The Bad Boys Of Molly Riot: The Complete Hard Rock Star Series

by Jade Allen

  ****

  “Chelsea…wake up, sleepy-head.” Chelsea turned over in bed, for a moment uncertain when she had gotten into the warm, soft sheets. She rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms, shifting and stretching—and then, as a flicker of pain crackled through her, remembered everything: eating an early dinner with Johan, taking a Vicodin, watching a little TV and dozing off. She had barely awakened when Johan had carried her into the master bedroom.

  “Mm, what time is it?” Chelsea opened her eyes, blinking quickly as light flooded into them.

  “Morning,” Johan said, slithering under the blankets and sheets next to her.

  “I seriously slept—what? Ten hours?”

  “Twelve,” Johan told her with a little grin. He wrapped his arms around her carefully, avoiding her bruised rib.

  “I thought you were going to show me about—something, something, you’re not my mom.” Johan chuckled lowly, his hands beginning to wander over her body slowly.

  “That is, in fact, why I’m here,” Johan said, cupping her breast in his palm. He turned her face towards his and kissed her on the lips, his tongue darting into her mouth, exploring and probing. “How’s the knee? And the ankle?” he asked, breaking away for just a moment. Chelsea shivered as Johan’s caresses teased, lingering at her breasts one moment and then drifting down to her hips, slipping between her legs to stroke her lightly.

  “Better,” Chelsea said when her lips were once more free. Johan’s lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, dragging along her throat. “How—how are we going to…” Chelsea gasped as Johan’s fingers slipped and slid along her already-slick labia, rubbing slightly. She shivered, twisting her hips as Johan’s touch deepened, his fingers finding her clit unerringly.

  “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought,” Johan said, his voice rough with desire. “Gave me something to…while away the time you were asleep.” Johan kissed her lightly on the lips, and slowly, carefully maneuvered himself on top of her, holding himself up as he withdrew his fingers from her soaking wet vulva. “First, I’m going to make you come,” Johan murmured, pulling Chelsea’s legs apart gently. “And then… well, you’ll see.” Johan grinned at her, and then began to trail kisses down from her lips, along the column of her throat, past her collarbones. Chelsea shivered as Johan lingered at her breasts, claiming each of her nipples in turn, licking and sucking each one. Johan’s fingers stroked just between her labia as he worshipped her breasts with lips and tongue, sending tingling jolts of pleasure through her body.

  Just when Chelsea thought she couldn’t stand any more teasing, Johan continued downward, kissing and nibbling along her ribs, past her abdomen. He nuzzled her hip, nipping sharply at the sensitive skin there, and Chelsea gasped, reaching down to tangle her fingers in his hair. Johan slithered down between her legs, spreading her thighs just slightly wider, careful to support her injured knee. Chelsea moaned out as Johan buried his face against her soaking wet pussy, sucking and licking hungrily. He pulled her labia into his mouth as he flickered his tongue up and down along her folds, tasting her thoroughly.

  Chelsea’s hips bucked and twisted as Johan brought his tongue up to her clit, barely swiping against the bead of nerves before moving down to the well of her pussy once more. She tugged at Johan’s hair without thinking, grabbed at his shoulder, too wrapped up in the pleasure of his mouth against her to remember where he was injured or even try to avoid it. Johan nuzzled against her, focusing his efforts on her pleasure center, and even though she tried to hold back, to savor the sensations coursing through her, Chelsea found her self-control slipping every moment, until she felt the growing knot of tension between her hips unravel, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her. Johan continued his worship even as Chelsea pitched and writhed, forgetting all about her own injuries, lost in the sensations coursing through her nervous system.

  Johan began to pull back as the spasms of pleasure began to abate, lapping up her fluids more slowly and then retreating, leaving Chelsea shivering in the aftershocks for just a moment before he slithered on top of her once more. “Are you ready for more?” Johan asked her, kissing her lightly on the lips. Chelsea struggled to catch her breath, draping her arms limply around his broad shoulders.

