Deliciously Damaged (Reckless Bastards MC 3)

Sam came and jumped into my lap as I was about to click out of the tracking software.

I stroked his head with my free hand as I sipped on my mug of steaming hot coffee. If my rent was paid for a year, the amount of money I needed each month just to survive was reduced greatly. I wondered if my old boss at the coffee shop would have a part time spot available. I hadn’t left on bad terms and I knew how to make great coffee. Between that and the tip money, it might be enough to scrape by, and a whole lot better than shaking my bare ass to a roomful of classless horny men.

“We’re going to be okay, Sam. I’ll go back to the cafe and get some hours, get Cherry Bomb fixed, and we’ll be fine.”

Sam didn’t care much, but sometimes it helped to talk to him and sort things out. He snuggled into my lap and I felt more relaxed than I had in days, knowing there was a light at the end of the tunnel I had been hurtling through.

“I did it, Sam! I start next week!” I announced as soon as I stepped back into the apartment later that afternoon. He came scampering at the sound of his name, probably thinking he was about to get fed a treat. I squatted do

wn next to him and scratched his ears.

I had gone down to the cafe I used to work at—before meeting Bryce, before the Spotlight disaster, before Cooper—and the owner had given me my old job. It was only twenty-two hours a week, but it would be enough, for now.

I glanced up at the clock in the kitchen and knew it was time to get dressed. It would feel even better to tell Cooper off, in person, dressed to kill, and tell him I got a new job—without his help—and that he could leave me alone. For good.

My mind made up, I went to my room and started to scour my closet for something to wear. Something…fuckable. Figuring out what to wear to go on a date with a billionaire is probably not a problem a lot of people have to deal with, but regardless, it was turning into a real problem as I thrashed around in my closet, rejecting everything I pulled out, and tossing it onto the bed. I only stopped my rampage long enough to rescue Sam, who had gotten lost under the mountain of clothes that was rapidly piling up, and started yowling for help in his escape. I pulled him out and carried him around the room with me. My hair was up in hot rollers to help transform my natural wave into something a little fancier for the occasion.

Staring at the pile of clothes, I was starting to have flashbacks to getting ready for the Plush launch party a few weeks back. I had been faced with the same dilemma but luckily, Hannah had been able to help me out. I had texted her, but still hadn’t heard back. I figured she was with Jett. The two of them had seemed to really hit it off and I hadn’t heard much from her since they met. I briefly considered wearing the dress I had worn to the launch party, but decided against it since Cooper had already seen it and I didn’t want him to think I only owned one formal dress.

Although, it was kind of true. I had two other cocktail dresses but they were from when I had been bartending at the strip club. They were really, really short and would not be appropriate for a nice restaurant. So, as much as Cooper would appreciate my slinky dresses, I didn’t think looking like a hooker was the best plan.

I decided I was too close to the situation and left the room to go do my make-up. I had one cat eye perfected when the idea hit me. I dug through the pile and found my skintight red dress. I wiggled into it and laughed at my reflection in the mirror when I turned around to see that it was so short, my ass was two centimeters away from being on display. I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually worn this dress out in public, but I cringed knowing that at one point in time, it had been worn outside of my house. I went back through the pile and found my black skirt and pulled it on. It was several inches longer than the hem of the red dress and even though it was layered, it looked almost like it could be one whole dress.

“Huzzah!” I shouted, taking a final twirl in the mirror. My sleeve of tattoos was showing, but I planned to wear a shrug and even if I took it off, I knew Cooper didn’t mind. He flashed through my mind and I felt myself starting to get aroused at the memory of the last time he had taken off my jacket and ran his fingers over my inked-up skin.

“Easy girl, you have to get through dinner first without having to change your panties,” I reminded myself, going back to the bathroom to finish my make-up. I smiled to myself in the mirror, thinking of the undergarments I had carefully chosen to wear. That had been the easy part—a sheer, lacy bra with matching panties and garter belt, since I remembered that had driven Cooper absolutely crazy. I shivered at the memory of watching his head between my legs, still in black thigh high stockings, spread for him as I balanced on the edge of his desk, rocking back and forth with each lick of pleasure.

Fuck…at this rate, I was going to have to change panties before even leaving the house!

I was still resolved to keeping Cooper to a look, don’t touch, policy, but looking sexy as hell was going to make it even more fun for me as I got to watch him lose his mind when I turn him down.

I took a deep breath and resumed my make-up application, mentally zapping at the new thoughts of Cooper that tried to take over my mind.

My make-up was done, my hair was released from the hot rollers and fell in soft waves around my shoulders, and I was killing it in my new dress creation. I turned and admired myself in the mirror. My Spanx were doing their job, and then some, to keep everything high and tight. My waist was cinched in and accentuated my hourglass figure. The sky-high stiletto heels made my legs look longer and leaner. I couldn’t help but laugh, imagining the look on Cooper’s face when he saw me come down the stairs.

I wanted him to suffer.

“To blue balls,” I toasted myself, hoisting up my pre-date glass of wine to my reflection.

I barely had time to take a sip off the top when the doorbell rang.

“It’s showtime!”

Chapter Thirteen

“Hello, Cooper,” I said, my voice low as I open the door.

His eyes raked down my body and I could see that he was stunned—and horny—just looking at me.

“Is this…what were your words…nice, enough?” I asked him.

“You look beyond gorgeous,” he replied. His eyes were dark and I found myself being pulled into them, momentarily hypnotized by the desire and lust hidden there.

I sternly reminded myself of my plan and snapped out of my fantasies.

“Shall we go?” he asked. He offered me his arm, like a true gentleman, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. He had to know how pissed I was at him, how much I did not want to be here. This “date” was more like a hostage situation. He wouldn’t let me say no.

I placed my hand on his arm and let him lead me down the stairs. I was actually a little grateful, since the steps were steep and my heels were so pencil thin. It took all my mental energy to keep from pitching forward and falling on my ass.