LAD: A British Bad Boy Romance Novel (Bad Boys of London Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Emilia Holland
options,” I helped, having a good ear for picking out important words to make it seem like I’d listened.
“Of course, so Miss Geoffries loved your portfolio…”
I scooted my chair around our table slightly so I could regain the view of the girl I’d been admiring. Being over there alone made her uncomfortable. I studied her further. Her attire was pretty and fit in well here. The white, off-the-shoulder dress she wore was respectable but strangely attractive in its simplicity. Her hair, long, wavy and strawberry blonde blew with the breeze as someone opened one of the French doors beside her. She bit her lip and pushed a loose strand behind her ear. A virgin, for sure. My cock pulsed. Good God. Why did I have an irresistible urge to stand up, walk over and talk to this girl? Not flirt, not fuck, but just…talk to her.
“Felix, dear, it’s time to quit staring at the pretty girls and listen to what I’m saying. All of this is quite important. Your Uncle is tremendously concerned.” Aunt Margaret took my hand and looked into my eyes to await a response or some sense of acknowledgment.
“I’m listening to every word, Maggie, it’s only that…excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” With that, I abruptly alighted from the table and made my way in the direction of the girl in the white dress.
On my way, I gave the blonde waitress an assured tap on the arse and cheekily remove the small silver dish filled with the fancy berry preserves from her tray. “Thank you, doll,” I said. “I owe ya.” She giggled, blushing bright crimson as I walked away.
The two other girls had returned from the Ladies’ Room, giving me two back-ups should the others not be too keen. Making my way over to them, the attractive one in white’s beauty struck me, her reddish-blonde hair now in a tight braid over her shoulder. How I’d love to grab hold of that braid and give it a pull.
“Pardon my intrusion, ladies,” I began, standing over their table. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were given the preserves in the ceramic ramekin. Unfortunately, that would be the canned jam that they give out to tourists. I believe it’s the fresh jam in the silver dish that you think you’re paying for.” With that I placed the dish onto the table and made eye contact with each, being sure to gaze at the strawberry blonde last, and with keen intention.
“Um, thank you?” The dark haired one raised her eyebrow and gave me a pursed-lipped smile.
My gaze lingered there on the third a moment longer. Her eyes were sea-green and I became transfixed by them, giving credence to the moment and allowing myself the time to study the freckles in them. I felt a strong impulse to grab her arm and direct her to my room instantly, but of course, that would be unbecoming. English boy’s were expected to have some semblance of decorum.
“Well,” I started. I could feel my jaw clench ever so slightly as I took in the sight of her collar bone and neck. I wanted to take them between my teeth and nibble at that delicate skin. “You ladies have a lovely afternoon.” All three seemed to be gobsmacked, but I simply turned away and went about my business. Seeing young ladies trapped in awe had, unfortunately, become trite to me at this point. This feeling nagged inside of me. I snarled to myself, hating that this American girl had got into my head. I rarely put much effort into scoring someone, but this girl was fit and gorgeous and part of me believed she deserved every ounce of my energy.
I went to the loo for a number of different reasons; the main reason being something that couldn’t be uttered to my sweet Auntie. After relieving myself, I needed to pay my respects to Herbert, the bathroom attendant who might as well have been dressed in coat and tails for the outdated formality of his post. Herb was an old friend of mine. Someone I could confide in. Though, due to his lack of spoken English skills, I don’t know
“Of course, so Miss Geoffries loved your portfolio…”
I scooted my chair around our table slightly so I could regain the view of the girl I’d been admiring. Being over there alone made her uncomfortable. I studied her further. Her attire was pretty and fit in well here. The white, off-the-shoulder dress she wore was respectable but strangely attractive in its simplicity. Her hair, long, wavy and strawberry blonde blew with the breeze as someone opened one of the French doors beside her. She bit her lip and pushed a loose strand behind her ear. A virgin, for sure. My cock pulsed. Good God. Why did I have an irresistible urge to stand up, walk over and talk to this girl? Not flirt, not fuck, but just…talk to her.
“Felix, dear, it’s time to quit staring at the pretty girls and listen to what I’m saying. All of this is quite important. Your Uncle is tremendously concerned.” Aunt Margaret took my hand and looked into my eyes to await a response or some sense of acknowledgment.
“I’m listening to every word, Maggie, it’s only that…excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” With that, I abruptly alighted from the table and made my way in the direction of the girl in the white dress.
On my way, I gave the blonde waitress an assured tap on the arse and cheekily remove the small silver dish filled with the fancy berry preserves from her tray. “Thank you, doll,” I said. “I owe ya.” She giggled, blushing bright crimson as I walked away.
The two other girls had returned from the Ladies’ Room, giving me two back-ups should the others not be too keen. Making my way over to them, the attractive one in white’s beauty struck me, her reddish-blonde hair now in a tight braid over her shoulder. How I’d love to grab hold of that braid and give it a pull.
“Pardon my intrusion, ladies,” I began, standing over their table. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were given the preserves in the ceramic ramekin. Unfortunately, that would be the canned jam that they give out to tourists. I believe it’s the fresh jam in the silver dish that you think you’re paying for.” With that I placed the dish onto the table and made eye contact with each, being sure to gaze at the strawberry blonde last, and with keen intention.
“Um, thank you?” The dark haired one raised her eyebrow and gave me a pursed-lipped smile.
My gaze lingered there on the third a moment longer. Her eyes were sea-green and I became transfixed by them, giving credence to the moment and allowing myself the time to study the freckles in them. I felt a strong impulse to grab her arm and direct her to my room instantly, but of course, that would be unbecoming. English boy’s were expected to have some semblance of decorum.
“Well,” I started. I could feel my jaw clench ever so slightly as I took in the sight of her collar bone and neck. I wanted to take them between my teeth and nibble at that delicate skin. “You ladies have a lovely afternoon.” All three seemed to be gobsmacked, but I simply turned away and went about my business. Seeing young ladies trapped in awe had, unfortunately, become trite to me at this point. This feeling nagged inside of me. I snarled to myself, hating that this American girl had got into my head. I rarely put much effort into scoring someone, but this girl was fit and gorgeous and part of me believed she deserved every ounce of my energy.
I went to the loo for a number of different reasons; the main reason being something that couldn’t be uttered to my sweet Auntie. After relieving myself, I needed to pay my respects to Herbert, the bathroom attendant who might as well have been dressed in coat and tails for the outdated formality of his post. Herb was an old friend of mine. Someone I could confide in. Though, due to his lack of spoken English skills, I don’t know
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