Sins of a Bad Boy (The Original Bad Boys Book 1) (2 page)

“You’ve learned a lot regarding our new business in the last few weeks, but”—Charles pointed to the book with an erotic image on the cover—“keep studying the material I gave you. I’ve hired thirty females and ten males.” And Charles added in a stern tone, “Now clean yourself and put on your suit because we’ve been invited to Rutherford’s soiree.”

William groaned in displeasure since that meant coming face-to-face with Anne Rutherford – the girl he left behind in the sacristy with her mother. “Do I have to join you?”

“Yes, it’s imperative for you to keep conversing with businessmen; that will aid you in shedding your lower class accent. Every once in a while it creeps back up. And you may drive my automobile.”

That final statement made William’s eyes light up. “Deal.”

CHAPTER 2

“Couldn’t you at least have worn a top hat?” Charles reprimanded William as they drove through the bumpy streets of the Loop.

“No, you’ll never convince me to wear hats, my old friend. I don’t care if all the rich men are wearing them. Be pleased that I at least wore a vest.”

William reviled the shapeless attire that was fashionable at the moment. Instead, he wore vests that emanated his restrained strength. A dark sensuality stamped his features. He always stood out with his clothing and messy strands of hair that fell over his forehead. Tonight, he wore a white dress shirt underneath a light-grey vest, complemented by a black bow tie and black pants. For once, his hair was neatly combed back. As usual, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to expose his tattoos.

“It’s a waistcoat, William, not a vest.” Charles shook his head as a smile pulled at his lips.

William could never understand why Charles put so much thought into his proper speech and wardrobe. Charles, with his brown hair streaked with silver, always looked dashing. Even though he was only fifty years old and in perfect health, he used a cane, just because it was chic. And for another reason as well: the cane hid a razor sharp sabre.

As William drove up to the front entrance of the cream colored two-story, he noticed the simplicity of the building. The Rutherfords had a well-built home, but it didn’t scream of opulence. However, it was enough to impress William, who came from nothing, and sometimes, he still couldn’t believe he lived among the higher middle class and upper class nowadays.

Rutherford was a British architect without a title, who, like Charles, moved to America to start a new business. Rutherford had become a successful architect, one that Charles always solicited advice from when starting a new venture. He helped to construct Charles’s building and aided in the expansion of the underground first floor that would hopefully become Charles and William’s most prosperous club.

After entering the foyer, William and Charles were greeted by their host.

“Charles, William, you’re just in time. Dinner will be served within ten minutes in the front parlor.”

“I’m going to wash up,” William said as a servant took hold of Charles’s hat and cane.

Rutherford answered, “Down the hall to your left, William.” Then he turned to Charles, and they walked off.

William passed a few guests and dipped his chin in greeting before rounding the corner to the washroom. He came to a sudden stop when he heard a soft moan coming from a room to his right. The door was slightly ajar, and he tilted his head to peek inside. His lips tugged up as he witnessed a woman in a lover’s embrace. The man’s large hands roamed over her blue skirt, down to her luscious ass while she whimpered softly. In turn, her hands found their way into his pockets. The man was murmuring to her, and she let out a low laugh. She had stunning curls in a reddish-brown color that flowed down her back as she arched into the passionate hold.

William knew his rectitude of conduct was considered debased and immoral, but all these people lived the same way he did; they just did it in secret. Typical upper class behavior.

He felt a presence creeping up behind him and swiveled around just in time to confront the person. William caught a wrist and backed Anne against the opposite wall, quickly covering her mouth with his hand to prevent her from making a sound. He raised one eyebrow and put a finger to his lips, warning her to be quiet.

His thoughts were consumed by the lady in another man’s arms, who was now whispering something. Her voice held a smoky edge that made William wonder about her face, about who she was.

Anne wriggled, and he hurriedly released her.

“William, we need to talk. How could you?!” She stomped and raised her hand.

