Velocity (A Dangerous Bad Boy Romance)

by Nikki Wild

  Finally, I handed my boarding pass to the attendant. She looked at it and handed it back to me with a smile.

  “Enjoy your flight,” she said. I resisted the urge to scoff at her and took a deep breath, walking away.

  I’d taken three steps when I heard someone call my name.

  Chapter 30

  I turned to see Bear running towards me.

  “Fuck!” I muttered, shaking my head.

  “Chloe!” he yelled. “Stop! Please!”

  He rushed towards me, ignoring the attendant and closing the distance between us. He looked disheveled, his deep blue eyes filled with sadness and confusion.

  He looks like I feel, I thought.

  “Chloe, what are you doing?” he asked, staring down at me.

  “I’m going home, Bear. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just couldn’t.”

  “Why are you doing this? This is your home now.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head, my heart breaking. “It’s not.”

  “Chloe,” he pleaded. “Let’s talk. Just give me five minutes.”

  I sighed and nodded.

  “Okay, but I can’t miss my flight,” I said, moving away from the entrance and walking with him over to the window. The jet loomed, waiting to take me home.

  “Chloe, I was a complete and utter asshole last night, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have had so much to drink and I should have been gentler with you. It’s all my fault. I got carried away celebrating.”

  “It’s not that,” I said, even though it was a little bit. But people were watching us and the last thing I wanted to do was talk about him taking my ass in public.

  “What is it, then?” he asked.

  “It’s everything else, Bear. I don’t know how to do that job you want me to do. I’m clueless. And I just don’t understand what’s happening. Between us. With us. None of this makes sense.”

  “Don’t you see?” he said, his voice gentle and soft. “This thing between us makes perfect sense.”

  “How is that?” I asked. “Look, Bear, I’m not whatever you think I am. You can find someone else to fulfill those needs. You’d be better off with a woman like Zoe. Someone who fits your lifestyle.”

  “Zoe?” he scoffed. “She’s a fragile fucking butterfly that I hate being around.”

  “Well, whomever…” I said, my voice trailing off.

  “Chloe, listen to me. Look at me!” he said. My eyes darted up, hypnotized by his piercing glare. “I thought I made myself clear the other day, but maybe not. I have never in my life met a woman like you. You’re special, don’t you see? I’ve tried being with other people, I’ve tried to make it work with other women, trust me. But it’s never been right. Not like this. Not till you, Chloe.”

  “Bear, I don’t—,” I began.

  “—let me finish, babe, please? When I met you that first time, I knew. I knew because something opened up in me, something about you ripped me wide open and crawled inside of me and never let go. It was like I’d been waiting for you my whole life. And then, when I saw you again, when we made love that first time —,”

  “—that was not making love!” I protested.

  “To me it was! To me, it was the beginning of everything that ever mattered. It was the confirmation that I was right all along. When I felt you around me, when I felt the perfection of our bodies fitting together like they were made from the same cloth, I knew, deep down, that you were the one.”

  “The one for what, though, Bear? What do you want with me? What is all of this even about?” I cried.

  “That’s a good question,” he whispered, reaching into his coat and pulling out two small white boxes with shiny red ribbons. “I want to show you what my intentions are, Chloe. These are for you.”

  “What are they?” I asked. “The last time you gave me a present like this…”

  “It’s nothing like that. One is dependent on the other,” he said, holding out one of the boxes to me. “Open this one first.”

  I sighed, shaking my head.

  “Bear,” I said. “I need to go.”

  “Just open them! Please! If you decide to leave afterwards, I’ll kindly see you to the door of the plane myself.”

  “Fine,” I said, my shaking hands taking the box from him. I pulled the end of the ribbon, untying the bow and letting it fall to the floor at my feet. Slowly, I opened the box and gasped when I saw the glittering diamond ring shining up at me.

  “Bear!” I cried, my hand flying to my pounding heart. “Bear, this is too much—,” I said, shaking my head.

  He held the other box out to me, his eyes shining with love.

  “Now open this one.”

  I opened the box quickly and pulled out a black velvet, diamond-studded choker.

  “Chloe,” he said, taking my hand, “I love you. I love you like the moon loves the stars. I’d be lost in this world without you by my side. I know this is confusing, I know it’s all new and scary, but I promise you I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life, I’ll take you places you’ve never imagined. Yes, I have my issues, but I think our issues fit together perfectly. We’re like opposite sides of the same coin, can’t you see that? Being with you is like poetry, baby. We fit. Everything about us fits. Like the words strung together in a poem, as if they were made for each other. You’re my poem, Chloe. You were meant for me, don’t you see that? Opportunities like this, connections like ours, they only happen once in a lifetime, babe. We can’t pass this up, we owe it to ourselves to give in to this love, to this life together. We’d be fools not to try.”

