The After Party (A Badboys Boxset)

by Karr, Kim

  When I bit down on his lip to stop myself from screaming, his kisses turned rougher. His lips traveled from my mouth, along my jaw, and down to one of my breasts, and his teeth skimmed along the way as well. The sting felt good as he licked it away.

  Pleasure began to course through me in a way I’d never felt. Sparks of sensations lapped at my core over and over. Perhaps it was what happened when danger, terror, lust, want, and need all mixed together, or maybe it was just him. But when those tiny sparks came faster and faster, I felt my pussy tighten around his fingers. The pleasure was unbelievable, and I came with such intensity that each spasm was like a shudder that rolled into the next but at a higher level, and I had to bite my lip so hard to stop from screaming that I could taste blood.

  As my orgasm slowed, I let go of my hold on his arms and reached for his zipper again. “I want to see you naked,” I said breathlessly.

  I couldn’t believe I said that.

  But I did.

  He dropped his forehead to the crook of my neck. “You don’t know what you’re doing. What this means.”

  I leaned back to look at him. He wouldn’t raise his eyes, but I could see that his face was almost pained. “I don’t care about any of that right now.”

  He shook his head. “Elle, there’s so much you don’t know about me.”

  I took his face in my hands. “And there’s so much you don’t know about me. But right now none of that matters.” I eased my lips back to his and started licking around them. As I dragged my tongue down his jaw, I slid my hands under his shirt, and I swore I felt him shudder.

  Logan stepped back, and I wasn’t sure if he was still torn or had decided to leave. He wouldn’t look at me.

  All I could see was his heart beating wildly. “Logan, it’s okay. It’s just you and me in this small room.”

  It was obvious he was waging a war with his own demons. I’d waged enough of those in my time to know one when I saw one.

  He nodded, and then he pulled his shirt over his head.

  I stared at the smoothness of his skin and couldn’t wait to touch it. I admired the twin dark circles on his chest and wanted to taste them. I counted the rips in his abs—six. I sketched with my eyes the lines of his hip bones that jutted into his pants and reached to trace them.

  Logan slid his pants and boxers down at the same time and let them fall to the ground. My fingers didn’t waver as they continued to glide down the path I had started upon. I stayed on task and dropped to my knees so as not to get off course. What was it I’d thought in the back of my mind when I first saw him? He was a man who could bring a woman to her knees. I wasn’t wrong.

  I licked my lips at his naked form. He had another scar on the inside of his thigh, very close to his private parts, and I wondered what had happened. But it didn’t matter, because he was still beautiful. A very faint, thin line of hair led down to his cock, which was jutting out in the most magnificent way. He was big, really big, and the thought of tasting him made my mouth water.

  With my tongue, I traced the line I had just drawn with my finger. When I reached the inside of his thigh, he pulled me back up.

  His gaze was so intense, it was practically smoldering, and then he buried his hands in my hair and kissed me with those lush lips. As our mouths moved, our bodies drew closer and closer still.

  After a few minutes, he lifted me and as I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist, I felt movement swirl in my stomach. It was a feeling I hadn’t felt in a very long time and for one single moment, I thought about stopping this.

  When he reached for the counter and grabbed a condom, I pushed the past back where it belonged, in the past.

  He stepped toward the shower and opened the glass door, turning the water on and adjusting the knobs so just the showerhead sprayed.

  Although I was certain Clementine couldn’t hear us, I was thankful for the added buffer of the water.

  I’d never let her hear anyone having sex.

  Two long strides and my back was against the wall.

  “Hold on to me,” he commanded.

  Without even flinching, I snaked my arms around his neck and watched as he ripped the condom open with his teeth. He tried to roll it on while still holding me at his waist, but it was an impossible feat.

  “Dammit,” he said in a low voice.

  I pulled back and looked at him. My mouth and throat went dry. He was all hard lines, chiseled abs, such a strong, lean body.

  I shivered at the sight.

  While the water lapped us, his hair fell forward. He looked incredibly sexy—unshaven, naked, and soon to be mine.

  I couldn’t believe I was even thinking this way.

  With the oddest urgent need, I dropped to my knees again and whispered, “Let me.”

  His face was the epitome of seriousness as he handed me the condom.

  My fingers were shaky when I took it, but I still managed to slowly roll it over his silky smooth shaft.

  Once the condom was on, I couldn’t resist touching him. I closed my fist around his big cock and could feel it throbbing. With deliberately slow movements, I stroked up and back down.

  He bit down on his lip and watched me. I was careful to keep one hand at his base and keep the condom in place.

  Something erupted inside me when he thrust his hip forward. I was doing this to him. Turning him on. Making him feel good.

  Oddly, I’d never really cared about anything like this before.

  Feeling needy, I increased my pace.

  He tipped his head back, thrusting his cock into my fist and letting out a muffled noise that made my body quake.

  His hair in his face, the stubble on his jaw, the look in his eyes—it was all too much. My clit started to throb again and I wondered if I was going to orgasm without any manipulation.

  I squeezed my eyes closed, unable to curb the overwhelming sensations washing through me.

