Badd Kitty Page 9

  For now, at least.

  Yet she gazed up at me with something like reproach, if not quite outright hatred, as if she loathed me but couldn’t help wanting how I touched her, couldn’t help loving how I touched her. She didn’t want to be enjoying this, but she was. She didn’t want to want more of what I could give her, but she did.

  And I was asshole enough to not care that she didn’t want to want it, selfish enough to crave her pleasure, to take her desire and responsiveness for myself.

  “Roman—” She flexed her hips again, and I pressed my fingertip against her clit.

  I just laughed. “More, huh?”

  “Yes…god, yes.”

  “Thing is, Kitty, I’m just a big dumb brute, you know? I’m easily confused. I’m not sure what exactly it is you need more of.”

  Her eyes snapped and blazed. “I’ve never once acted as if you’re stupid just because you’re built like Atlas. You’re very obviously not stupid.” She bit her lip as I continued to build the pressure against her clit, erupting in a ragged, helpless moan. “You’re just—ohhh—just the most arrogant, pushy, demanding, domineering, swaggering alpha male I’ve ever met in my life.”

  I rasped my stubbled cheek against the inside of her left breast, nuzzled the weight of it, and then flicked her nipple with my tongue. Pulling my touch away from her center, I slid my palms over the tops of her thighs down to her knees, and then whispered them back up the insides, caressing the unbelievably soft flesh.

  She writhed her hips again, gasping as my touch neared her core once more. “Roman, please.”

  “Please what, Kitty?”

  “I won’t say it.”

  “Then you won’t get it.”

  She let out a wildcat snarl of frustration, eyes blazing. She batted my hand away, her knees came together with an audible clap, and she kicked me backward.

  “Get off me.”

  I immediately rolled away, and stood up. “What’s wrong?”

  She tugged her bra and dress neckline up into place, breathing raggedly, and then twisted to sit up so the dress covered her core. “You. This. Everything.” She stood up and paced away from me, scraping her fingers through her hair in agitation. “You need to leave.”

  “Kitty, I was just—”

  “Manipulating me—seducing me! I thought you were…I don’t know. I guess I thought by showing up with pizza and wine and flowers, and sitting and talking with me that you were starting to think about me as more than just a body—more than just a sex object. I see I was wrong.”

  “Now just hold on a second,” I started, taking a step toward her.

  She held up her hand, silencing me, stopping me in place. “No, Roman. I want more from a man than to just be treated like all you want from me is my body. I let you in and spent time with you against my better judgment because I hoped you were showing me you were capable of more than that, but like I said, I was clearly wrong.”

  “Kitty—”

  She let out a breath. “Please, just leave.”

  I blinked for a moment, still struggling to figure out how to salvage this. The conclusion I came to was that it was an unsalvageable situation. In which case…

  I leaned against the open doorframe, picking at my fingernails with exaggerated casualness. “So this is probably not the best time to tell you I’ve named our new bar after you?”

  She stared at me. “You what?”

  “Yeah.” I faked a cocky grin, because I may as well try to sell my own bullshit. “I thought Badd Kitty had a nice ring to it.”

  “You didn’t!” She shook her head, at a loss for words. “You can’t!”

  “Can, and have.” I shrugged laconically. “Sign’s made, already on its way.”

  “That’s—you—you arrogant asshole!” Kitty snapped. “Why would you do that? Why would you name your bar after me?”

  “How do you know I named it after you?” I winked at her—I was probably laying the asshole behavior on a little thick, but I was committed now, and I never back down. “Maybe I just like kittens.”

  “Bullcrap.”

  My laugh was one of aroused enjoyment. “It turns me on when you fake swear, you know that? So innocent. Makes me want to see how dirty I can make you talk.” He rose and stalked over to where I stood in the middle of the living room, towering over me, one finger trailing up my thigh and against my core over the dress. “Maybe it’s just a reference to a pussy—any pussy, not just yours. Maybe I just love pussy.”

  “You and I both know it’s not any of that.” She glared up at me, shoving me away. “Change it. You’re not naming your bar after me.”