  “Not really but keep going anyway,” she said, smiling breathlessly. Johan chuckled and Chelsea felt him shifting her body around, moving above her even as he held himself up to keep from putting pressure on the parts of her body that still ached. She could feel the heat and hardness of his cock pressing against her, and even though Chelsea was still hovering in the haze of orgasm, she felt a ripple of renewed lust.

  Johan carefully brought Chelsea’s injured leg up, resting her calf against his shoulder, and Chelsea bit her bottom lip, briefly uncertain; but as he thrust into her slowly, filling her up inch by inch, any worry about hurting herself evaporated. Johan rocked his hips, pushing deeper and deeper inside of her as Chelsea began to move with him. Hot and cold flashes of sensation crackled through her, and she reached out, carefully stretching to touch Johan everywhere. He held her leg on top of his shoulder, his free hand trailing over her body, stroking and caressing her, teasing her nipples one moment and then drifting down between their bodies to rub her clit the next. Chelsea arched and writhed, moaning out as the friction between them built up.

  She could feel Johan’s cock twitching inside of her, feel the tension in his body as they continued to move together; Chelsea forgot even the memory of pain as more and more pleasure coursed through her, bringing her swiftly to the edge of orgasm, grabbing and clutching at Johan’s body as if for life itself. They both reached orgasm at almost the same moment—Chelsea felt her self-control give way, and then felt the first hot, sticky-slick splash of Johan’s come rushing into her as they moaned together, crying out in pleasure.

  Johan carefully fell to the bed next to her, letting her leg slide from his shoulder as he draped his arms around her. Chelsea trembled, turning onto her side to cuddle close to Johan as they both panted and gasped for breath. “Okay,” she said, smiling slightly as she looked up into his face. “You’re definitely not my mom.” Johan laughed out loud, his arms tightening around her.

  “I would hope not!” Johan kissed her eagerly. “How do you feel now?” Chelsea considered the question.

  “Like I want half a Vicodin, breakfast, and then some more of this.” Johan chuckled.

  “I mean about your life,” he told her, tousling her hair playfully.

  “Well it could be all the pleasure chemicals in my system, but I’m pretty optimistic, on the whole,” Chelsea said. “You’re not just going to leave me when this is all over, are you?” Johan shook his head.

  “I told you yesterday: you’re stuck with me until you tell me to leave.” Chelsea smiled.

  “What are we going to do until the trial? I mean, I can’t work…” Johan brought her face up to his and kissed her hungrily.

  “Well, personally my plan is to keep you fed, keep you from getting hurt again, and regularly fuck your brains out, as long as you want to fuck me.” He nibbled along the column of her throat. “I seem to recall you having an issue with me ‘bullying you’ into fucking on my schedule.” Chelsea laughed, and clutched at her bruised rib as the movement sent a ripple of pain strong enough to cut through the haze of pleasure and painkillers.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, breathing carefully. “No more complaints about that.” Johan pulled her closer, nuzzling against her neck.

  “Then I think we’ll be just fine.” Johan kissed her again. “No more tantrums until you’re healed up, got it?” Chelsea nodded.

  “Got it. Now when are you going to feed me?” Johan guided her hand down along his body, and she laughed, half-groaning as she realized he was starting to become hard again. “One more time. Then we eat and get some drugs in me.”

  “We have nothing but time,” Johan murmured, and they began to move together once more.

  ****

  Chelsea managed
to walk into the courtroom without limping, although the high heels the attorney had insisted she should wear for her stint on the witness stand made both her knee and ankle ache. She was healing—and Johan’s client had generously covered the expenses of her physical therapy, as well as the continued visits to the doctor—but it was slow.

  She was grateful to have Johan at her side; Chelsea glanced in the direction of the defense table and saw her former employer, Aaron Rosen, glaring daggers in her direction. There was no doubt in her mind that if Rosen somehow did manage to avoid conviction, he would continue to send people after her—only it would be for the pleasure of revenge rather than the desire to keep her silent. She had mentioned that possibility to Johan the night before, as she lay awake in bed, worrying about her first day of testimony. “If he gets off,” Johan had said, pulling her around and on top of him, “then I will take you with me to Sweden, and we’ll live there. He’s small time, Chelsea-baby. He doesn’t have the resources to follow you outside of the country.” The prosecutor had told her that with her testimony—and the evidence that she had provided—it was practically no contest. The trial would end, and Rosen would be convicted and spend the rest of his days serving out consecutive sentences—to which the district attorney had added murder and attempted murder.