  “Hey,” he lifted my chin. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, unable to speak. I couldn’t find my breath.

  He must have sensed I was on the edge or maybe he was, because he pulled me to my feet, took my hands in his, and raised them over my head. He held them in place with one hand and then guided his cock into me with the other.

  Oh. My. God.

  While his lips found mine, his mouth devoured me and his cock began to fill me.

  A peaceful blissfulness washed over me. I was thirty years old and I had never felt this kind of passion. I honestly didn’t think it existed.

  He pushed inside me slowly. A little at a time.

  In.

  Out.

  In.

  Out.

  Heaven.

  “Oh, fuck, you’re so tight,” he moaned.

  At first, alarm rose in my belly, but somehow I managed to push it away. My gaze flickered over his jaw, his hair, and landed on his smoldering eyes. Needy, I jerked my hips forward, urging for more, and suppressed the fact that he was talking.

  He laughed and groaned at the same time. The one sound I knew I’d never forget. He pushed deeper and then again slowly withdrew.

  My hands were bound and I wanted them free so I could reach behind him and push him all the way into me.

  He was breathing hard and so was I, but we still kissed, opened mouthed, tongues touching, teeth clashing.

  Logan dropped his hold.

  Curious as to why, I peeked up at him.

  He blinked the water from his eyes. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

  The deep sound of his voice.

  The way he spoke.

  It didn’t bother me . . . and I didn’t hesitate.

  As soon as my body surrounded his, he lifted me again and . . . oh God . . . he sank deep inside me. I snaked my legs around his back and this way, in this position, his cock fit in my cunt in the most perfect way.

  His thrusts were quick.

  They felt so good.

  His kisses rough.

  They felt so good.

>   His grip tight.

  It felt so good.

  Moving together, we fucked hard and fast. And all the while, incredible bursts of pleasure crested through me, making my entire body shake.

  My orgasm struck fast and shut my mind down. Tiny explosions behind my eyelids took over, and in that moment there was nothing else that mattered but him and me and the way our bodies responded to each other.

  Logan started to come in the midst of my orgasm. I could feel his body still and felt that one, last deep penetration before he called out my name.

  My name.

  I loved how it sounded groaned in ecstasy.

  It was the perfect ending to an incredible union.

  With my clit pulsing around his cock and my body wrapped around his, I wanted to stay like that forever.

  It was strange, but in the moment, I didn’t care about what could never be, or what might be.

  This feeling was what I had been searching for.

  My experience with Charlie had taught me many things, but most of all it taught me love would never be a part of my life. I was fine with that. It’s not like I ever thought it would. He was unexpected. At the risk of sounding cold, he was a nice distraction from my struggle to figure the whole sex thing out. Sex with him hadn’t been the focus of our relationship, which was what had been most appealing about him.

  After him, though, I felt compelled to continue with my quest. Although a self-repressed sexual being by nature, I spent years chasing after what my father needed so desperately from sex that he bled the life out of my mother to get it. I tried everything I could but never found it. I slept with men for the sole purpose of finding it. Once, I even slept with two at the same time. I had a cock in my mouth and one in my cunt. And still nothing. I used vibrators, cock rings, and a drawer full of toys chasing that high that was supposed to come with sex. I had begun to think that it wasn’t for me to experience. And then, with a man I’d just met, a man who by circumstance should have been my enemy, I found it.

  And the worst part was that it took me experiencing it to know for certain that my years of searching were futile—that in no way was that feeling the reason my father fucked my mother to death. Because what I just experienced was entirely mutual. It was as much about what I gave as what I took. And that is what made it so incredible. In my parents’ case, that was in no way what was going on between them.

  Some things in life will just never make sense.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  LOGAN

  I hadn’t smoked in years, but I needed a cigarette.

  I didn’t want to move, and it appeared Elle didn’t either.

  With my cock buried deep inside her, I felt invincible.

  But as my breathing started to recover and the high of my orgasm faded, reality came crashing down.

  I was a fucking idiot.

  I was anything but invincible.

  She was anything but safe.

  And I’d just done the one thing that was certain to cause her harm.

  It didn’t matter when I fucked around in New York City. The Blue Hill Gang didn’t extend their reach that far and besides, it’s not like I went looking for pussy. I let it come to me. Hell, most of the time I didn’t even know their names. They were women looking for a break from the boring social circles we traveled in, and for some reason I was their guy. It worked for me. They’d call my name as I fucked their brains out trying to drown out the memory of Kayla’s screams. I never took numbers, never made promises to see them again, and I never went back for seconds.

  But with Elle something was different, and it scared the shit out of me. Now, even after I was completely sated and spent, I knew once wasn’t enough with her. I had known it all along, though. It wasn’t just that I wanted more; I needed it. She had lit a small flame inside me that I thought had died long ago, and I wanted her to keep that fire alive.

  I wasn’t ready for this to end, so I slid a hand to the back of her neck and drove my fingers into her damp hair, and then I took her mouth eagerly once again. I kissed her passionately, furiously, drawing every ounce of pleasure I could from her—I kissed her the same as I had when I’d been fucking her.

