Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection

“I’d like that.”

He passes me his phone and I store my number. We talk for a few more minutes before he tells me he needs to leave for work. Saying goodbye, I make my way over to the lockers and grab my stuff to head to the bathroom. Confident that I have avoided the Jerk this morning, I shower and dress, then leave the gym to head into the office.

It’s Monday, and I decide to drown myself in my work until our editors’ meeting in an hour. I don’t have anything to present today and am happy to listen to what other manuscripts will be put on the table. Dee is up front, and as everyone enters the room, I take a seat at the furthest spot from Haden.

From across the room he is staring at me again, making me feel even more self-conscious. Normally I would think I had spinach in my teeth or a milk mustache with this much attention. What I would give to have a milk mustache right now. He’s probably thinking about how you got down on your knees and sucked him off. Oh dear god, another new memory!

My cheeks flush instantly so I bow my head in order to avoid anyone noticing.

Dee commences her presentation, introducing a new erotic male-on-male romance. The heterosexual men in the room cringe. Clive, our resident fairy, is all over it.

“Totally love it, Dee. There’s a demand for gay romance. Women love it!” Clive claps his hands in utter delight.

“C’mon Clive. How could women love it?” the Jerk asks. “I won’t argue about demand—figures show there need to be more books in this genre—but I don’t get why women want to read about two guys’ dicks-slapping each other.”

There are a few snickers (again from the men) but of course, the Jerk starts a heated debate.

“Haden, get your pretty little head out of the lady garden. Women want to see lust, desire. . . . They want to see acts that are unattainable.”

Clive has a good point, but I don’t want to admit it out loud. Vicky once showed me some random clip of two guys and it was steamy, hot, and very taboo. There was something about it that intrigued me, not that I wanted to tell this to Jason at the time.

“Let the women in the room speak up, Clive,” the Jerk tells him.

There is a silence until I hear my name called. All eyes are on me and the Jerk—who once again has put me on the spot.

If he wants to play dirty, I am dressed in my bikini standing in the pit ready to rumble.

“Clive has a point. There’s something arousing about the image of two men. The sexual desire is, um . . . let’s say, raw and uninhibited. And homosexual men have very appealing bodies.”

He looks amused, leaning back into his chair like an arrogant prick. He is no longer wearing his gym outfit, and I try not to stare at how sexy he looks in his crisp white shirt that is rolled up at the sleeves. Honestly Presley, you need an MRI because your brain has officially lost the plot.

“You don’t think a man and a woman can have the same sexual desires towards each other?” he asks, mocking my point with a slight sneer.

“Probably. Depends if the guy’s a jerk or not,” I shoot back. “It all boils down to the build-up. From what Dee has summarized, the two men are sexually charged after years of denying their sexuality. Women love a good lead up—makes for a heated explosion. Excuse the pun.”

Everyone laughs and I find my confidence in the ultimate stare-off, not backing down. He doesn’t back off either until Dee moves on and the subject changes.

Focusing on a presentation proves difficult when you know someone is staring at you. Occasionally, I turn to look at Clive where he sits next to Haden, and my heart skips a beat when the Jerk’s eyes lock onto mine. If curiosity killed the cat, then Kitty is lying on a stretcher waiting for an ambulance to arrive.

After another hour spent talking about other projects, we filter out of the room. Clive has not stopped talking, having only just returned from a European vacation.

“We haven’t done lunch in ages. You free today, Pres?”

“Sure Clive. Plus we need to catch up on your vacay.”

He flashes me a wink and starts to ramble on about some Contiki tour until the Jerk interrupts us.

“Can I please speak to you?” His tone is demanding enough that even Clive raises his eyebrows.

Great, just fucking great. I knew there was no way to avoid it. I tell Clive I’ll catch up with him at lunch and wait till everyone leaves the room.

“What?” I finally say.

“What? Is this the game we’re playing?” he asks, extremely frustrated, running his hand through his hair again.

Don’t look at his hair. Repeat. Do not look at his hair.

“Ignorance is bliss. What else do you want me to say?”