover design by: Designs by Dana

  Editor: Kasi Alexander

  Content Editor: Kayla Robichaux

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  Contents

  Forward

  Synopsis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Wicked Bedmate is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Stuck-Up Suit. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.

  Getting fired and humiliated in front of everyone at my newly acquired secretarial job at Morgan Financial Holdings wasn’t how I’d seen my day going.

  And then chaos—or maybe luck—ensued.

  I was set up on a blind date, shocked that my former boss was giving me a month’s severance, and had the perfect interview lined up.

  Maybe things were looking up for me after all.

  And although finding a man should have been on the bottom of my to-do list, I couldn’t get Jason—the uber-sexy blind date—out of my head. Sexy and confident—or maybe arrogant—he had me yearning for more with just a smoldering look and a smirk of his lips.

  But when a night of drinking led to getting in bed with him and having the wildest, most intense night of my life, I didn’t know if I should ask to see him again or do the good old walk of shame.

  And it was when I walked into my interview the next day and came face-to-face with my prospective employer that the reality of my situation sank in.

  Because there, sitting across from me with that devilish smile on his face, that knowing expression of what we’d done the night before, was the one and only Jason, my supposed one-night stand.

  Looked like my humiliation wasn’t over just yet.

  Chapter One

  Linda

  “You’re fired. Get the hell out of my office.”

  The sound of Graham Morgan yelling at me—firing me—had my blood running cold but my face heating. I could feel everyone staring at me, humiliation slamming into me.

  I will not cry. I will not cry.

  I blinked rapidly to try and stave off the tears. Bursting into a mess in front of everyone would only serve to make this even more mortifying.

  I opened my mouth to say something, yet I had no idea what that was. But Ben Shilling, marketing manager at Morgan Financial Holdings, had a firm jaw as he shook his head, warning me not to say anything.

  So I didn’t.

  I left stunned, embarrassed, and broken over what happened.

  All over that I’d brought up the fact that one of his clients kept insisting on seeing him despite Mr. Morgan wanting to reschedule.

  I’d been fired for something that had been out of my control. But then again, Graham Morgan reacted first instead of trying to realize the things he did were erratic and drop of a hat.

  As I walked by the cubicles and headed to my desk, I could feel everyone staring at me. I had absolutely no doubt they’d heard Mr. Morgan scream at me. And although it wasn’t like they didn’t know the type of man he was, there was nothing worse than being a spectacle for everyone’s viewing pleasure.

  And no doubt everyone said a silent prayer of thanks that it wasn’t them who’d just gotten canned.

  I stopped by my desk and looked down, the thing pretty barren aside from actual work stuff. I’d only been working here for a couple short weeks, and from what I heard from everyone else, being here that long—or short, depending on how you looked at it—had to be some kind of world record for a secretarial position for Graham Morgan.

  Someone walked by and whistled under their breath, muttering, “Another one bites the dust.” I glanced over at him, thinking his name was Hank or Harold, or something that started with an H.

  He gave me this pained, forced smile but kept moving.

  I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly, being humiliated all over again, like a turntable that just wouldn’t stop.

  Another one bites the dust.

  I guess it was inevitable.

  I grabbed my purse and jacket, even my cup of coffee that I’d gotten just this morning. It was cold by now, but a shot of caffeine might really go a long way in helping my mood.

  I made the long, tedious trek past all the cubicles again, walked by the meeting room with the four windows on one side of the wall, feeling everyone staring at me, knowing what they were thinking.

  Maybe they felt bad for me.

  Maybe they thought I deserved it.

  Either way, it didn’t matter. I just needed to get it out of my head and move forward. But it sucked. Not just because I liked the job, but because I was actually earning a decent amount, and living in the city, it was hard enough to find a good paying position.

  Once I was outside of the building, I felt those tears start to rise up again, but I refused to let them fall. Oh, I wanted to break down right then and there, but why should I let a man like Graham Morgan control me like that?

  I walked to the curb and lifted my arm, hailing a cab. Once in the back with the door shut, I leaned against the weird-smelling leather seat with the numerous tears in it and breathed out. The cab driver was this young guy with piercings all over his ears and face and tattoos that snaked up his neck. He looked over his shoulder at me with an expectant expression.

