Win a Filthy Bad Boy: A Bad Boy Romance Read Online Free
Author: Lacy Carter
she'd explain that her friend played a prank on her, apologize, and carry on her life as normal.
“Everything alright, doll?” Ken asked, extending a hand to help her up.
“Thanks Ken, you saved me from death by humiliation.”
“Ha!” he laughed. “So, do I get a reward? What say I take you some place nice this weekend?” Ken asked.
Beneath his bathrobe, Bonnie caught a glimpse of his sculptured abs. He always looked as if he were cut out from an Exercise Magazine, tanned all over with a gorgeous smile full of perfect teeth. He regarded her with pale blue eyes.
“Are you ever even around on weekends?” Bonnie asked. If a person were listening in on their conversation, they might have assumed this referred to Ken’s wild party lifestyle, but the truth was far more mundane. Ken was a resident in a surgery program.
Ken displayed his dimples to-die-for when he smiled cockily. “I’ll definitely make time for you,” he said, tilting his head to the side and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Many female tenants, a couple of male ones too, talked about how drop-dead gorgeous Ken was. He was burn-your-retinas good looking and apparently hot in bed. Add in the ocean blue eyes, dimples and swagger, and as long as you could look beyond his promiscuous ways, he was the total package.
And despite all these qualities, Bonnie was not attracted to him; not in a way that posed a threat, anyway. He never had the raw, sexual, seduction that would leave her feeling cheap in the morning.
Bonnie thanked the gods that most men didn’t have that overwhelming affect on her. It wasn’t like any guy could leave her panting feverishly before screaming in ecstasy. Well, only one so far—Chad.
No sooner had Bonnie tossed the image of Chad to the back of her thoughts had it latched itself onto the ledge of her subconscious and climbed its way to the forefront of her mind.
She checked the clock on her phone. Shit . Leaping up, her bag over her shoulder, she hurled herself towards the door and waved to Ken.
“Anyway, what's the rush?” Ken called after her.
“I've got to get to work, and my ass is grass if I'm late,” Bonnie shouted as she ran out.
At seven, Bonnie hopped a train, stuck in her earphones so she could listen to Robin Thicke, and reviewed the work day ahead. In the lull of routine, she would get to talk with her boss, Al Gibson, after her sit down with the editors at the morning meeting.
At just twenty-three, Bonnie Jensen had to be one of the youngest and hardest working journalists in New York and the most prominent columnist and blogger for The Daily Journal .
After numerous articles, countless interviews, and her work on feature pages, Al had to give her the go ahead to cover the Stephanie Stein story. But recently, she took it upon herself to arrange an interview with the ex-star, turned recluse. The source who acted as intermediary between Bonnie and Stephanie was positive that Stephanie would do the interview. Bonnie was convinced that if she sprung the information on Al, he'd have no choice but to allow her to take the job.
Pursuing serious journalism was the one thing that kept her on the East Coast. If not for her career, Bonnie would have moved back to the Midwest; more specifically Bloomington, Illinois, where she grew up.
She could manage the rush, and the cold expressions of New Yorkers, but even the required tough skin that she soon experienced from having pitch after pitch ignored, never prepared her for how cutthroat the journalism industry could be.
Her thoughts went to Al Gibson, who was the tough editor-in chief of The Daily Journal . Initially, he seemed like the office Grinch that Bonnie had the misfortunate of interning under during her last days at Columbia.
On the surface, Al Gibson appeared resembled J.Jonah Jameson from Spider-man. He was stubborn to the point of denseness, a pompous skinflint who
“Everything alright, doll?” Ken asked, extending a hand to help her up.
“Thanks Ken, you saved me from death by humiliation.”
“Ha!” he laughed. “So, do I get a reward? What say I take you some place nice this weekend?” Ken asked.
Beneath his bathrobe, Bonnie caught a glimpse of his sculptured abs. He always looked as if he were cut out from an Exercise Magazine, tanned all over with a gorgeous smile full of perfect teeth. He regarded her with pale blue eyes.
“Are you ever even around on weekends?” Bonnie asked. If a person were listening in on their conversation, they might have assumed this referred to Ken’s wild party lifestyle, but the truth was far more mundane. Ken was a resident in a surgery program.
Ken displayed his dimples to-die-for when he smiled cockily. “I’ll definitely make time for you,” he said, tilting his head to the side and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Many female tenants, a couple of male ones too, talked about how drop-dead gorgeous Ken was. He was burn-your-retinas good looking and apparently hot in bed. Add in the ocean blue eyes, dimples and swagger, and as long as you could look beyond his promiscuous ways, he was the total package.
And despite all these qualities, Bonnie was not attracted to him; not in a way that posed a threat, anyway. He never had the raw, sexual, seduction that would leave her feeling cheap in the morning.
Bonnie thanked the gods that most men didn’t have that overwhelming affect on her. It wasn’t like any guy could leave her panting feverishly before screaming in ecstasy. Well, only one so far—Chad.
No sooner had Bonnie tossed the image of Chad to the back of her thoughts had it latched itself onto the ledge of her subconscious and climbed its way to the forefront of her mind.
She checked the clock on her phone. Shit . Leaping up, her bag over her shoulder, she hurled herself towards the door and waved to Ken.
“Anyway, what's the rush?” Ken called after her.
“I've got to get to work, and my ass is grass if I'm late,” Bonnie shouted as she ran out.
At seven, Bonnie hopped a train, stuck in her earphones so she could listen to Robin Thicke, and reviewed the work day ahead. In the lull of routine, she would get to talk with her boss, Al Gibson, after her sit down with the editors at the morning meeting.
At just twenty-three, Bonnie Jensen had to be one of the youngest and hardest working journalists in New York and the most prominent columnist and blogger for The Daily Journal .
After numerous articles, countless interviews, and her work on feature pages, Al had to give her the go ahead to cover the Stephanie Stein story. But recently, she took it upon herself to arrange an interview with the ex-star, turned recluse. The source who acted as intermediary between Bonnie and Stephanie was positive that Stephanie would do the interview. Bonnie was convinced that if she sprung the information on Al, he'd have no choice but to allow her to take the job.
Pursuing serious journalism was the one thing that kept her on the East Coast. If not for her career, Bonnie would have moved back to the Midwest; more specifically Bloomington, Illinois, where she grew up.
She could manage the rush, and the cold expressions of New Yorkers, but even the required tough skin that she soon experienced from having pitch after pitch ignored, never prepared her for how cutthroat the journalism industry could be.
Her thoughts went to Al Gibson, who was the tough editor-in chief of The Daily Journal . Initially, he seemed like the office Grinch that Bonnie had the misfortunate of interning under during her last days at Columbia.
On the surface, Al Gibson appeared resembled J.Jonah Jameson from Spider-man. He was stubborn to the point of denseness, a pompous skinflint who
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