But William caught her wrist in the air, softly stating, “Don’t you dare slap me. We don’t need to talk. You and I are done.” And he strode to the front parlor while ignoring her pleas to stay.

Today was the first time that William had ever regretted fucking a woman. Because of this mess with Anne’s mother, being with her hadn’t even helped to take the edge off like his various dalliances with the opposite sex normally did. Thank goodness he’d let Anne know up front that it would only happen once. William had his pick of women. Why fuck one woman twice when he could indulge in a different woman every night?

Entering the parlor, he sought out Charles, who was already seated next to Rutherford and his wife, Tabitha.

The entire meal, William was ignoring Anne and Tabitha and watching for a woman in a blue dress with auburn curls to walk in, but she never came. Just when he decided that she was probably still with the man in that room, said man crossed the threshold, looking decidedly unpleased – without her trailing behind him. A crease formed in William’s forehead because he couldn’t imagine where the woman would be during the dinner. Nonetheless, he tried to focus on the conversation around him.

After dinner, the men retreated to another room to smoke, which was apparently a British tradition, but William wasn’t one to put up with traditions and neither were some of the other American men, so they joined the women in the ballroom where a huge chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling, illuminating the entire dance floor.

William snagged a glass of champagne from a passing footman’s tray and downed it in one gulp in time to deposit the empty glass on another, replacing it with a second drink. A smirk flitted across his face when he spotted the woman in the blue dress in the far corner. It had to be her with those curls flowing magnificently to her lower back, the tips ending right above her ass – an ass he could sink his teeth into. Why he needed to see her face, he didn’t know or particularly care. Moving toward her, he noticed how she kept quiet and just observed the men around her.

And when she turned her head, William stopped dead in his tracks. As she stood under the light of the chandelier, he noticed that her hair had a deep reddish glow, a color he had certainly not seen before. She was quite young, not yet a woman. Her skin seemed so soft to the touch. And her face was one he was most likely never to forget. Her eyes were a vibrant blue and magnificently huge, made even more remarkable because of her thick, reddish-brown curls. Her high cheekbones and deliciously plump, pink lips caught his attention next. The lady had an air of innocence and arrogance that had his cock twitching in his pants. She was perusing the room with a perceptive expression, and her eyes passed William before she stopped and slowly looked back at him.

He kept his stare locked on her face. There was something familiar in her features.

Her eyes widened a touch when he started to move toward her little group.

“Gentlemen.” He shook hands and smiled at her – she didn’t return the favor.

They all greeted him and relayed him with questions about the gaming club. William answered them while stealing glances at the girl, who was starting to look for an escape.

Did she know William had seen her and her lover in the room?

What really bothered him was why no one had introduced her to him.

When a heated political discussion regarding liquor ignited, William took his opportunity to talk to her.

She was standing right across from him now. He noticed that she was neither short nor tall, but somewhere roughly in the middle. And she had a small dusting of freckles on her nose.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, Miss…”

She arched a perfectly plucked brow but kept silent, leaving William at a loss for words – for the first time ever. She definitely knew he’d caught her in a lover’s embrace.

As he leisurely examined her, he realized she was indeed young but made a considerable effort to look older with makeup and a revealing low cut dress, the swell of her small breasts that were on display absolutely enthralling to him. He took a sip of his drink and kept gawking at her over the rim of his glass since he was enjoying how uncomfortable his attention was making her.

“Stop staring at me,” she hissed, low enough for only William to hear.

A corner of his mouth slowly rose. “Why so shy?”

She straightened her back and ran her fingers through her hair, that air of arrogance still surrounding her, and William thought that perhaps she was one of Anne’s juvenile friends.

“Where were you during dinner?” he wanted to know.

Her lips trembled, and she glanced around anxiously.

Rudely, she spun to leave, but William stopped her by the elbow, releasing her instantly before anyone saw their encounter.

Then he slipped behind her, without touching, and leaned in close to her ear. “Off to another rendezvous?”

