by Jessa James
Bad Boy’s Kiss
Jessa James
Bad Boy’s Kiss: Copyright © 2021 by Jessa James
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All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical, digital or mechanical including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning or by any type of data storage and retrieval system without express, written permission from the author.
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Published by Jessa James
James, Jessa
Bad Boy’s Kiss
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Cover design copyright 2021 by Jessa James, Author
Images/Photo Credit: Deposit photos: Ensuper, mrbigphoto
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Publisher’s Note:
This book was written for an adult audience. The book may contain explicit sexual content. Sexual activities included in this book are strictly fantasies intended for adults and any activities or risks taken by fictional characters within the story are neither endorsed nor encouraged by the author or publisher.
This book has been previously published.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
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About the Author
1
Colt wasn’t sure where he was.
The ether, his brain said. Wherever that is…
He looked around, but everything aside from him was a dull, misty gray. It was a boundless, endless expanse of nothingness.
“Colt,” came a voice. A woman’s voice. It sounded melodic, here in the ether.
He turned slowly, and saw her walking toward him. Medium height, hair like the waves of a dark sea, skin like burnished gold, eyes that were grey as the first light of dawn. She wore nothing but a piece of thin fabric, wrapped around her body in clever way.
I could pull that off, he thought. See what’s underneath…
He opened his mouth to say so, but no sound came out. The woman smiled, coming closer.
“Shhh,” she said, stepping up and putting her finger to his lips. “Let me.”
She slipped a hand behind his head and kissed him. Her lips were warm and soft, until her teeth nipped at his lower lip.
He made a sound, low in his throat, a sound to tell her that he liked it. She pressed herself against him, her breasts against his chest, his cock hard against her belly.
He wanted her. More than that, he needed her.
He brought his hand up to her breast, caressed it. Pinched and rolled the nipple. She gave a gentle moan, grinding her hips against him.
“Dominate me,” she whispered.
Fuck. He’d never been so hard in his life.
He kissed her again, then turned her in his arms. He pushed her body down, and he went with her, on top of her. The ether caught their fall, cradling them just like Colt wanted.
He knelt behind her, parting her knees.
She is so hot. He touched her core, found her dripping wet and ready for him. Fuck yes.
He unzipped his pants, pushed them down. His cock sprang free, in all its glory. She slipped two fingers between her legs, breathing heavily.
He fisted his cock, pressing it to her entrance.
Ahhh, he thought. This… this is it. Feels like I belong here.
He began to press forward, feeling like he was losing his virginity for the first time, rather than his thousandth time. She was so tight, so wet.
And the noises she made…
Sweet Jesus.
He heard the distant sound of drums, making him pause. That sound didn’t belong here…
Colt snapped awake. It was early evening, no longer the appropriate time for an afternoon nap.
BANG BANG BANG BANG.
“Colt! Colt!” his brother Sawyer was shouting.
“Christ,” he said, sitting up. “Alright!”
Throwing off the covers, Colt got up, cursing his brother. He went to the door of his little apartment, throwing it open.
“What?” he said, feeling more than a little surly that his big brother had woken him from such a good dream.
“Remy’s busy with Shiloh for a little while, so I thought you might want to go grab a drink.”
Eyeing Sawyer, Colt relented. They never got to just go out and be boys anymore, now that Sawyer was married.
“Give me a minute to get dressed,” Colt sighed.
He left Sawyer on the doorstep, and went to grab some pants.
2
“Fucking rich cripple…”
Colt Roman looked over his shoulder at the guys sitting at the bar, where the comment had originated. He didn’t glare at them or sneer, but he felt a ripple of unease run through the group when they noticed they had his attention.
Good. They should be scared of me, he thought.
Brett Harrison, leader of their little gang, raised his glass at Colt in mock salute. He felt his teeth grit in response.
“Hey,” his brother Sawyer said, rapping his knuckles on the table when he noticed Colt was no longer listening. Colt turned back to him reluctantly. “We’ve got better things to do than to fight with them, Colt.”
“Easy to say when you’re not the one they’re talking shit about. You aren’t missing half a leg from Afghanistan,” Colt said, cracking his knuckles absently.
He was missing his left foot, and a little more. All the way to the shin, and no further! as his VA doctor liked to joke.
“No, but I know what’s going to happen if you get in another fight.”
Colt looked around The Speckled Hen, the only bar in town. It would be his third fight in as many months, and the local judge could send him to jail if it happened again.