  I just laughed. “Not likely, babe. It’s the perfect name.”

  “Why would you even do that?”

  I only shrugged again. “Lots of reasons. It’s a great name for a bar, if nothing else. Suggestive, sexy, fun, memorable—hell of a lot more original than Badd’s Bar and Grill, that’s for damn sure. And for another thing—” Here, I smirked at her. “I knew it’d piss you off, and you’re so fuckin’ sexy when you’re mad. Hell of a turn-on.”

  Kitty turned away, visibly seething. “You’re not just arrogant, Roman Badd—you’re…you’re an asshole. The hubris—it’s just flabbergasting! Why would you think I’d be okay with you naming your stupid bar after me? Especially after trying to get me to quit while I was still working for your own cousins? We barely know each other! I have to live in this town! How many other Kitty’s you think there are around here? The attention the Badd’s get is—you can’t even understand it! And I’m part of that! Everyone will hear about your stupid bar, take one look at that name, think of me, and put two and two together. They’ll assume the worst.”

  I was baffled. “Assume what? And who cares?”

  “That I—that I had something to do with it! That I would want a bar named after me! That I did something to get you to name it that—I don’t know.” She hissed, frustration and anger making her nearly incoherent. “I just know that you’re a conceited pig and I never want to see you again.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Wow, ohhh-kay. Arrogant jerk I can live with, but conceited pig? It’s just a bar, Kitty, and it’s just a name.” I tapped her on the nose, a gesture that I knew would only serve to infuriate her even more—but again, I figured I might as well play it out. “This is about a hell of a lot more than you’re letting on, Kitty. Don’t think I don’t see that. For some reason, my very existence provokes you. I piss you off, and I don’t even have to do anything other than exist—just like you turn me on without doing anything other than existing. And you wanna know something else? Part of the reason I decided on the name was because I knew it’d piss you off, and like I’ve said—you’re sexy as hell when you’re pissed.” I backed away through the open door. “I may be all those things you called me, but there’s one thing I’ve got going for me that you don’t: at least I’m honest with myself and others about who I am and what I want.”

  5

  Kitty

  * * *

  I stared at him in stunned silence for a full thirty seconds before anger blasted my response out of me.

  I shook my head. “Let me repeat myself: ‘arrogant jerk’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. Arrogant, manipulative, cocky—” I stabbed him in the chest with my finger at each word, “—selfish, conceited, pig-headed, chauvinistic asshole!”

  I whirled, paced away, and then stopped, pivoting to address him again. “You showed up here with flowers and wine, acting all sweet. Listening to me, talking to me—acting like—like maybe there was a gentleman in there after all. Like maybe you actually cared about me, beyond just wanting me, wanting my body. I gave you a chance, Roman. I wanted to believe you were being nice. And then you get me all mixed up, you—you turn me on—and yeah, I can’t deny that I wanted what happened. I’m to blame for thinking you could ever be anything except a conceited, selfish jerk! Getting me turned on, making me—trying to make me beg, getting me to—gah! You make me so mad I can’t ev
en think straight.” I walked over to the door, hands shaking, and opened it. “Please leave. And don’t come back unless you can figure out how to give a crap about anyone besides yourself, Roman.”

  He stared at me for a long, long moment, and then walked out the door without a backward glance or even so much as a word, closing the door behind him a little too carefully.

  The moment I heard the door to the apartment building slam closed, I sank, shaking all over onto the couch. How long did I sit there, unable to formulate thoughts, unable to let myself even think about what just happened?

  Too long.

  The door opened and Juneau and Izzy came through together, each carrying leftover containers from different places—remnants of their dinners at work, Izzy at the clothing store and Juneau at the offices of a law firm specializing in Native Alaskan affairs. They each took one look at me, set their containers on the kitchen counter, dropped their purses and kicked off their heels, and sat on each side of me.

  “Kit-Kat, what happened?” Izzy asked.

  I shook my head. “Everything.”

  “Let me guess—Roman.” Juneau patted me on the back. “What did he do?”

