Axel (Men of Mirror Lake Mountain, book 1): A Penny Dee Spicy Bites Novella
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Penny Dee Spicy Bites
Novella
Axel
The Men of Mirror Lake Book 1
Penny Dee
Copyright 2020 Penny Dee
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
Copy editing by Elaine York at Allusion Graphics
Book design by Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by Marisa at Cover Me Darling
Cover Image Copyright 2020
All Rights Reserved
Penny Dee Spicy Bites are a collection of short and sexy novellas featuring delectable, alpha book heroes who are obsessed, completely over the top, and willing to do anything for their women. Dirty, filthy and utterly delicious, every story delivers all the kindle-melting goodness and lip-biting yumminess you’re looking for.
Call the fire department because things are about to get hot in here! Axel, book one in the Men of Mirror Lake Mountain series is straight up what fantasies are made of, with an over-the-top sexy hero, a heroine who gives as good as she gets, and so much Kindle-melting deliciousness you will lose your mind!
So, sit back, check reality at the door and get ready for one lip-biting, toe-curling read!
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Blurb
Lauren Carmichael is going to be kidnapped.
And the last thing I want to do is get involved.
But when I overhear the plans to abduct her on the eve of her wedding, I know I have to do something.
My past stops me from going to the authorities, and I don’t know how deep this conspiracy goes in the small town of Mirror Lake Mountain, so asking for help is too risky.
I can only trust myself.
I have no choice.
To keep her safe, I’ll have to kidnap the pain-in-the-ass heiress myself.
Dedication
To all the readers who have joined me on this ride. I’m so grateful for you xx
Table of Contents
Newsletter
Blurb
Dedication
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Connect With Me Online
About The Author
Chapter One
LAUREN
It’s impossible to sleep. I punch my pillow and lie back down, hoping a shift in position will help.
But no.
I’m too tightly wound to relax.
My skin is damp. My body tight.
My head a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts and crazy nerves.
I keep telling myself it’s pre-wedding jitters, after all, this time tomorrow I’ll be married to the most eligible man in New York. Vince the Prince, they call him. A Wall Street miracle man. The tabloids love our story. The Wall Street prince and the society princess. Apparently, we’re a match made in tabloid heaven. Him a good-looking stock broker in his three-piece suits and chiseled model looks, and me, Lauren Carmichael, daughter of the King of Wall Street, Christopher Carmichael.
Yep. That’s it. I’m famous for being born to a stock-brokering genius. And that’s about as far as my achievements go. Oh wait, I did go to college, even got a degree in what my father called a waste of money, otherwise known as Naturopathy. I started in law, hated it, and quickly changed to something I actually enjoyed. Law was stuffy. Naturopathy wasn’t. I was more at home with the tinctures and oil remedies than the anatomy of law.
Daddy was furious. But he wasn’t available for consultation when I decided to change career paths, because he was caught up with some kind of stock-brokering crisis on the Street, so I went ahead and changed it anyway. Unfortunately, naturopathy was not a suitable career choice for a society princess, and Daddy lost his shit. Now, I’m pretty sure he’s marrying me off to Vince just so my new husband can deal with my stubborn ass so he doesn’t have to. He’s been struggling to know how to handle me since my mom died fifteen years earlier when I was just twelve years old and at the threshold of puberty.
I turn again and try to settle comfortably into the mattress.
The mattress that costs a thousand dollars a night to sleep on.
We’re staying at the spectacular Mirror Lake Lodge, deep in the alpine woods of Misty Peaks. It’s a sprawling mountain lodge of pine logs, river stone fireplaces, and raftered cathedral ceilings. A favorite getaway for the rich and famous. Here they drink overpriced bottles of champagne, bathe in deep tubs made from Italian marble, and indulge in their scandalous rendezvous with everyone but their spouses, hidden among the smoky seclusion of the mountain. Or there was the other side of the coin where this palatial mountain hideaway is used as their personal detox facility, where they can spend weeks coming down off of whatever has them up by order of the courts following some kind of scandal.
But not even the rich and famous are allowed here this weekend.
Unless by invitation, of course. And out of the five-hundred guests due to arrive, I’m sure there are certainly a few of those. I say, I’m sure because like any of this, I haven’t been involved in the planning. My friends extend to the number of fingers on my right hand. Which is five, just to be clear.