  Whatever happened, Chelsea thought as she gave Johan’s hand a brief squeeze, glancing at him for support, she knew that the man who had come into her life so unexpectedly, and who she had fought against so hard, would stand by her and support her.

  THE END

  Taken By The Hometown Bad Boy

  Story Description

  Ten long years, and here I am back in my hometown of Riverdale.

  The plan was to swoop in, make a quick appearance at my lame high school reunion and then get out as quickly as possible.

  Fate had something else in store for me, and his name was Jace Dillinger, the hottest bad boy in town.

  In high school, I gave him the cold shoulder because of the crowd he hung out with.

  He wasn't my type back then, but now...it’s funny how time changes people.

  Here we are catching up at a townie bar having a few drinks...what trouble could we possibly get into? ;)

  The first thing Natalia Hyde noticed when her taxi drove her past the sign that said, ‘Welcome to Riverdale,’ was that everything seemed exactly as it had been the day she left. The streets were all the same, the lovely suburban arrangement of roundabouts that had been fun to ride around on bikes. The twenty-eight-year-old had expected to find some changes, maybe expansions or even a few changes on a few stores but nothing… it was as if someone had grabbed a huge remote control and pressed pause on the whole town.

  The only viable change that Natalia noticed was that people were older, and the kids now running around the parks and streets had faces she didn’t recognize.

  The taxi drove her toward the town’s only known hotel, a measly Hilton Garden Inn at the edge of the highway. She remembered seeing this same little place for years and was pleasantly surprised to note that it looked like it had been renovated. It was much bigger than she remembered.

  Paying her fare and pulling her bag out of the back of the car, Natalia strutted through the mechanical doors, feeling a cool draft yank at her clothes and long black hair as she entered. It was definitely different; maybe that pause button didn’t affect everything after all.

  When Natalia entered the lobby, she was surprised to find it rather busy; several people were talking with the concierge, a young woman with thick blonde hair styled in large ringlets. She looked rather out of her league, appearing absolutely nervous as she assisted a man with immense shoulders. The back of his head had a particularly large scar that Natalia recognized instantly.

  “Brad?” She spoke before she could hold her tongue and the broad man turned around. There was a moment when he appraised her, broad face and broad eyes that gave him a certain brutish appearance. Still, she remembered him, he had been one of Nathan’s friends throughout high school. A jock and a pretty decent football player, Brad had been the sort to follow rather than to lead, yet he had a hidden cruel side that only came out whenever Nathan had grown bored.

  To her surprise, Brad beamed up at her brightly. “Natalia!” he exclaimed, urging her closer and glaring at all the other people waiting in line. She recognized a few other faces and instantly wished she hadn’t brought attention to herself. Most of the people there had seen some of Nathan’s bored side and remembered her for how she just stood by, doing nothing.

  “It’s been years,” Brad insisted as Natalia approached. “You’ve grown taller!”

  “My last growth spurt since high school,” Natalia replied dryly. She was only wearing platforms but leave it to Brad not to notice. “You haven’t changed much yourself.”

  “I’ve been working as an engineer,” Brad announced, puffing his chest. “Nathan helped me get the job actually.” At the mention of her brother, Natalia perked up and met Brad’s gaze curiously.

  “You’ve seen Nathan?”

  “Yeah, I bumped into him about four years ago. He kind of helped me get out of my parent’s basement before allowing me to find a spot in the city. I haven’t seen him since, though.” Deflated, Natalia felt her shoulders slump slightly. Everything had hit the fan eight years ago…tensions that could no longer be tolerated in that small house exploded so thoroughly, that it resulted in all of them going their separate ways. Once upon a time, Natalia had been exceptionally close to her twin, practically playing along to the silly stereotype that all twins were halves of the same whole.

