How To Pleasure A Playboy

By: Talia Hunter



“What are you going to do?”

“Besides the protest? No idea. And in this freezing weather I’m not even sure anyone will turn up.” She flopped onto the couch, pulling her coat tighter around herself. It was so cold her hands were going numb. As soon as she got off the phone, she’d light a fire.

“At least your tweets are getting lots of support.” Ally chuckled. “Lady in red. You looked hot in that dress.”

“It’s good to have public opinion on our side. Not that Bronson cares what anyone thinks.”

“He must do, or he wouldn’t be tweeting back so much.”

Lacey pressed her lips together, remembering the handsome playboy with his teasing smile. “All he cares about are his nightclubs and going to parties. I bet he’s never done a day’s work in his life. He has so much money, it’s nothing but a game.”

She looked over at her father’s bookcase, and as always, her eyes went straight to the empty shelf. It had been rotten luck that her father had gone into hospital just after she’d quit work and started the blog with Ally. Even though the Baxter’s rent was dirt cheap, she’d had to sell some of her father’s precious books to pay it. But thanks to Ally, they’d got through that dark time, and Lacey had sworn she’d get the books back somehow. Especially if she managed to bring her father home for his last few months. If he came back, he’d find out what she’d done.

“Well, if it’s a game to him, why not take advantage?” said Ally. “Challenge him to let the tenants stay. You could turn it into a competition.” She sucked in an audible breath. “I know. What about running the Hunger Games in your apartment building? Whoever can survive the mold, leaks, and everything else you put up with, wins the game.”

Lacey sat bolt upright. “Oh my god, that’s brilliant. Ally, you’re a genius.”

“I hate to break it to you, Lace, but it was a joke.”

“You didn’t see him in his nightclub, waited on hand and foot, his harem letting him do whatever he wanted. He’s so spoiled, he’s lost touch with what’s real.” She couldn’t help but smile. Oh, this was too good. “If we make a bet and he has to stay here, I can make sure it’s utterly miserable. Then I’ll get what I want and teach him a lesson. Show him how the people he’s trying to control actually live.”

“But how would you get him to take the bet?”

“If I taunt him enough, he won’t be able to resist. And our readers will love it.” She jumped to her feet, too excited to stay on the couch. “There’s no way he’d survive this run-down place more than a day or two, and when he loses, he’ll have to drop his plans to pull down the Baxter. Plus, I’ll give live updates on how miserable he is, and our ad revenue will go ballistic. Win-win.”

Ally was silent for a moment. “Maybe I am a genius. But what if you lose?”

“I won’t. Believe me, I can make his life a pure living hell.” She’d never thought having a freezing, moldy apartment could be a good thing, but suddenly Lacey wanted to throw her coat off and embrace the cold. “I’ll play as dirty as I need to. There’s no way I’ll let him win The Baxter Games.”

“First step is getting him to agree. That won’t be easy.”

“Don’t worry, I got this. I’ll call you back, okay?” Lacey hung up, then pulled up Twitter and composed a tweet.

Does @BronsonReyne #PamperedPlayboy have a golden toilet and sleep in silk sheets? Spoiled! He wouldn’t last a week in #TheBaxter.

Once she’d sent the tweet, she put her phone down to build a fire. Surely he’d respond? The flames had crackled into life and the room was warming up when an alert went off.

Want to try my silk sheets? Only if you wear your red dress. #LadyInRed #TheBaxter

Lacey wasn’t sure whether to jump for joy or grind her teeth. At least he’d replied, even if he kept bringing up that damn red dress. Well, two could play his game. If he was trying to annoy her by turning this into an online flirtation, she’d turn it right back at him.

Silk sheets are for #PamperedPlayboys. A bed in #TheBaxter would be more than you could handle.

She sent it with a grim smile. Surely he wouldn’t be able to resist that? Barely a minute later her phone dinged again.

#TheBaxter is history. I want you out.

If you want me out, come get me. #TheBaxter

Is that an invitation? Ask nicely and I’ll think about it.

Seriously, the man had no shame. She typed another tweet.

Think you could spend a night in #TheBaxter? No way. Too pampered.

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