  “He—we—” I started, but was still crying and had to stop.

  Juneau got up and brought me a box of tissues, and Izzy just frowned, eying me and the couch.

  “Did you—” She looked me over carefully—I was sitting cross-legged on the couch, habits of modesty forgotten. “Kitty! You’re not wearing any panties!” Her eyes bugged out. “YOU SLEPT WITH HIM!” she shrieked.

  “Izzy, calm down,” Juneau admonished.

  “Calm down? How can I calm down? She slept with him, and now she’s crying. Either it was that good or that bad. Which one was it, Kitty?”

  “Okay, for one, I didn’t sleep with him.” I sucked in a breath, steadying myself. “Well, not exactly.”

  Izzy pointed at me. “Your panties are missing. You had sex.”

  “Izzy,” Juneau snapped. “She doesn’t need an interrogation right now.”

  I frowned, glancing at the floor around the foot of the couch. “Where are they?”

  “What, your panties?” Izzy bent forward to look, and then flipped upside down to lift the flap of the couch so she could peer underneath, using her phone as a flashlight. “Not here.”

  I blinked, trying to remember. “We were on the couch when he took them off me. It’s hard to remember—I thought he just tossed them aside.” Renewed anger sizzled through me. “If he took them—?”

  Izzy clapped a hand over her mouth. “Kitty! You saucy little minx! You had sex on the couch! In broad daylight! With a man you met once!” She hug-tackled me. “I’m so proud of you!”

  I shoved her away playfully. “Don’t be. It was…I shouldn’t have.” I sighed. “And we didn’t have sex.”

  “Then explain,” Izzy demanded.

  “It does somewhat leave one with the impression that you guys had sex,” Juneau added.

  I tried to figure out where to start. “We—I hadn’t seen him in like, almost three weeks. Not a word. Like he’d just given up, you know?” I sighed. “He showed up a few hours ago with flowers, two bottles of wine, and pizza.”

  “Well, that’ll open my legs lickety-split,” Izzy said, laughing. “So, you can’t be held responsible.”

  “A light breeze opens your legs, Izzy,” Juneau said, making all three of us laugh, since the zinger was a rarity for her, as she was almost unfailingly kind.

  “Just so it’s clear from the outset,” I continued, “we did drink both bottles of wine, but it was over, like, three hours of talking and eating, so—so I can’t blame what happened on that. I was maybe a little buzzed, but that’s it. You both know I can hold my wine.”

  “Got it,” Izzy said. “Not drunk. Continue.”

  I close my eyes. “I—he—we—I don’t know how it happened, honestly. He was being sweet, listening to me, telling all these funny stories. And—he was actually listening.”

  Juneau nodded seriously. “There’s very little that’s sexier than a man who can listen well.”

  “Truth,” Izzy said.

  “It was lots of little things. I mean, aside from the fact that he is, objectively, just gorgeous. He’d touch my leg, I’d touch his, and—the way he was looking at me, the way my whole body just tingled every time he touched me? I just—I wanted him.”

  “Not sure what there is to cry about so far,” Izzy said. “That’s called attraction, Kitty, and it’s absolutely normal.”

  “Let me finish, first.” I drew a breath, gathering my thoughts. “He just—he knew how to work me up. One little thing led to another, until I was just…all mixed up. So turned on I didn’t know whether I was coming or going or what.”

  “Coming, I hope?” Izzy quipped.

  “If you were going, I can see why you’d be crying,” Juneau said, snickering.

  I glared at them both. “Stop! This is serious.”

  “Sorry,” they both said.

  “Continue,” Izzy said, rolling her hand. “One thing led to another…”

  “And I was…I don’t know. Out of control, I guess. Had me basically begging.” I admitted this quietly, my voice dropping. “And yes, at some point, I let him take off my underwear, and I thought he put them on the floor but now I don’t know. And he had my dress half off, and—he wasn’t even shirtless.”

  Izzy was staring at me incredulously. “He got you to beg?” She whistled. “He must be good. You’re, like, the queen of composure.”