  “West 42nd and Bowery, please.” I heard the dejection in my voice but gave him a smile regardless, my half-attempt for trying to act like things were fine.

  I had no idea what I was going to do for work. It had taken me a lot of frustrated time just to find that secretary position.

  I reached in my purse for my cell, digging around inside until I felt it brush against my fingers. My purse was a damn Buick, but no way I was going to leave the house without having a spare stick of deodorant, some lotion, gum, tampons, pads, and anything e
lse I might need if I ever got stranded anywhere. I brought up Michael’s contact, hit New Message, and started typing.

  Me: Yeah, so the shittiest of shit things happened to me today.

  Michael was my best friend since childhood, and I swore my mother thought we would get married one day, but when he came out gay, that put a stop to all incessant questions about us dating. Although I knew he was gay early on, until he was the one to come out, I just kept my mouth shut and smiled when anybody asked if we were together.

  I watched as those three gray little dots popped up.

  Michael: Why are you texting me right now? Are you on break or something?

  I internally groaned.

  Me: Well… I actually got fired today.

  I saw the dots pop up again and shoved my phone in my purse. I’d talk to Michael later. Right now, I just wanted to wallow in my depressive state, and then after I was done feeling sorry for myself, I’d figure out what the hell I was going to do.

  * * *

  “He is one massive asshole,” Michael said from the kitchen, and I heard a couple cupboards being shut then the sound of glasses clinking together.

  He came out to the living room a second later, holding up the wine bottle and the two glasses and wearing a goofy grin on his face. “Let’s get drunk and forget about today.”

  I was sitting on the couch with my legs propped up on the coffee table, having stripped out of my work attire as soon as I got home. I was now in a pair of yoga pants and a ratty old T-shirt from my high school colorguard days.

  “Try not to feel so down,” Michael said and sat down beside me, opening the wine bottle and pouring us both a glass. He handed me one and leaned back, his arm pressed against mine, his legs now propped up on the coffee table as well. “You’ll find something.”

  I looked over and gave him a skeptical look. “You know how hard it is to find work in the city. It took me forever just to find that job. And I can probably kiss a recommendation goodbye.”

  “What a prick,” Michael said again. He reached out and patted my leg. “It sucks, girl. I’m really sorry.”

  “Well, that’s life, I guess.” I looked over at him and smiled before bringing the wine glass to my mouth and taking a long drink from it. I swallowed and hummed in approval. “Thank God, you brought over the good stuff.”

  He wagged his eyebrows at me and grinned, lifting up his glass so I could clink mine against his. And then we sat there, finishing our alcohol, talking about life in general, and not delving into how shitty things could get at the drop of a hat.

  Michael told me about the new guy he started seeing, how he had a brother, and maybe we could all get together. I was shaking my head before he finished.

  “I’m not even about to go on a blind date.” I shook my head again as if that was the worst idea imaginable. “That would be like adding the cherry to the shit sundae of my day.”

  Michael nudged me in the arm and made a sound of protest. “I mean, David is super hot. So it bodes well that his brother is attractive as well.”

  I snorted. “Uh, yeah. No. Do you not know how genetics work? Your guy is probably the hot one, while the brother, the one you’re trying to set me up with, is probably at the other end of that spectrum, especially if he’s not taken and you’re trying to hook me up with him.”

  Michael snorted. “David said he’s just busy with work. I think he’s some hotshot.”

  That was a big red flag for me. “Thanks, but no thanks. Last thing I need is another Mr. Morgan in my life.”

  “Well listen, let me talk to David. Let me get some deets on him. What’s the worst that could happen? A free dinner and a couple hours of conversation?”

  I was still shaking my head.

  “Hey, you might even get laid.”

  I narrowed my eyes and glanced over at him.

  “What’s the worst that could happen?” I repeated what he’d just said. “I can think of about a million and one different shitty things that could happen.” I exhaled and rested my head back on the couch. “But I’m too tired to argue, so I’m just going with the flow.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  I tipped my glass to Michael before finishing off my wine. At this point, I was just going to pray the shit didn’t continue to hit the fan.