It is costing my father almost a hundred-thousand dollars just to hold the wedding in this magnificent location.
It was Vince’s idea. He was insistent we get married here. He wanted the mountain hideaway where a lot of guests would have to arrive by helicopter.
I had envisioned something a little less extravagant. A beach wedding on California sand, or a small garden ceremony somewhere, followed by an intimate reception for family and close friends.
Mirror Lake Mountain Lodge seems a little over th
e top.
But I have to admit, I’ve already been seduced by the mountain with its alpine forests, the heady scent of sap, and crisp summit air that makes my skin tingle.
Just like everything he turns his mind to, Vince has gotten it right.
I sigh.
Vince.
Lately, things have been a little … strained between us. It’s been weeks, months, since he’s touched me. His work keeps him busy. He usually spends most nights working, and afterward sleeps at his apartment in the Upper East Side, while I live in a palatial loft on Park Avenue.
Right now, my body is so tight with need it’s like a tightly coiled spring ready to explode.
Tonight, we are sleeping separately. Being the night before the wedding, Vince insisted we spend it apart. He’s with his groomsmen in a ridiculously expensive lodge in town, while I spent the evening with my three bridesmaids being pampered and primped, and drinking champagne. But my bridesmaids have gone to their rooms to get some sleep, and now I am alone.
And needy.
I let my fingers slide down my torso and gently sweep back up again.
Vince says it will change once we’re married. We’ll be living together, so we’ll see each other more. And he will be more attentive then.
But I need something now.
I need to be touched.
Made love to.
Fucked hard.
To come.
My clit aches, and when I reach down to rub it, bliss curls through my limbs. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and moan, letting my mind drift to wherever it wants to go.
Which just happens to be to the gorgeous handyman the lodge has helping them set up for the wedding.
Tall. Muscular. With arms as big as my thighs and shoulders as round as boulders.
Today, I watched him unload chairs and tables from the back of a truck, spellbound by his powerful arms and how they effortlessly lifted six or seven chairs at a time and carried them inside the garden chapel where I would become a wife in less than twenty-four hours. I’d watched him from the seclusion of my balcony, a secret thrill taking up in me as I watched every flex and pull of his muscles as he lifted and carried heavy objects with ease.
From behind he was magnificent. Impressive. With thick slabs of muscles for arms and a broad back. But when he turned around and I saw that sharp jaw covered in just enough scruff and eyes the color of emeralds, my insides had flipped on themselves.
Now the muscles between my legs are doing the same thing. They throb at the thought of those big hands on my body, parting my thighs as he sinks his head to my pussy and tortures my clit with his tongue.
I gasp as arousal rolls through me.
A man like that, he knows how to make you come with his tongue. And in my mind, he is doing just that, licking me, penetrating me, growling as he laps at my clit and commands me to come for him.
Because he would be demanding. Powerful. Commanding. He would hold me down until I did what he wanted.
I feel my muscles quiver. In my mind I can feel his tongue penetrate me. Feel the scruff of his jaw graze my thighs. Feel the quickening of my heart as he pushes my thighs farther apart so he can open me up, and fuck me with his glorious tongue.
My toes curl and dig into the mattress, while the fingers on the hand that isn’t rubbing my clit scrunches into the bedsheet beneath me. My back arches. Pleasure tightens like a coil where my fingers rub at my clit.
I come thinking about him. My body trembling with euphoric bliss as an earth-shattering orgasm rolls through me. I cry out, my breathing heavy as I fall further and further into my fantasy, thinking about the rugged handyman with bright green eyes.
Chapter Two
AXEL
Jesus Christ, she’s touching herself and I’m so fucking hard as I watch her. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry, thick, aching to taste that sweet pussy she’s sliding her fingers into. I stand in the shadows, my cock throbbing, my balls full and tense with a desperate need for release. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the sweet taste of a woman against my lips. Let alone watched one bring herself to one orgasm after another.
Her first whimpered cry had grabbed my attention as I’d stealthily made my way through the shadows of the lodge, quietly creeping up the stairway and along the carpeted hallway near her room. Her second had made my cock come to life as I’d approached the door to her private suite and quietly entered using a key I’d stolen from the front desk.
Now I’m in the room with her, and she doesn’t even know I’m only yards from the bed where she is rubbing her pussy and moaning with pleasure.