Or worse, anger counseling, where he’d be forced to talk about his feelings.
He grimaced at the thought. “All right. So back to the developers.”
He glanced up at Sawyer. Looking at his brother was like looking in a mirror, if only a couple years older. Tall, with dark hair and a proud nose… and glittering hazel-green eyes that had caused many a women to swoon.
Sawyer was the oldest of the three Roman boys, and probably considered himself as the wisest too, now that he’d gone and got married. Walker, their middle brother, would agree with Colt. Sawyer didn’t always know what was best.
Sawyer picked back up on the story about the developer that had visited his place in the town’s strip, aka the most expensive part of their podunk town. Which wasn’t saying much. Catahoula Creek wasn’t exactly the most exciting part of Louisiana, no
t with the mecca of New Orleans to the east.
The town only had the bare basics: school, post office, grocery store. Plus a small but growing row of houses in the strip — Sawyer, his wife Remy, and their son Shiloh had started a trend, it seemed.
Colt half-listened to Sawyer talk about the developer, but his attention slowly wandered back to the guys at the bar. Sawyer was right when he’d called them rednecks. All three of the Roman brothers had joined the Navy, worked their way into the SEALs, toured the entire world.
These guys at the bar, in their patriotic shirts with the sleeves cut off and bottom lips fat with dip, had never made it farther than a few towns away, and probably never would.
“…anyway, that’s what I think,” Sawyer said, finishing with a shake of his head.
“Right, right,” Colt said, shaking his head in unison. He quickly drained the rest of his beer and stood. “I’m going to get another beer. You want one?”
“Nah, I’m watching Shiloh as soon as I get home, so Remy can have a break.”
Colt smiled. Listening to Sawyer talk about being pussy-whipped was almost endearing, especially when you considered what a slut his brother used to be.
“All right,” he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder, ignoring the warning look he was giving him. “Be right back.”
He walked to the bar, hearing the conversation fall into silence as he leaned up against it.
“You gonna have the same?” Missy asked him, already grabbing a fresh mug.
“Yep.”
Missy was Remy’s replacement behind the bar. Once Remy’d gotten pregnant the second time, Sawyer had put his foot down about his bride working at The Speckled Hen.
Missy was also one of Colt’s regular hookups when her husband was working on an offshore oil rig. It wasn’t exactly on the up-and-up, but Missy was going to get some strange where she could, when her husband was away.
Might as well be Colt, sometimes.
She poured the beer, giving him flirty eyes the whole time. When she brought it over to him, she leaned in closer than necessary.
“Two more weeks until Tommy is at work again…” she whispered, then winked.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, sipping the foam from the top of his beer.
“Missy, come serve us,” Brett called over, his cronies chuckling around him. “We got all our working parts, unlike somebody…”
Colt gripped his glass, having reached his limit. “Say that to my face,” he said in a low voice.
The rednecks turned around on their bar stools, moving as one as if they all shared the same brain, as small as it may be. Brett smirked.
“Gladly. You—”
That was all he got out before Colt swung his fist into the guy’s face. Quick as can be, two rednecks jumped in.
Colt couldn’t see through the haze of red tingeing his vision. He just swung his fists like twin war hammers, reveling in their might, in the taste of blood on his tongue.
They got a couple good punches in, one of them landing a blow square in his left eye. He fired back, pummeling the guy’s torso. Brett went down.
Colt’s heart pumped frantically, and for a moment he felt free…
Then Sawyer jumped in, and it was all over then. No one would hit Sawyer, a respectable family man. He happened to have been a SEAL as well, and he wasn’t missing part of his leg either.
Colt growled as Sawyer grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out of the bar, the rednecks heckling his retreat.
“Jesus, Colt,” Sawyer muttered, turning loose his neck as they stepped outside, just to grab him by the arms instead. “Three fights…”
Sawyer frog-marched Colt the three long blocks back to his house, a blue two-story gabled affair with a white picket fence, where Colt had left his truck parked earlier. Colt just took it, not shaking free until they were climbing the steps of the house.
He silently jogged the rest of the way up, already knowing what his brother would have to say… and agreeing. For the most part, anyway.
“Colt…” Sawyer started, looking like he was gearing up for a lecture, before thinking better of it and just shaking his head in disappointment instead. “Why the hell do you let them get to you like that?”
