Bad Teacher – Bad Boss – Bad Royal – Unprofessional Bad Boys Read online Clarissa Wild

Categories Genre: BDSM, College, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 179189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 896(@200wpm)___ 717(@250wpm)___ 597(@300wpm)
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Suddenly, the door opens, and when I look up, I see a face that makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry.

“Thomas!”

Chapter 22

Thomas

“What the fuck …” I mutter, witnessing the scene in front of me.

I grab Hailey’s hand and help her up, holding her close to me as I watch the man on the floor crawl backward.

“I didn’t do nothing, man,” he says.

“Fuck you!” Hailey spits at him. “Fuck you for trying to put your hands on me.”

Rage.

Rabid fury storms through my mind, blocking out all sensible thoughts.

“He … touched you?” I murmur.

“Nuh-uh,” the guy says, shaking his head.

“I wasn’t talking to you!” I growl, and I grab Hailey’s face with both hands. “What did he do? Did he hurt you?”

“No, he just tried to kiss me, but I didn’t let him,” she says, and I look her deep in the eye to make sure she isn’t lying. “But I hurt him.”

I look at the guy and his bleeding nose as he grabs his crotch with a painful look on his face.

“You …”

Like a small boy, he covers his face with his hands and cries. “Please, don’t!”

I try to step toward him to show him what it means to feel afraid, but Hailey grabs my hand, stopping me. “Don’t,” she says with a soft voice, almost as if she regrets saying it already.

“Why?” I glance at her over my shoulder. “Give me one good reason not to smack him straight to hell.”

“I just … I just wanna go home. Can we just go home, please?”

Grinding my teeth, I gaze at her and then at that bastard who dared to touch my girl. “You … Apologize to her. Now!”

I make a gesture with my palm, which is enough to make him beg. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“You won’t ever touch another girl without her agreeing, you hear me?” I growl.

“He’s been drinking. Actually, we were both drinking …” Hailey muses.

“No excuse for fucked-up behavior,” I growl. “Fucking disgrace.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to give her a kiss after offering her a drink, that’s all. I was going to let her go. It got out of hand.”

“Sure you fucking were,” I spit, challenging him by making a fist.

However, Hailey tugging at my coat makes me turn around. “Please? I just wanna go.”

I would love nothing more than to beat up that piece of shit who tried to touch my girl, but she keeps insisting, and I can’t tell her no. Not when something like this has happened.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay.”

She rubs her lips together as I place my hand on her shoulder and help her out of the bathroom slowly. One final glance at the man and I know he’ll never try that shit again. Just that one look should make him shit his pants.

When it comes to being mad, no one beats me—not with dirty looks and certainly not with fists.

All those months of training in the gym were for this. So I can do justice to those who deserve it.

Hailey shivers in my arms as we walk outside the bar, so I take off my coat and wrap it around her shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, but her voice catches in her throat. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Maybe we should call the cops and report it.”

“No.” She frowns, looking down at the ground. “I don’t wanna spend one more second on this. I just wanna forget.” She looks up at me with teary eyes that break me in half. “Can I just forget?”

I pull her close and wrap my arms around her, and she lets her head rest against my chest, breathing out a few hiccup-like breaths.

“Let’s go home,” I murmur, planting a kiss on top of her hair.

“Thank you for coming,” she whispers. “I needed you.”

“I know you did,” I say, smiling at her, but my smile quickly dissipates. “But I came too late.”

“No, it’s my fault …” She shakes her head. “I should’ve never come here. God, I feel so sick.” She rubs her stomach as we walk to my car.

“You sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I won’t barf all over your car, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she says, laughing it off a bit as she sits down in the passenger seat.

“I’m not. I’m worried about you,” I say.

She looks at me with a surprised gaze, and I give her a tiny smile before closing the door and going to the driver’s side. I hop in and start the engine, trying to let the sound drown out the roar in my heart that tells me to go back into the bar and beat the living shit out of that asshole. But her calm eyes bore into me, and she grasps my hand and holds it tight, keeping me in place. Keeping me in the here and now. It’s like she always manages to pull me back from the dark.


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