  I gasped, my head spinning, my heart racing as his eyes searched mine.

  “But I need more from you, Chloe,” he reached up, caressing my face. “You have to accept both sides of me, just as I have to accept both sides of you. I need you to be mine. I want you to wear my ring, but I want you to wear this, too,” he said, brushing his fingers against the choker in my hand. “Do you understand, Chloe? I need you to be mine, in every way, forever and ever.”

  He sank to his knees, the ring between his fingers as he held it up to me.

  “I love you. Please be my wife, Beauty,” he pleaded.

  I stared down at him, lost in his deep ocean eyes, lost in his enchanting words, lost in the simple fact that he’d told me he loved me.

  My heart swelled with joy, with love, great waves of pleasure spilling out of my swollen heart. I couldn’t think, all I could do was feel.

  Maybe none of this made sense, but whatever it was, it was definitely love.

  “Yes,” I nodded slowly, tears falling down my face as he slipped the ring on my finger. He stood up, kissing me gently and then pulling away. He took the choker from my hands and placed it on my neck, fastening the buckle in the back, his fingers brushing against my skin and sending shivers down my spine.

  “Look at you,” he whispered, staring at me with eyes full of pride and love. “Who are you?”

  A slow smile spread across my face, the velvet clinging tightly around my neck, the ring heavy on my hand, as my heart swelled with pride and pure happiness.

  “I’m yours, Bear. I’m yours,” I whispered through my tears.

  His kiss was a thousand kisses, his love a thousand loves, and as we walked out of the airport arm in arm, I knew that our life together would be a thousand poems, worth a thousand heavens, in a thousand star-filled universes.

  Chapter 31

  Max drove us back to my apartment. We couldn’t keep our hands or lips off of one another the entire drive and by the time we made it into the elevator, we were ready to rip each other’s clothes off.

  “I can’t believe we’re going to get married!” I said, laughing between kisses. “My mother is going to have a heart attack!”

  “You let me deal with Matilda,” he said, his tongue sliding along the skin of my neck. I shuddered against him, my body on fire with desire for him.

  “Good luck with that,” I muttered, my lips finding his again. He kissed me deep
ly, his tongue tangling with mine, searching for the magic we’d found together. The craziness of the entire situation was not lost on me, but at the moment, I didn’t give a damn.

  Everything Bear had said in the airport was true. Somehow, we fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and that was what I wanted to embrace.

  I made a silent vow to reject the fear and doubts that had plagued me. I had plenty of help with the design job, I had plenty of time to do it and I was smart. As for the fear surrounding my relationship with Bear, well—I had Bear. That’s all that mattered.

  I made another vow to stay close to him, to communicate when I was feeling weird, to ask him questions if I needed to.

  He loved me.

  I’d never been so happy in my entire life.

  Bear Dalton loved me and wanted to make me his wife. This beautiful, complex, masculine masterpiece of a human being wanted me by his side for the rest of his life.

  I snaked my hands around his neck, pulling him closer while I kissed him, relishing the feel of his body against mine. The elevator dinged and we tumbled out into the hallway like a couple of horny teenagers.

  He pushed me up against the wall of the hallway, his mouth searching mine, his hands running over my breasts as he pushed a thigh between my legs. I moaned against him, melting into the heat of his touch.

  “Let’s go inside,” I said, pulling my mouth away and reaching down to grab a handful of his throbbing hardness. “I can’t wait any longer!”

  We turned together, our fingers laced together, the ring heavy and shiny on my finger.

  We’d taken five steps when I saw him.

  Standing at my doorway at the end of the hall, his face full of jealous anger and rage.

  “Harlan!” I screamed in shock, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I thought it would burst. I felt Bear tense beside me.

  “What are you doing here, Harlan?”

  “Hello, Chloe,” Harlan said, his voice seething. “I’ve come to take you back.”

  Before I could say a word, Bear stepped between us.

  “Chloe’s mine now,” he growled. “You need to leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Harlan scowled, reaching into his coat.

  He pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at us.

  I’ve got more surprises in store. Turn the page!

