WRECKER: A Bad Boy Cowboy Romance (A steamy billionaire romance story) (16 page)
Read WRECKER: A Bad Boy Cowboy Romance (A steamy billionaire romance story) Online
Authors: Natasha Tanner,Jess Bentley
T
ogether
. Finally. Every cell in my body is electric – electrified by Kanen and his passion. The Wrecker. I hope he doesn't wreck me. Like Lacey said, he can wreck my pussy but not my heart. Keep him away from that.
I've never been with a man like this… neither the furtive kisses in high school, or the kisses with my husband were anything compared to the way he's kissing me now, our tongues intermingling, twining together, as his hands squeeze me closer to him. He’s cupping my ass cheek, the other hand in my hair.
I can feel it. He's claiming me — he's taking me. He wants me, and I want him more than I wanted anyone in my life. His hands trace the hem of my shirt and pull it up over my head. The silky fabric slides over my skin followed by his sensitive, large, callused hands. He's making me tingle all over. I squirm in his arms, barely able to control myself when his hand slips underneath the waistband of my jeans and when it makes contact with the lacy thong I wore, he moans and pulls on the thin fabric. His other hand cups my breast learning his thumb over my nipple. He’s kissing me. His lips are soft, but his kisses are strong. I'm just trying to hold tight onto him, feasting my hands on his beautiful body, that I’ve wanted to touch so many times. Every ripple of his musculature, the softness of his taut skin, the growing heat between us. It's all making me wild. And I grind up against him, seeking the pressure of his hard length against me. His hand sneaks under the lacy edges of my bra and he pushes it aside to take reveal my hard nipple and take it in his mouth. Every swipe of his tongue sends electricity down to my core, making me wetter and wetter. I wonder if he knows how ready I am for him right now. But he's taking his time. He knows he's in complete control and doesn't need to rush. He's taking every second to enjoy each thrill that he's sending through me, each jolt of electricity. My knees are getting weak to the point I can barely stand. He pushes me against the wall, and as he kisses my breasts, he begins to undo my jeans. I wiggle out of them and they fall into a puddle on the floor.
I can't take it anymore — I need to see him naked. I pull off his shirt, and he stretches his arms over his head, showing his six pack and broad shoulders. And giving me a perfect view of his tattoos. My tongue swirls over his chest, his skin hot and salty in my mouth. I start to kneel down but he pulls me up.
"No," he says. "We can do that later. I'm going to give you pleasure first." Dragging me over to the bed, he lays me down unhurriedly, and kisses down the length of my body to the edge of my song.“"little bit, kissing the skin he reveals I rounded sides. I'm almost squealing, he's got me so excited. His tongue is hot and wet soft, insistent. And when it plunges into me, it's beyond any pleasure I felt. He works his tongue over my soft folds, lapping at my clit, before picking his head up and smiling a crooked grin.
“You taste great," he says. "Amazing… And he pulls my thong down fully and opens my legs before burying his face between them. My hips are bucking wildly as he sucks expertly, and when he cocks one finger and pushes it inside me, I can feel a hot core of energy building and building until he pushes me over the edge in complete abandon. I'm screaming his name, writhing, bucking. I come again and again, but it only makes my hunger for him to enter me that much stronger. I pull his arm up finally to get his attention and he lays beside me, his hair falling in his face.
You’re so sexy," he says. “The way you smell… the way you taste.” He’s kissing my neck as he says this. I squirm closer to him and grab his ass cheek, demanding more of him. I’ve never acted this way in my life but I’ve never had anything so good.
“We're not done yet," I say.
“No we’re aren’t done yet," he agrees, grinning. "I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before.” With these words, just words, I can feel myself getting so wet. I'm almost ready to beg him. What the fuck, I might as well.
“Take me, Kanen, please?" I say softly, pleadingly. "Don't make me wait…” And he doesn’t. He rolls on top of me with a grin. His nine inches of cock press against me, the head seeking my soft pink petals. "You sure you can take this?" He says.