  Four years ago was around the same time he sort of just disappeared; since then, Natalia hasn’t really stopped searching. Brad helped her check in with the concierge, giving the woman a nasty look when she tried to make Natalia wait at the back of the line. Paying for the next few nights, Natalia received her room key and prepared to walk off.

  “Hold on,” Brad called with a wave. Natalia felt a touch of disdain when he jogged up to catch up to her. “Our rooms are pretty close together. I’ll walk you there.”

  Shrugging, Natalia tuned Brad out as he continued to speak about his life since he left Riverdale, focusing more on the path to her room and finding a good point in the conversation to brush him off. Eventually, they arrived at their rooms and when she began to slide her card into the slot, she noticed he was hovering.

  “Bye, Brad,” Natalia said, fixing him a certain glare that he had responded to well enough in the past. He didn’t leave, though. Brad gave her a soft smile, leaning against the door frame with a confidence she hadn’t expected.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to keep you company, Natalia?” Brad asked suggestively. “I’m actually rather good in bed.”

  Snorting with disgust and some surprise, Natalia slipped her door open. “No, thanks. Bye, Brad.”

  “Oh, come on, give me a chance!”

  She didn’t spare him another glance before she pushed inside her room, slamming the door right in his face with finality. Brad may have been a bumbling giant back in high school, and while he had been pretty happy to jump into crueler plans, he lacked nerve when he didn’t have someone to shove him around. Natalia wasn’t interested in filling the role Nathan had had back in high school.

  She remained holed up in her bedroom for a few hours, focusing on completing a few spreadsheets for work and ordering room service for dinner. She wasn’t interested in meeting up with anyone anytime soon. Of course, staying holed up in an unfamiliar space for any period of time was enough to make anyone claustrophobic. So, after changing her wardrobe and tying her long, dark hair into a low ponytail, Natalia snuck out of her room and headed out of the hotel. The last thing she needed was to bump into another familiar face, but she needed a drink.

  ****

  There was only one good watering hole in the town—a rickety pub named Arty’s that was well known to harbor the town’s unfavorable idiots and village drunkards. She was pret
ty sure whoever was there would be too drunk to notice her and so she made her way there. Of course, it took her some time to reach the damn place. Without a car--and the streets bare of taxis--Natalia was forced to follow the sidewalk with downcast eyes and an easy gait.

  It only took about fifteen minutes until she found herself staring up at that silly red neon sign over the pub. Natalia had spent a few evenings in this place’s parking lot, attempting to study in the back of her brother’s pick-up while they passed around beers, jeering at incoming pub-goers. She had better luck studying with Nathan nearby and had grown tired of staying around their house whenever their parents had an argument.

  She was such an apathetic person back then, and following this town’s doomed capacity to never change, Natalia seemed to be caught in the same loop. With a grunt, she headed inside the pub, grimacing at the stench of alcohol and foul body odor. Yep. Hasn’t changed a bit.

  As she approached the bar, she casually shrugged off the curious stares before taking a seat in one of the tall stools, tapping a finger against the top of the counter to wait for the bartender to show up. Sure enough, he appeared.

  “Great mother of God. If it isn’t Natalia Hyde, herself!” Natalia turned toward the voice and felt a small smile peek at the corner of her lips.

  “You’re still alive, old man?” she asked and the bartender let out a loud guffaw. Arty’s very own Arty Tibbleton; he had been the owner of the pub since Natalia had learned to walk and had been around more than her own father had. In a sense, Arty had taken a sort of paternal figure in Natalia’s life, offering more than enough advice to help her when she had been young. He was probably the only thing in her life that had remained a faithful constant, and it filled her with some contentment that he was still around and well. Arty was a large and buff man, with a large red beard he liked to keep bushy around his face. Having worked years carrying immense boxes of liquor, his body was strong and broad and his connection to her family had spared her a lot of unwanted advances by some of Nathan’s less honorable acquaintances.