Locked up with the Badboy.

I take a seat on the floor in front of him, "What?"

He combs a hand through his dark hair and sighs, "This is a maximum security prison, the people here have killed babies, shot up schools , killed multiple partners and run crime rings and you, are saying that I'm mean? "


20. Heat.



We eat dinner at the downstairs restaurant, and Ben seems to enjoy it, he adopts a more eloquent tone and uses his eating utensils like they’re an extension of his body. It’s like he’s slipping back into his old persona.

I on the other hand, struggle. First off I hold my knife and fork in the wrong hands and have to execute a complex plan in order to change them into the right hands. I knock my glass of the table and stupidly pick oysters as my main course. The whole place is extremely fancy, there’s silk tablecloths and proper little evening mints for after meals.

On the other side of the room sits a man in a bright red suit. He dines with three others only he doesn’t pay them very much attention because all of it is focused on us. I try to scre him away by looking straight at him but he just nods slightly and keeps staring.

I love oysters but I can’t swallow them silently and what should be a perfectly romantic evening turns into a red-faced fiasco for me, I end up just sucking the evening mints and wishing I wasn’t still wearing motorcycle leathers. The strange thing is, the more I make a fool of myself the more Ben turns his charm up. When he grabs my arm across the table I know he has something planned.

“Let’s go,” Ben says before I have a chance to tell him about creepy Red-suit or order dessert.  He takes my hand and throwing a stack of notes on our table we leave the restaurant. Almost before the elevator doors close on us Ben is pulling me toward him and his lips press into mine. We stand like that for about a minute before I realise what’s happening and break away, “What Are you doing?” I say, a little annoyed, a lot confused.

“I’m kissing the hottest person in the world.” He says with a frown, “What’s wrong?”

I must be still in shock because It takes me forever to realise that he’s never called me hot before, “You said you weren’t interested in me.” I say, “Why are you kissing me?”

The elevator pings, and he makes a grab for my hand. I dodge and we both walk out of the elevator scowling, except he scowls way hotter then I do. “Clara, I’m crazy about you. Only a miniscule barrier of common sense is keeping me from ripping your leather apart right now.”

We stop at our door, he looks at me through his dark green eyes. I feel for a moment that I can see the fire burning behind them. “So it’s not love?” I ask, finally allowing him to wrap his arms behind my back.

“It’s not love,” he says gently opening the door behind us, “It’s passion.”


He walks me forward until I lay flat on the bed before him. As I run my hands through his hair Ben’s teeth unzip my leather jacket, exposing the creamy white shirt I’m wearing underneath. His lips find mine; once, twice. Urging but desperate.

As he moves to my jaw, then my neck I unzip his jacket and run my hands over his tee-shirt marvelling at the feel of his chiselled chest. As he moves further down and I realise that this is serious, that this might actually happen, and that I’ve been wearing the same clothes for almost two days under hot sun I say, “Ben maybe I should take a shower.”

“Great idea,” he grins. He’s hungry, man he’s hungry.

Ben picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, cradling his body to mine. I don’t see anything but I hear the sound of the shower door closing and then feel steamy water run over my still clothed body. “Ben!” I say, slightly surprised, majorly turned on.

“I couldn’t wait.”

My feet find the floor and his hands find my face, we press our lips together as steam radiates off us. As our kiss ends he pushes my jacket down my arms then rips the shirt I’m wearing in two. “Ben,” I laugh softly, “You know that there are other ways of taking a girls shirt off.”

He kisses me again, “I couldn’t wait.

I take my time, slowly removing his jacket and then tee. Oggling the muscles and hard lines before me. Somehow he removes my jacket and rips the rest of my shirt apart as I run my hands up his sides revelling in the heat and the smoothness of the skin before me. Wrapping my hands around his neck I kiss him, long and slow. Pressing myself against him.

There’s a soft bang in the hallway, that breaks us apart. “It’s nothing,” Ben says. “Besides it’s time to get a proper look at you.” Leaving the shower running he opens the door and lays me down on the cold  bathroom tiles that make me shiver and my breasts perk up. Heat radiates between us.

He steps out of his leather pants, intrigued I run my hand down the front of his boxers, inside is hard and smooth.

He removes my bra and then my pants and all in one. “Wow,” he says standing up and surveying all of me. I expect his passion to die straight away, I’ve never felt so exposed in my whole life. I don’t feel I’m good enough for him. I know I’m not good enough for him.

But surprisingly he pulls me toward him running his rough hands down my body and making be shiver as we press our bodies together against the wall of the bathroom. I trail my hand on the edge of his boxers-

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” A voice comes from behind us.

Ben turns cradling me protectively behind him, as I peek over his shoulder I see the man in the red suit. He’s carrying a gun. “Who the heck are you?” Ben asks fiercely. One of his hands still touching my side. 

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