"Damn right I can," I say. "And if not I’ll die trying." He laughs, puts my leg over his shoulder and in one graceful motion slides into me. It's the most exquisite feeling, his body next to mine, his cock, so huge, stroking me slowly from the inside. His eyes, dark and intense, boring into mine. Our breath heavy, trembling, in sync with each other.
He keeps his head down and kisses me. This time it's soft and gentle, or at least it starts that way. But before long, we’re devouring each other.
N
atasha Tanner
is a hopeless romantic
. She loves to write about bad boys and her stories always wind up with a happy ending and some steamy moments.
She resides in Vermont and hopes you enjoy every one of her books as she strives to become a full-time writer.
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Author Central Account
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J
ess Bentley
is
an emerging author who is excited to be writing about bad boys and billionaires, and the women who they fall for.
Wrecker is her first full length novel, but she’s writing fast and hoping to have a huge backlist one day.
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Hit and run? I wish. Meeting Cain Maggiano is more like a full-on, full-body collision.
And I don't know if my heart will survive.
Elizabeth
When you grow up as a mafia princess, you quickly learn that your future isn't your own.
Family comes first. Always.
Still, I'm furious when my father orders me to marry the son of our longtime rivals.
I don't care if Cain is the most gorgeous man I've ever met.
So what if he's all towering strength, covered in tattoos, and has piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through me?
It doesn't mean anything that I melt in his arms. I'll never trust him. He has too many secrets.
Then tragedy strikes on our wedding day and I'm forced to trust him.
My life--and our baby's life--depend on it.
Our love is an accident waiting to happen. But the thrill of riding her is worth the danger.
Cain
She's a tiny Italian diva with big curves and an even bigger attitude.
I'm not happy about this whole arranged-marriage thing...until I meet my gorgeous bride.
It's too bad I'm damaged goods--more so than she can ever imagine.
I've got secrets, and if she discovers them her life will be in danger.
Then again: our lives are already in danger.
She's scared of the bad guys.
She doesn't know yet I'm the baddest thing out there.
Hit and Run is a standalone, full-length novel with cursing, no cheating, no other women with the male man character, and a guaranteed HEA.
Excerpt for Hit and Run:
I stand outside Tony’s brownstone, my best suit on, shivering my ass off.
I hate New York in the wintertime.
In my hand is a hastily-purchased bouquet of flowers. I stopped by a bodega on the way. It finally hit me when I walked into the store: I’m marrying a woman I know so little about, I don’t even know what kind of flowers she likes.
I knock on the door.
It opens a few minutes later and Elizabeth is standing there in sweatpants and a sweater. She says nothing as she walks away, leaving the door open.
“Good evening to you, too,” I say sarcastically, walking inside the warm house. I brush my dress shoes on the mat. “Should I take my shoes off?”
“Do whatever the hell you want,” Elizabeth calls back to me.
I leave them on. Never know when you might need to make a quick escape. “Nice place,” I say.
“Do you want coffee or what?”
“Uh, yeah. Coffee. No cream or sugar.” I walk down the hallway, peeking into the living room. I recognize the guy who had to restrain Elizabeth sitting in the front living room. He looks absurd perched on a floral fabric settee with a newspaper open in his hands.
I walk into the kitchen. It looks like a chef’s dream setup. Eight-burner gas stove, double oven, copper range hood, a dozen perfectly shining copper-bottomed pots hanging from a ceiling rack, dark marble countertops and mahogany cabinets – this place is incredible.
But it’s not as incredible as the woman I’m staring at wearing a ratty sweater and skin tight yoga pants.
“Nice of you to get dressed up on my account,” I say bemusedly.
Elizabeth rolls her eyes. “Sugar, I
am
dressed up. And I look fabulous.” She points to her body, her mussed hair in a messy topknot on her head. “It’s all for
you,
honeypie.” She turns around and fills up a coffee mug from the expensive coffee maker.
“Like I’m going to complain about you wearing yoga pants,” I say.
She whips around like lightning. “Stop staring at my ass.”
“I could stop staring at it if you’d let me touch it instead.” I grin at her.
She rolls her eyes, shoving the mug of coffee towards me so violently a third of it splashes out of the mug and lands on the countertop.
I pick it up gingerly, not wanting dripping coffee all over my fingertips.