  Chapter Two

  Linda

  Several days later

  I set the red pen down and rubbed my eyes, tired because I hadn’t been able to sleep last night then had gotten up at the ass crack of dawn to job hunt. I placed my hands on the table and looked around at the small coffee shop I was currently holed up in, the newspaper open in front of me, the classified section staring back at me.

  I had a few red circles around some prospective jobs, but I was feeling so down in the dumps that I didn’t have much hope of finding anything decent.

  Picking up the pen again, I pulled the cap off and focused on the paper, scrolling through each ad. There were a few that required no experience, but I’m sure they were shit positions.

  The majority required some kind of degree with a lot of experience—the kind I didn’t exactly have.

  And the associates degree I did have wouldn’t hold a candle to the other hundred candidates applying for the jobs. When I said I’d been lucky to land the job for Morgan, I hadn’t been kidding.

  I was about to give up for the day when an ad caught my attention.

  Administrative Assistant

  Advertising Firm

  Maxim and Baxter is looking for a highly-motivated and alert person to perform numerous general official, computer-related (data entry), and receptionist duties.

  Essential Functions

  • Manage, organize, and maintain time calendar, scheduling, and reminding appointments

  • Arrange for any materials required (presentations, documentation, print hand-outs, memos, agendas) for all meetings efficiently

  • Take notes in meetings, conferences, and day-to-day activities

  • Perform other administrative duties

  Requirements

  • Education: High school degree

  • Experience: No prior experience necessary

  • Basic project management ability

  • Ability to organize tasks, research, and keep records

  • Highly dependable and trustworthy: maintain confidentiality having access to extremely sensitive documents

  Qualified candidates should apply by e-mailing their resume with a cover letter to: [email protected]

  I lifted my eyebrows as I read the “no prior experience necessary” part. That would definitely work in my favor.

  I ran the pen around the ad, marking it with a giant red circle. Then I just stared at it. That ad was the best one I’d seen so far.

  I finished off my coffee, folded up the paper, and shoved it in my purse. As soon as I got home, I’d work on sending these resumes in, and then hope like hell something stuck. I grabbed the pen, stood, and slipped the strap of my purse over my shoulder before heading out. The scent of coffee and pastries filled my nose as I left.

  I pushed the door open and immediately the sights, sounds, and smells of city life surrounded me. Car horns blared, people shouted, and the smell of car exhaust and street vendor food filled the air. You could practically feel the sun beating down on the asphalt, cooking you from your feet up.

  It was all what I’d gotten used to, what I called home for several years now.

  I was about to hail a cab, even though I really should have been walking to conserve my funds, but fuck it. It was hot and I was tired. But before I could even lift my arm, I heard my phone ringing from inside my purse.

  After fishing it out, I saw Michael’s face on the screen. “Hello,” I said into the receiver as I started to head down the sidewalk. Forget the cab. It wasn’t like the exercise wouldn’t do me good.

  “Hey, so we’re all set. I hope you don’t have anything planned for Saturday.” Michael jumped right into whatever reaso
n he’d called, leaving me confused.

  “You’re gonna have to refresh my memory on what you set up.” I tried to stay out of everyone’s way, but I was getting bumped and pushed, everyone acting like they were in the biggest hurry to get to their destination.

  “Seriously?” he prompted with an exasperated sigh.

  “You acting like me forgetting is a sin to the world tells me that whatever you set up is probably not the least bit important.”

  I heard him snort through the receiver and stopped as I waited for the crosswalk to light up.

  “Linda, I got the blind date set up for you, remember, with David’s brother?”

  Then it all came back to me. “You were serious about that?”

  “Uh, damn right I was serious.”

  “I thought that was just two friends shooting the shit over glasses of wine.” I should’ve known Michael wouldn’t have let it go.

  “Linda, you know me better than that.” There was a moment of silence after he spoke. “So, you free Saturday or do I have to break the poor man’s heart?”

  A car right across the street blared its horn, causing my ears to ring. “Break his heart?” I rolled my eyes. “Do I have a choice?”

  Michael laughed softly. “You know you don’t. Besides, it’s at your favorite burger joint, and I’m sure he’ll be paying, so what’s the worst that could happen? Anyway, David’s a good guy, and I assume his brother is as well.”