I truly love bad boys. In high school I met a boy through some friends who I thought embodied the essence of a bad boy. I went to a private girl’s school with no access to boys. When I met BJ, I was shy and a complete innocent.
BJ was a senior, two years older than me. He rode a Harley, had light brown hair down to his shoulders; wore a leather jacket, butt hugging jeans and motorcycle boots. In my naïveté, BJ was sex on a Harley.
My definition of bad boys today is vastly different than when I was in high school. Bad boys embody all the characteristics of those whom I have met and learned from over the years as well what characteristics my imagination contrives and desires in a bad boy.
I love bad boys who are charming, arrogant, sensual, exuberant, captivating, intelligent, mysterious, and considerate lovers. They must be confident, have great pecs and abs, possess smoldering eyes, and while their sexual prowess may be legendary they know how to make you believe you are the best and the only one for them.
Dress my bad boy in a leather jacket, silk scarf, black silk long sleeve t-shirt that hugs every sinew, butt hugging jeans and a simple pair of Frye boots and I melt. He has to be tall, well-built, have a devilish air about him, possess a captivating smile with one dimple (two is even better), and must be disarmingly charming.
Bad boys want to have fun but not suffer any consequences. They have contacts at every level of an organization, know how to leverage their power of persuasion and rarely endure any penalties for their actions. They can commandeer any piece of machinery or mode of transportation with ease and expertise. Their arrogance is unparalleled until they meet the woman; the woman who will turn their world upside down. This must be a woman of substance, charm, wit, individuality and significant accomplishments. That would be a woman like me.
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Charly walked into Shuckers at precisely seven o’clock in an emerald green silk dress, her sister found on the sale rack in Nordstrom’s Individualist and gold stiletto heels from her own closet. Charly had almost choked at the original price of the silk dress but she knew that at one hundred dollars it was a bargain and more in line with what she could afford.
Charly saw her parents and Lisa and made her way over to their table. She sat down feeling a bit glamorous and sexy – not that she wanted to feel sexy in front of her parents. Ew!
Seated between her parents Charly looked for the waiter. A glass of wine was just what she needed to add a little natural glow to her cheeks.
“For heaven’s sake, what are you looking for?” her mother asked, as she sat primly in the high-back armchair.
“The waiter, I’d like a glass of wine.” Charly replied.
“Charly honey–we are in one of the finest restaurants in Seattle, please show some decorum and manners, for me.”
“Sorry. But you each have a drink,” she replied somewhat defensively.
Josie sat forward, “Yes dear, but we got here at seven – you did not. So, you’ll have to wait for your drink until the waiter comes by.”
“Hey, it was seven by my clock when I parked the car.”
“Then your clock is off – my dear. You really should have all your time pieces synchronized.” Her mother said with a smile and a wink.
Her dad didn’t say anything. He just listened and grunted periodically, which left everyone wondering whose side he was on. Then he started sniffing the air around him. “Do any of you smell that?”
Charlotte lives in Arizona with her hunky husband Warren, and her spoiled Silky Terrier, Tess. Her life has been filled with serious endeavors, including earning a Master's degree, owning her own business, consulting and working in the corporate world as a human resources executive. Before penning her first novel, Charlotte had written several practical guides for business applications, not exactly steamy stuff. Luckily, she never lost sight of her dream to write a novel that would encompass her passion for gorgeous men, adventure and a love of life. Enjoy
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