“You drink coffee like a little girl playing tea party with her stuffed animals,” Elizabeth says. “Not so tough when you’re outside the ring, are you?”
“Nice of you to notice,” I spar back at her.
Elizabeth walks over to the oven and sets a timer for thirty minutes. “My father wants you and I to get to know each other before our wedding in three weeks.” The word
wedding
sounds like poison in her mouth. “You have exactly half an hour before I either kick you out or Ed drags you out of this house by your ears.”
“What, am I keeping you from a
Murder She Wrote
marathon on Netflix?”
She glares at me. “Fuck you.”
I shrug casually. “I’m just saying, looks like daddy has you all locked up in your tower here. Must be a pretty boring existence to never be able to leave the house without a bodyguard.”
“Fuck. You,” she retorts. “If you’re planning on using my hair to climb up and rescue me, I’ve got news for you: it’s not nearly long enough.”
“Sweetheart, when I take the chance to pull on your hair, you’ll be screaming but it won’t be for rescue.” My eyes flash at her and her cheeks even turn a little pink.
“You mean when you
get
the chance to pull on my hair.”
“I mean when I
take
the chance that
you’re
going to give me. You’ll be asking for it. Then it’ll be my decision, and you’ll fucking love it. You’ll be begging for me to finish you off so loudly half of New York will here you screaming.” I lean closer to her.
She’s really blushing now. She finally glances over at the clock. “You’ve wasted three minutes of your allotted time.”
“Nah, it wasn’t wasted. You said you wanted to get to know me. And I just told you a lot about myself, I think. A lot about my
abilities
,” I add with a significant look.
Elizabeth turns around without a word and grabs a rag, wiping off the spilled coffee from the countertop.
“I’m boring. Let’s talk about you,” I say, sipping my drink. Damn, this coffee is delicious.
“No,” she replies shortly. “Absolutely not.”
“Come on. At least tell me what your favorite flower is.” I point at the bouquet on the countertop. “I had to grab a mixed bouquet.” It looks pathetic and wilted in the confines of this expensive kitchen. “I was hoping I’d get lucky that your favorite was somewhere in there.”
Elizabeth gazes at the flowers. “No. It’s not in there.”
“Then what is it?”
She raises her eyebrows challengingly. “I suggest you just keep trying to figure it out.”
I laugh. “You sure are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”
“Don’t fetishize my righteous anger,” she spits back at me.
“What if I like sparring with you? There’s no harm in that, is there? It’s like foreplay. I think you like this.”
“I like
what
?”
I point at the air between us. “All this built up, unresolved sexual tension. I’m guessing your dad doesn’t allow conjugal visits.”
She throws the rag at me. “That’s it, I’m cutting your time short.”
“You’re not even going to put the flowers I bought you in a vase?”
“They can wither up and die and you’re welcome to join them as far as I’m concerned.”
I laugh. “You’re quick. I like that.”
“Get out,” Elizabeth says, pointing at the door.
“See you later.
Wifey
.”
She roars like a lion and I’m out the door.
I knew she was a firecracker before, but now I really can’t wait to bend her over and fuck her on our wedding night.
I step out into the streets of New York, my conscience pinging at the back of my skull. I brush it away.
This is all part of the job. Mr. Romano hired me to work for him, sight unseen. I was the first step in reconciling my family with his. And then he set up this ridiculous game.
Why shouldn’t I enjoy the perks of that?
I push my guilt aside and step into the crowds of people pushing through to get their holiday shopping finished.
Elizabeth will come around.
No woman can resist this. No woman can resist
me.
I’ve never liked the motorcycle club, but one of its members might just be the man that saves me.
L
auren
…
I didn’t care that he’s was the sexiest man I’d ever seen.
I didn’t care that I’d wanted him since I was old enough to know what desire was.
I was a good girl, and I’d be damned if I fell for him.
He was big and rough and hard and I didn't want any of that ... until he was all I could think about.
That was before the El Diablo Rojas kidnapped me.
Now all I can hope is that Jacob finds me before they make good on their threats.
J
acob
…She said I was a bad boy but she had no idea.