Colt blew out a breath as they walked into the house and straight to the kitchen to sit down. It had always been their way as kids to talk out their problems in the kitchen. Now they did it at Sawyer’s newly-constructed house instead of at Roman Ranch.
Colt struggled to find the words to explain. “You don’t… you don’t see it. They’re so fucking in-my-face…”
Colt could see that his brother was beyond frustrated with him, pinching the bridge of his nose the way that he did, as if Colt was a bad headache he needed to alleviate.
“Just… stay put. Stay here in the house until I can… do whatever damage control I can,” Sawyer said, shaking his head. “I’ll have to apologize to Remy. Actually, no… you have to apologize to Remy.”
He shot Colt a meaningful glance as Shiloh came barrelling into the room.
“Daaadddddyyyyy!” Shiloh said, exuberant. His dark hair stood out from his head like a wild man.
“Hey, Shi.” Sawyer scooped him up, kissed the top of his head, and put him down in one smooth motion. “I gotta run and do something. Uncle Colt’s gonna take care of you.”
Shiloh’s small face scrunched up in disapproval. “Mommy said that her feet hurt, so she’s gonna put them up. She said when you are home, which you are, you’re supposed to show me how to use the iPad.”
Sawyer gave his son a placating smile. “Well, good thing your uncle is here. He’s the best iPad-er on the planet.”
Shiloh was almost six, so this news was exciting for him.
“Colt, really? Cooooolllll!” he said, hopping up and down.
“Uh, yeah, I am,” Colt said with much less enthusiasm.
Shiloh stopped jumping around as he looked up at Colt, his head tilting to the side as he studied him. “Hey, Uncle Colt, what happened to your face?”
Colt stiffened in surprise, throwing a pleading look to his brother for help. The asshole just raised his eyebrows innocently in response, as if to say Yes, Uncle Colt. Do tell.
“Uh, nothing, buddy. Just a little accident,” he explained awkwardly, before moving in with the distraction. “Hey, how about you go get the iPad and get set up in the living room. I’ll come and meet you when I’m done talking to your daddy.”
“Okay!” Shiloh said, running out of the room.
Sawyer nodded to himself as he watched his son go before turning to face Colt. “I gotta go. Talk to Remy, tell her where I’m at.”
“Thanks,” Colt said grudgingly.
Sawyer just gave him a tight smile and headed out. A second later, Colt heard the front door slam.
With his brother gone, Colt walked back to the master bedroom where he assumed Remy was, wanting to get the “telling” out of the way. He found her propped up on the bed, a pretty blonde angel surrounded by a sea of pillows.
Remy was also about eight months pregnant… and asleep.
No explaining for me today, he thought, quietly relieved. Colt silently backed out of the room and crept back down the hall. Maybe I’ll write her a note or something…
He paused, taking a deep breath and rubbing a hand over his face before entering the living room for some quality time with his nephew.
He and Shiloh were still playing with the iPad when Sawyer returned an hour later. Colt looked up expectantly when Sawyer entered the room.
“Well, you’re not gonna be arrested,” Sawyer said by way of greeting, scooping up the iPad-absorbed Shiloh and sitting on the opposite couch.
“No?”
“Nope. I talked to the town judge before anybody else could.”
“And?”
“He says if there’s another incident, he’s gonna have to get the sheriff involved.”
Colt shoulders sagged. “Well… it could be a lot worse.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Sawyer ignored him, continuing his rant. “There’s a rumor going around that there are prospect developers on everyone’s land, looking for oil and god knows what else. I am not moving back to the ranch, and Walker hasn’t come back from working for the contractor yet, so that leaves you running the show.”
“I know, Sawyer.”
Sawyer squinted hard at Colt, then shrugged.
“You also have to do some community service.” Sawyer added, looking dubious. “He seemed to think it would do you some good.”
Colt looked at Sawyer, who was sober as a priest.
“Okay,” he said cautiously when Sawyer failed to elaborate on what this community service entailed. “What do I have to do?”
“You’re the one-man welcoming committee for the new veterinarian. First one we’ve had since old Mr. Larrett died, so… you know. Be nice.”
“Mr. Larrett probably died from meanness as much as old age,” Colt muttered defensively.
“So? He could be meaner than that, and you’re still going to help. You're also gonna fix up that old veterinarian’s office. Make Catahoula Creek really seem like a good place to live, okay? The town needs this. Unless you have a veterinary degree that I don’t know about, hidden away somewhere?” Sawyer raised his eyebrows in challenge.