  “Except where he’s concerned, apparently,” I said, bitterly. “Because I had none. Zero composure. Totally just—enthralled. Hypnotized. I don’t know. He got me to say things, and I—the whole thing…I just can’t even believe it was me.” I met their eyes in turn. I groaned, words failing me. “And he kept saying this stuff—it was all just…so wicked. So filthy. I’ve never heard anyone actually say things like he was saying to me. I couldn’t believe it.”

  Izzy fanned herself. “Hoooooo girl—you’re making me horny.”

  Juneau eyed me, laughter on her features. “So, you know I’m on your side, but I’m still not seeing what there is to be upset about. Sounds like a hot hookup.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t understand what he’s like. He’s infuriatingly arrogant. He’s gorgeous and sexy and ripped and if he does sex as well as he did whatever you want to call what just happened, then he’s also probably amazing in bed. In incredible shape, smart, quick with a comeback—and the worst part is, he knows all this. He knows exactly the effect he has on me. He laughs at me. Teases me. He pisses me off like no one I’ve ever met in my life, and he thinks that’s hot. He makes me angry on purpose because he thinks I’m sexy when I’m pissed.”

  Izzy’s eyes were wide. “I’ve never heard you talk about anyone like this, Kitty.”

  “And that’s a bad thing.” I shook my head again, sighing. “You don’t get it. He turns fatheaded arrogance and conceited swagger into an art form. He’s probably had more lovers than he can count.”

  “So?” Izzy countered. “None of that makes him a bad person, nor does any of that mean you shouldn’t take this opportunity for all the crazy amazing orgasms he can give you.”

  I blushed, ducking my head. “I called him a conceited pig. I sort of yelled at him and kicked him out.”

  Juneau’s eyes widened. “Wow. You never yell. Or call names, for that matter.”

  “He just brings out the worst in me,” I moan.

  Izzy patted me on the shoulder. “He really does. I mean, Kitty, honey—you had that man, here, alone. He gave you an orgasm, and you didn’t even give him a handy in return? Did you kiss him? Did you offer to return the favor?”

  “I stopped him before he could get me all the way there,” I said.

  Izzy stared at me blankly. “You…you what?”

  “Well…he made me mad. He was just being so…so manipulative. So arrogant. Like he knew he could get me to do whatever he wanted,
and I only let him in because I thought by showing up like he did that he could be more than just a guy interested in sex, but then he turns into that anyway, and on top of it all he was trying to make me beg for every little thing he wanted to do. So no, he didn’t give me an orgasm, and no, I didn’t touch him. He never even took his shirt off.” I groaned. “And he took my underwear, apparently.”

  Izzy just gaped at me. “You kicked him out before he could finish making you come? Are you crazy? How is that even possible? Why the hell would you do something like that? At least let him finish making you come first!”

  “Are you missing the part where he’s an arrogant jerk?” I demanded. I hesitated. “And did I mentioned he named their new bar after me?”

  Neither knew what to say to that, immediately.

  As usual, Izzy was the first to muster a response. “He what?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What’d he name it?” Izzy asked.

  “Badd Kitty.”

  Izzy’s face went through several expressions. “Um. That’s actually really good. I’d go to a bar named Badd Kitty.”

  I stomped a foot. “Good name or not, he didn’t ask me, and he refuses to change it. He already bought the sign, apparently.”

  “It’s kind of flattering, actually.” Izzy made an I’m sorry face and shrugged. “I can see why you’re pissed about it, though.”

  “It’s just another example of his arrogance.” I tried to slow my breathing. “He just…he does whatever he wants, takes whatever he wants without any regard for anyone. It’s beyond galling.”

  “And a little hot,” Izzy said.

  I stared at her. “There’s seriously something wrong with you.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. But I’ll take an arrogant guy over one with no balls and no confidence any day.” She waved a hand dismissively. “And anyway, who cares? You don’t have to marry the man, just fuck him.” Izzy sighed and took my hands in hers. “You probably don’t want to hear this, but I think you aren’t being honest with him or yourself about your feelings for him, or what you want, or, basically, anything.”