The Mischief Makers had yet to accept me as one of their own, even though I was f*cking born into them.
The day I finally find out the verdict, she ends up kidnapped by one of the clubs rivals.
Now, I don't give a damn about anything but finding her.
Come hell or high water, I'm bringing her back.
E
xcerpt of Crotch Rocket
G
ood
,” he said with a grin. “But first, we need to go
s
omewhere.” He lowered my arms and began to pull me towards the back room where we stored their alcohol supply. He pushed open the heavy rubber flaps that served as the door and pushed me up against a pallet of beer. “You know what I think?” he said his breath heavy on my neck as he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “I think you need to get laid.”
M
y chest heaved
as I took in his words. The feel of his body had my skin prickling as the area between my thighs grew wetter.
“
D
o you feel that
?” he asked as he thrust my hand down between his hips.
“
Y
es
,” I answered quietly as my fingers traced his hardness. He groaned lightly and then turned me to face the pallet as he ground his hips against my backside.
“
I
’m so
hard for you,” he commented as his hand snaked around my body to grip my breast.
I
knew
I should stop him. I knew I should cry out and that I should push him away but it felt so good. Instead I stayed completely motionless as his other hand snaked around my body and up the inside of my shirt. I could feel the bare skin of his fingertips on my breast as he pulled one cup of my bra down and replaced it with his hand. My nipple instantly hardened beneath his touch and I couldn’t help myself as my body fell back against him. His tongue flicked my ear and teased down my neck. My mind reeled in a jumble of wanton desire as it sought to take in what was happening.
C
atching
a grasp on reality I whispered, “Wait.” It was so quiet that I wondered if he had even heard it as his other hand reached up to pull down the remaining bra cup. His two hands clasped both of my tits as he hungrily sucked my neck. “I can’t,” I continued attempting to be more forceful. Yet he didn’t stop – and I didn’t want him to. He removed a single hand and undid the button of his jeans. I could hear the Zzzt sound of his zipper as it slid down. Seconds later both of his hands were gripping the hem of my skirt, and with little resistance the fabric slid upwards in folds around my hips. “I hate you,” I gasped as he ground his hardness against my backside. His fingers worked their way inside of the fabric of my panties and pulled them to the side.
I
heard
him laugh lightly as he listened to my words. He knew I didn’t mean them. At the same moment they were leaving my lips I was pressing myself back against him practically begging for him to thrust himself into me. In fact, that was exactly what I was begging him for. I could have said “no” a million times but my body was saying “yes, yes, yes”, and in that moment so was my mind. The first and only time the two had agreed on anything having to do with Jacob. Right then, mind and body both wanted to be filled with him and only him - his smell, his voice, his body, his cock. All other thought drifted away and I found myself moaning as he pushed me forward over the beer stack.
I
gasped
as his cock pressed between my legs and slid between my moist lips. I was so turned out that I couldn’t have stopped if I’d wanted to. He kicked me legs wider as his hand gripped my shoulder to hold me steady. With a single hard push, he thrust himself inside of me. All of my teenage dreams were finally coming true. He roughly pressed his hand to the back of my neck and held me down as he thrust into me hard and fast. This wasn’t love making, but something about it was different…it wasn’t just fucking either. As he thrust into me over and over, I could feel something deeper growing between us, something I couldn’t put a name to.
I
closed
my eyes and listened to his passionate grunting. I loved the sound of him as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. Suddenly he released my neck and pulled my back up against his chest. He pulled my head to the side and bit at my neck as he continued to move inside of me. I couldn’t stop myself as I began to moan. The feel of him was too much to bear.
“
I
’m going
…I’m going to finish,” I gasped.
“
M
e too
,” he replied as his mouth teased my collar bone. “Let me feel you cum,” he whispered gruffly as he slammed himself in again.
H
is words
and the feeling of him inside of me were too much and I felt myself spilling over the edge and into oblivious. My entire body shook and pulsed as my orgasm roared through my body. I could feel myself clutching around him and with two more thrusts he was filling me. I could feel the heat of him as he gave me stream after stream. Then as quickly as it had started, it was over and he was pulling himself out of me and zipping up his jeans.