Her head turned, their lips a breath apart, and she softly answered while gazing at his mouth, “No, not everyone’s like you. At least I have the decency to find the privacy of a room.”

Finally, she admitted that she’d seen him too, probably when he’d had Anne pressed against the wall.

“Who are you?” he blurted, becoming slightly annoyed by her conceit.

She stepped away from him quickly and gave him a brash grin that he felt directly in his cock. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

William was completely perplexed by this young girl, and all he could think to ask was, “How old are you?”

She didn’t utter a word.

He added on a whisper, “I’ll find out whether you tell me or not.”

Without acknowledging his statement, she paced away briskly, leaving the other men oblivious to what had just transpired between the two of them.

And William smiled at her retreating form, promising himself to find out more about this smug woman.

CHAPTER 3

The entire week preceding the opening of the new club consisted of William and Charles attending parties of the elite to discreetly promote their sex club and scouring upper class society and immersing themselves in the latest gossip to help them decide which men and women would be offered a secret membership. Not everyone could be allowed in the sex club; discretion was of the utmost importance. It was a risky move to open this kind of sex club in America, even if it was a common, everyday business in Europe. In America, it was unknown territory, and they didn’t exactly know how society would react. However, they did know the workings of a man’s mind, and men would eventually flock to the club because curiosity would win out, and employing the most beautiful women who would make their every fantasy come true would keep them coming back – Charles and William hoped.

Apart from being overly busy with the new club, William and Charles also agreed that William must rapidly cut back on the number of matches he fought. This was William’s request since he’d started to experience muscle pains in his neck and back from years of fighting – a side effect of being a fighter that Charles had warned him about.

So instead of being at the fight club, William was now with Charles, attending another boring ball. Tonight, they were at the Dunn Mansion, built on a grand scale in French style, it had an extensive outer forecourt and a central balconied hall that rose three full stories. The party was a glittering display of wealth and social prominence. Exactly the kind of place Charles and William needed to be and exactly the kind of place William usually hated.

Charles, who was considered one of the Loop’s upper class entrepreneurs, had received a formal invitation and demanded that William accompany him.

Standing together in the enormous ballroom that was decorated in rich peach colored tapestries, William’s dark brows dipped and his eyes narrowed when he spotted the young woman with auburn curls whose name he still hadn’t discovered. With his busy schedule, he’d all but forgotten the haughty girl that taunted him a week ago.

When he started to ask Charles about her, they were interrupted by Jeremy Dechamps, who always took every opportunity to talk down to William. Jeremy was a fighter that had never made it to the top, even with his daddy’s money backing him. And he was jealous that William had, that William, who came from nothing, was a better and more respected fighter than Jeremy would ever be.

“Kade, what kind of party is this that even
you
were invited,” Jeremy commented.

William completely ignored him, knowing that would aggravate Jeremy the most. Jeremy wasn’t worth his time, especially when he was trying to find out who the girl was.

“Who’s that girl?” William asked Charles, secretly thankful when Jeremy slinked away.

Charles followed William’s gaze to the woman in a yellow dress who had just entered the room. “She seems familiar. I think I’ve seen her before.”

“Yes, she was at the Rutherfords’ party last week too,” William informed him.

“Hmm… Ah, yes, she’s Ivy Ravensdale. I saw her nametag that night, and I remember her because of her remarkable hair color. Her father, Alfred, is a British earl. She’s a lady, William. What’s your interest in her?”

“I have no interest in her, but she refused to give me her name when I met her. She’s fucking arrogant,” William ground out, watching her studying everyone with an odd expression on her face.

Charles let out a bark of a laugh, causing people’s heads to turn toward them. “Look around, William. Most of them are conceited. It’s a trait inherent to the upper class.”

“There’s something unsettling about the way she’s observing everyone.” William’s eyes followed her every move while she was oblivious to his penetrating stare.