I adjust my cock and remind myself to focus. But it’s hard to do when she’s lying on her bed, moonlight raining down on her near-naked body as she touches herself. It’s hard to keep my mind on the task ahead when all I can see is the milkiness of her skin, the firmness of her thighs and the way they clench as her pleasure swells and then recedes, only to come back fast and twice as intense.
She breathes out a whimpered moan, not realizing I’m watching her, and I grab my erection through my pants, unable to resist a few rubs against the hard shaft. My knees weaken slightly and I lick my lips as a need for release stirs in my balls. Yeah, baby, rub that pussy. Come for me, angel. My breathing quickens, my heart pounds against my ribs.
Watching in the darkness isn’t usually my thing.
I’m not a creeper. I prefer the real thing to watching.
But damn, this woman has me aching hard.
She is fascinating.
Beautiful.
But time is of the essence. They’ll be here soon. And her life depends on me getting her out of here without them seeing.
Today I overheard them. Overheard their plan. If I didn’t do this now, tonight was going to end badly for her.
She cries out as she comes, and I have to bite down on my lip as a groan strangles in my throat.
Startled, she sits up.
I snap to attention.
My cover is blown.
She knows I am here.
Chapter Three
LAUREN
I grab the sheet and pull it over me.
“Who’s there?” I demand.
My heart drums against my ribs. I know I heard something in the shadows. I squint in the darkness but can’t see anything. I hold my breath and strain to hear. But there’s nothing. I reach for the lamp on the bedside table but it doesn’t switch on.
Certain something is wrong, I cross the room to the light switch on the wall. Nothing. The power is out.
Feeling vulnerable in nothing but my panties and tank top, I reach for the closest item of clothing—which is a coat hanging over the arm of a chair next to the bed—then move quickly through the darkness to check the light in the bathroom. But it’s out too.
Something is definitely wrong.
Knowing I need to contact the concierge, I reach for my yoga pants and slip on a pair of knee-high moccasins that are close by and pad across the room to the door. But as I reach for the door handle, a gloved hand slides across my mouth and a hard, solid body moves behind me and crushes me to the firm wall of muscle.
“If you want to live, don’t scream,” the deep, husky voice rasps in my ear. It’s a man. His voice a hoarse whisper, his breath is warm and oddly comforting on my cheek. I nod, my heart racing.
Take it all in and remember it for later, my survival instincts scream at me.
Okay, so a man has me in his arms and he is big. At least six foot five, six foot six. And hard. Everywhere. And the arm hooked around me is huge, in fact, it’s so big I doubt I could get my hands around the biceps, given the chance.
A strangled whimper escapes me and his hold on me tightens.
“If they hear you, princess, they will hurt you,” he growls in my ear.
I don’t know who they are.
And I don’t know who he is.
All I know is I am in danger and I need to fight.
With an almighty stomp, I drive my fo
ot down onto his and thrust an elbow deep into his stomach. But his abs are strong, hard, and pain glows in my elbow. But it’s enough to catch him by surprise and he releases his hold on me.
I try to run, but with a frustrated growl he wraps another big arm around my waist and thrusts my body up against the wall. Bulging biceps cage either side of my head, while a powerful body pins me against the wall. It’s then that I get my first look at him. He’s dressed in black with a balaclava over his face, and just his emerald green eyes exposed.
I gasp.
Those eyes.
It’s him.
The handyman.
For a moment they hold me mesmerized, just as his strong body keeps me pressed against the wall. I can feel every inch of him. Every hard inch, and my breathing hitches.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper.
A gloved hand slides across my mouth. “You need to trust me. Or they will find you and they will take you.”
Our eyes remain locked as I slowly nod.
He releases his grip on me and I exhale deeply. It’s crazy to admit, but those eyes tell me he isn’t going to hurt me. That I should trust him.
I relax slightly and he can feel it. He takes a step back, but his eyes keep me pinned to the wall. A small throb of desire quivers in my pussy. A minute ago, I was making myself come fantasizing about him. Now he’s standing in front of me, and from what I can tell, he’s going to take me somewhere and I’m not even frightened. Even though he just told me I was in danger and someone wants to kill me. Instead, excitement and lust collide in me.
It’s official. I’m fucking crazy.
Together we move through the dark. Moonlight stripes the plush carpet in the hallway of the lodge as we make our way down the stairs and across the grand foyer toward the front door.