  Like it was the first and last time.

  Because it was.

  She moaned, and I ate up the satisfaction I knew she was feeling.

  It felt good to make someone happy.

  After more than a few beats, I stopped kissing her. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I was out of breath and so was she. But mostly I stopped because reality kept creeping into my head. My highs and lows were becoming more unstable, the endorphins waning the longer the time span from my orgasm.

  Elle used it as her cue to pull away. “We can’t stay like this.”

  The high building again from the sound of her voice alone, I looked down. I didn’t see why not. It was the only time we could. The thought of one more time had my cock stirring in her pussy again. Keeping the mood light, casual even, I shrugged and offered, “I’m up to it if you are.”

  Why beat around the bush?

  She gave me an amused laugh, and it was the most beautiful sound, a sound I knew I’d never forget. “Is that a challenge?”

  I raised a brow, and having a feeling she didn’t back away from challenges, I teased, “It can be.”

  “Your legs must be tired,” she said with the sexiest, raspy tone that I don’t think was on purpose.

  I nipped at her neck. “Nope.”

  She tossed her head back. “Your arms?”

  I couldn’t remember the last time I was playful with a woman.

  If ever.

  Then I remembered. “Oh fuck, your back.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, but I could tell by the way she was twisting that it was bothering her.

  I gently set her down and reached between us to hold the condom in place as I pulled out of her. I missed the warmth instantly and I could tell she did too.

  As soon as I opened the shower door to dispose of the condom, my eyes landed directly in front of me and I froze.

  I was a dumb fuck.

  How the hell had I let my wall down?

  I couldn’t do that.

  I knew better.

  I tried my best to put it back up. Staring longer at the sight of the crack down the mirror I had made earlier certainly helped. It served to remind me who I was, and what I shouldn’t be doing. I was the grandson of the once head of the Irish Mob who had made an enemy of the now head and I knew I couldn’t be seen with any girl around this town, especially not this girl. Somehow, some way, Tommy would find out, and I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

  His day would come.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Elle asked.

  I dared to look at her.

  I shouldn’t have.

  When our eyes met, all I saw was the smile slip from her face.

  I really was an asshole.

  Dropping my gaze, I grabbed a towel and handed it to her. Completely pissed at myself, I avoided looking at her and answered, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  The chill in the air said I wasn’t.

  She wrapped the towel around herself and then opened one of the bags she must have set on the floor earlier. “I should get dressed,” she said quietly.

  I could tell she was putting up her own wall.

  The tension in the room left me feeling guilty. I dried off and pulled my pants on, then turned to her and lamely said, “I have some things to take care of. I’ll be out in the other room if you need me.”

  Her mouth thinned and I could see her armor go all the way up. “Yes, sure, of course.”

  I was being a dick and I knew it.

  The awareness of my actions cut like a knife.

  Odd.

  It had never bothered me before. I did what I did because I had to, and I’d grown used to it. Numb to any reaction. I shook off the strange feeling and looked at my watch. “Almost ten.”

  Elle nodded. “I think I’ll just go to bed.”


  I turned around to walk out the door and didn’t even look back before I left. I felt like I was bleeding. I wanted to kiss her. To say good night. But I couldn’t, because I knew if I looked into her green eyes and watched them fill up with some unknown emotion, I’d scoop her up and pull her in my arms and tell her I was sorry for being an asshole. The cold routine was for her own good, though.

  That I wanted her but couldn’t have her didn’t matter.

  I feared that if I spent another minute with her, I’d tell her why.

  And then what would she think of me?

  The closed door between the living area and the bedroom acted as a buffer between us, which was good because I needed to think clearly about the situation. And not the one that had just occurred. The one we were both in with Patrick, and Tommy, too, of course.

  Someone stalking Elle made no sense. It wasn’t Patrick’s style. I started to wonder if maybe she was being paranoid. The shadows she saw could very easily have been caused by the wind. But where the fuck was the garage door opener? Had whoever broken into her car taken it? I’d have her check for that first.

  It was the logical step.

  I pulled my body onto the couch and threw my head back on the small pillow. Exhaustion eased its way into my bones and I allowed myself to close my eyes.

  Screaming woke me up.

  Elle’s voice.

  My heart slammed like a rock against my chest and terror raced through me. I bolted up, grabbed my SIG, and ran for the bedroom door. I wanted to kick it down but thought better of it and eased it open instead. Light spilled into the dark room from the living area and I shot a 360-degree glance around. The baby girl was sleeping soundly in the crib, but Elle was thrashing in the sheets again.

  No one was in there with her.

  Thank God.

  After I realized she was having another nightmare, I rushed over to the bed and set my gun down on the night table, where the digital clock read 2:31 in the morning.

  “Get out. Get out. I never want to see you again!” she yelled.

  I might have thought it was me she was yelling at if she hadn’t had a nightmare just last night. The thought it could be me was like a heavy weight on my shoulders and I instantly regretted my retreat just a few hours ago. I stared down at her and kept my voice quiet. “Elle, wake up. It’s just a dream.”