Charles tipped back a whiskey shot and set his glass on the table behind them. “Forget her. Go mingle. I’m going to insert myself into some conversations as well. Get a feel for who will be interested in access to our new club and who can help us with purchasing more liquor.” And he took four steps to the left to join the discussion of a group of men, leaving William alone.

William’s gaze returned like a magnet to Ivy.

And when Ivy finally noticed William, her confident demeanor waned for a split second; William detected it. Ivy tilted her chin up a notch until she had to break their stare-off when a man approached her. Then she edged around the ballroom while a waltz was playing. The dancers in the center of the room kept interfering with his line of vision, but he managed to keep an eye on her. She greeted several people as she passed them, which afforded the perfect opportunity for William to creep up to her.

He closed the distance quickly and whispered into her ear from behind, “Why, hello there, Lady Ravensdale.”

She spun around so fast that her auburn curls swayed and settled on one shoulder. Instantly, she masked her stunned reaction and calmly retorted, “What do you want,
Mr. Kade
?” She emphasized his surname, letting him know that she’d inquired about who he was.

William was standing far too close to her, their breath practically mingling as she looked up at him, but she didn’t shy away.

“That’s not a proper way to greet a gentleman,” William pointed out.

He was drawn to her for no apparent reason. All he knew for sure was that she was the only woman with her hair not in a ridiculous updo, and even if he wouldn’t admit it to her, the way her hair flowed down her yellow dress was gorgeous.

Ivy looked up at him through her lashes. “I’m not in the company of a gentleman.” She took one step backward and turned on her heel, and he could no longer feel her body heat.

He matched her step and brushed his chest against her back, placing his hands on her biceps and touching her warm, exposed skin – she had surprisingly strong muscles and lean arms. A bolt of desire went through both of them, and she inhaled sharply as William’s eyes lowered to the swell of her breasts. Ivy attempted to act as if she were completely uninterested in him, which only managed to ignite William’s desire.

“Dance with me,” he invited.

William knew the rules of society damn well, and a lady was never to decline a gentleman. Still, there was a chance she would, because he could tell that Ivy had been in America for a while since her British accent was very faint.

She huffed in annoyance, actually huffed. William had never had a woman refuse him a dance; normally they flocked to him until he had to practically fence them off. He found himself enjoying her reluctance – a lot.

When Ivy stayed quiet, lost in her thoughts, William brought her back to the present by stroking his knuckles over the exposed skin of her throat, and she lurched away. Ivy glared at him sharply, which made him smile, so he stood even closer to her, making her more uncomfortable.

“This is not proper, Mr. Kade.”

He paid no mind to her statement. “Do you dare to defy your rules of etiquette and deny me a dance?”

Ivy was glancing around, but there wasn’t an escape for her. Expelling a breath, she conceded, “Fine,
one
dance.”

William held out his hand with a glorious grin plastered on his face; he was indeed enjoying teasing this woman way too much. She took it, and he entwined his fingers with hers, guiding her into the throng of people dancing in the center of the room. William pulled her close and kept his left hand tangled with hers. Then he stroked his palm down her arm and lifted it to rest on his shoulder.

Her perfume wafted around him, and he was pleased that she was not one to excessively spray it on. It was just a hint of a floral fragrance, a sweet and honeyed smell. Contradictory to her haughty appearance.

She was rigid in his arms but followed his lead, although his hand rested very low on the small of her back, which wasn’t common for a waltz. As they twirled, he spun them into the shadows of a corner, in search of privacy amid the mass of people.

“What are you doing?” she reprimanded him while he was pressed too close to her and keeping her body in a lock.

William angled his head down slightly because he was much taller than she was. “I’m waltzing. Breathe, Ivy. It’s just a dance. I won’t bite.”

“This is definitely not the way to waltz. And I think you
will
bite,” she refuted, trying to create a distance and causing his lips to quirk up. “Furthermore, please don’t use my first name, Mr. Kade.” She was looking anywhere but directly at him.

“I wish
you
would use
my
first name. I’m sure you know it. Call me ‘William’, just once, Ivy,” he murmured.