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  -nikki

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  Other Novels by Nikki Wild

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  Knockout (A Bad Boy MMA Romance)

  Bad Boy Bikers:

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  Saved by the Bad Boy (A Devil’s Dragons Biker Romance)

  Pride and Pregnancy (A Devil’s Dragons Motorcycle Club Romance)

  Roughneck (A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance)

  Rough Rider (Outlaw Kings Motorcycle Club)

  British Bad Boys:

  Royal Prick (A Bad Boy British Romance)

  Arrogant Brit (A Bad Boy British Sports Romance)

  Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)

  Played (A Bad Boy British Romance)

  Bad Boy Rockstars:

  Illicit Behavior (A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance)

  Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)

  Bad Boy Stepbrothers:

  Lust (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)

  Richard (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)

  Bad Boy Billionaires:

  Protect And Serve (A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance)

  Pretend Married (A Sexy Billionaire Romance)

  Taking Beauty (Taking Beauty Series Book 1)

  Claiming Beauty (Taking Beauty Series Book 2)

  Owning Beauty (Taking Beauty Series Book 3)

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  Prologue

  “Tristan… oh, my God. If we’re caught…”

  Gwendolyn Pierce was staring up at me with her wide, soulful eyes and her pretty pink lips all agape, her heart beating so hard if I listened closely, I swore I could hear it. I was close enough to feel it, too, pounding through the thin fabric of her camisole, making her pert nipples quiver against my chest.

  I’d caught her in her nightclothes, a modest ensemble of flannel pajama pants and a lacy top with no bra underneath. The latter clung to her small frame, the full, tender globes of her breasts outlined in delicious shadow.

  I slid my fingers up along her ribs, returning her gaze, the bare skin of my chest grazing her trembling arms. “Nobody needs to know, Gwennie. It’s just you and me.”

  Gwen took in a sharp breath, and for a moment, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, but trailed off when I began inching her cami up her stomach, revealing more of her pale skin than was appropriate, given who we were to one another.

  Gwendolyn was my stepsister. And I was her stepbrother, and heir to a duchy. We were both hot and barely past eighteen and pumped full of hormones. We were dangerous. A scandal waiting to happen.

  And I wanted it to happen. I was sure Gwennie did, too. No matter how hard she’d dug her heels in about adapting to British culture—something her mother had insisted upon, accent and all—my stepsister couldn’t shake that rebellious nature of hers. She wasn’t meant for the aristocracy. Then again, neither was I.

  “We can’t,” she breathed. God, I could taste her on my lips. She tasted like desire, betraying her words, which came out almost like a squeak. It made my cock hard to no end. She was such a little mouse, but I got the feeling she would turn into a wildcat in bed, once somebody popped that sweet cherry of hers.

  Somebody who would, hopefully, be me.

  “We can,” I insisted. “See?” And I ever-so-lightly brushed the pad of my thumb over one of her nipples.

  “God!” she hissed a little too loudly, and I leaned down to cover her mouth with my own, to stifle the seductive sounds dripping from her mouth. Gwendolyn turned her f
ace away at the last second, panting hard as I teased the nub of puffy, sensitive flesh beneath the fabric of her shirt.

  “Let me do this for you,” I whispered in her ear. Her back arched, forcing her hips against my hard-on. “I want you so badly, Gwennie. And I know you want me.” I took one of her hands and placed it on my cock; in response, it lurched toward her, desperate for more contact, so full of want and need that it physically hurt. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

  “Tristan,” Gwendolyn said, her doe-like eyes somehow growing even wider. “You’re… pierced? Down there?” She touched the surgical steel embedded in the head of my cock.

  “Do you want to see it?” I asked her, shivering as she stroked it. Oh, God, I wanted her to keep going, and to never stop.

  “I…” She looked up at me through her lashes, her gaze so curious, so full of wonder. “Um…”

  “Come on, Gwennie. Live a little.”

  “I can’t,” she said, pushing me away by my chest. My dick slipped from her hand and I groaned. “Not like this, Tristan. Not… here. When you’re only doing it to make your father… our father… mad.”

  I leaned against the pantry shelves and rubbed my face, trying to scrub away the frustration boiling in my nuts. When I looked at Gwen again, there was such sadness on her face. I thought that, even in the darkness, I could see the glint of tears in her eyes.

  I realized then that, for her, this was so much more than youthful desires. I realized that she might even have feelings for me—genuine feelings, ones that transcended a mere compulsion to be naughty. For me, this was just a passing interest, one of many I’d had since I realized girls didn’t actually have cooties—well, most of them, anyway.