She rolled her eyes. “Mr. Kade, please just leave me alone after this dance. You bore me to no end.”

“Liar,” he said softly with an icy bite. “I don’t bore you, and my dear Ivy, you do the exact opposite to me.” He drew her even closer to him. “Don’t tempt me.” An amused warning was directed at her.

“How am I tempting you?” she threw back with an absolute bothered countenance.

He gave her a dark, jaded smile and didn’t answer her since he didn’t comprehend himself how she was tempting him. William was having a lot of trouble melting this ice princess, and why he’d actually asked her to dance in the first place evaded him right now. She was exasperating; why did she have an aversion to him? It surprised him that he possessed such an infatuation for this perfect stranger.

As he took in her delicate features, he remembered why he’d asked her to dance. She was oblivious to how she shimmered with an innate sensuality. There was something in her sky-blue eyes that betrayed a hidden desire, or fear. He couldn’t quite make out which one, and usually, William could read people easily because Charles had taught him to notice and how to interpret people’s mannerisms. And he still didn’t know her age but guessed she must be eighteen or nineteen.

Finally, when some of the other guests started to watch their closeness, William allowed her to take a small step back, and he ended their dance in uncomfortable silence. He escorted Ivy away from the crowded dance floor as people kept brushing past him and decided he’d had enough of teasing her.

“My lady.” He bowed slightly and winked, detecting a small twitch in her pretty pink lips.

She inclined her chin, and he turned, feeling her gaze burning into his back as he walked away, toward Charles on the other side of the room.

William was unsure how he felt about their odd encounters, and he couldn’t refrain from looking back one more time. Ivy had a full grin on her face, causing William to frown at this weird woman. He shook his head and joined Charles; however, before he could even open his mouth, there was an uproar among a few of the couples who were dancing nearby.

William and Charles scrutinized the commotion.

The musicians kept playing, but a stream of couples moved to the side, and one man’s voice came booming over the music, “Who took it? No one leaves this ballroom! I knew I felt something a few minutes ago!” Said gentleman was checking all his pockets.

As William watched the man, a strange sensation came over him, and he searched for Ivy, who was now holding a tall glass in her hand, staring at him. There was something in the way she was smirking at him that made him check his own inside jacket pocket, and he was completely surprised to find a lightweight wallet in there – one that was not his.

He muttered under his breath, “Are you kidding me?!”

William glared back at Ivy while gritting his teeth; he couldn’t believe she’d just set him up. 

“William.” Charles regarded him with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“She fucking set me up!” 

The crease in Charles’s forehead deepened as he stepped closer to William so no one overheard their words. “What are you talking about?”

“Ivy,” he snarled and touched his breast pocket, “stole the wallet and planted it in
my
pocket.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I have no idea. Maybe because I was teasing her and she thinks this is funny?” William rubbed his jaw, perusing the room as he went over his options in his mind. “I need to get rid of this wallet right now.”

“How? You need to hurry before everyone starts to pay attention to the victim.” 

More and more people were gathering around the man who was looking for his stolen item – William needed to act quickly.

His eyes landed on Jeremy Dechamps. Hurriedly, William approached Jeremy from behind, sweeping by him and slipping the wallet into his back pocket without anyone noticing.

Then he looked at Charles and nodded toward the door to exit the place, all the while searching for Ivy, who was now conveniently missing in action. She’d fled the scene, leaving William even angrier than he was a couple of minutes before. But apart from anger, there was also another feeling. Perhaps a tiny bit of amusement at her audacity? No, at the moment, rage overruled. 

Who the hell does this rich bitch think she is?
This isn’t over
.

He would retaliate when she least expected it. Ivy Ravensdale had just messed with the wrong person. She had no idea about the darkness and hate that resided in William. This was why William loathed society, especially the wealthy – because they just did what they wanted and toyed with people’s lives, forcing him to participate in their silly games in order to protect himself.