by Eden Summers
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
Epilogue
About the Author
To all the blessings in my life. My husband that gives me a reason to write romance. My kids who test my mental stability but continuously make me smile. My friends who never, ever quit encouraging me. And the music that inspires the stories of the Reckless Beat men.
Thank you to all those who continue to support my writing. I hope you enjoy the Reckless Weekend ride.
“Relax, Allie. Let me take the stress away.”
Alana whimpered at Mitchell’s softly spoken words, and the brush of his lips against her naked collarbone. She wanted to melt into the deliciousness of his touch. To sink into his masculine scent and be thoroughly pleasured. It wouldn’t happen, though. The pressure of the wedding had wound her body tight. There was also the anxiety that came from her mother’s presence, the bachelorette party that brought them to Vegas, and the dreaded honeymoon. Their romantic trip away had become the bane of her existence.
“You’re so tense.” He spoke in a gravel-rich tone, while one calloused hand massaged her shoulder.
She let out a heavy breath. “I can’t help it.” Really, she couldn’t. She’d been riding the epinephrine train too long to disembark temporarily to relax.
He guided her to the bed, and she fell back onto the luxurious hotel mattress, allowing her fiancé to spread her knees and move between them. He leaned into her, his naked body still wet from the shower, his muscles glistening. Not a day went by that she wasn’t thankful for the changes he brought to her life.
“God, you smell good,” he purred, the rough stubble of his jaw grazing her inner thigh. He leaned on his elbows, the edge of his lips tilting in a wicked grin as his gaze found her heat. “I’ve been trying to get you alone all day.”
Alana sighed, wishing arousal would take hold. “I’m sorry, but I told you, I’ve got too much on my mind to enjoy this right now.”
He climbed higher, the warmth of his chest settling between her bare legs, the heat of his breath tickling her skin. “Sounds like a challenge.” He lowered his face, his lips hovering a whisper away from her sex. Tempting. Teasing. “You’ve done so much work for this wedding. Let me do a little something for you.” He pressed his mouth to her pussy, separating her folds with a gentle stroke of his tongue before retreating. “What do you think, Allie? Can I play for a little while? Maybe take the edge off.”
Her core clenched, sparking to life with tingles that spread all the way through her stomach, tightening her nipples.
“This isn’t going to be as challenging as I thought.” He chuckled, and swiped her slit with his tongue. His arms wrapped around her thighs, holding her tight as his mouth sank further, becoming more demanding with every brush of his lips.
She squirmed, searching for deeper penetration, more friction. Her fingers ran through his chin-length hair and held him close. That’s when her mind regained control, assailing her with questions she didn’t want to answer. How would Mitchell do his hair for the wedding? Did he plan to get it styled? Cut? Would he shave? Did he realize the wedding photos would be displayed in magazines, on the television, and all over the Internet?
“I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?” He placed a gentle kiss on her mound.
She whimpered. This was so unfair. She had the most gorgeous rock star between her thighs, his sole focus on her pleasure, and still she couldn’t concentrate.
Two fingers teased her entrance, nudging, regaining her attention. She shuddered with her body’s need for more, and moaned when his mouth lowered to her clit, sucking, making it throb.
“That feels good,” she panted, releasing his hair. She skimmed her hands over her stomach, cupping her breasts and tweaking her now aching nipples.
His fingers slid deeper, twisting, pulsing, building her arousal until her thoughts were consumed with her impending climax. She needed this release. She needed the short moment of earth shattering bliss to get her through the coming days. Most of all, she needed him. Mitchell always soothed her.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered. The hardness of his body comforted her, lessening the harsh doubts and worries that assailed her. In these moments, when the two of them were caught in the web of lust and passion, nothing else mattered. It was the only thing that cleared her mind, yet she’d been too anxious lately to bother trying.
Mitchell rose, resting his weight on his hands, penetrating her with his hazel stare. “Do I have your full attention?” He leaned down to lick a trail along her stomach, stopping when he reached her nipple. He sucked the hardened flesh into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, before releasing it with a pop. “Have you stopped thinking enough for me to enjoy this pretty little body of yours?”
She nodded, and rose to her elbows, making him retreat onto his haunches. “I want to touch you.”
He growled, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her forward for a deep kiss. Their tongues stroked, the slight taste of her own pleasure entering her mouth. She ran her hands down his body, from his shoulders, over the taut muscles of his stomach, to grip his thick erection.
“Stroke me,” he begged against her lips. “Hard.”
Nothing was more empowering than having Mitchell at her mercy. But instead of complying, she moved onto all fours, and rested her lips against the head of his cock. His hands tangled in her loose hair, and he moaned as she licked the pre-cum beading his slit.
He tugged at her hair, pulling her forward, encouraging her to take him deeper. “Christ, Allie, you make me so fuckin’ hard.”
She rested a hand against his thigh for stability, and opened her lips wider, sucking him into her mouth. Her tongue worked around his cock head, down the ridge, while she savored the scent of soap and man. When her free hand brushed the tightness of his sac, he jerked forward, the involuntary movement making her smile.
“Please, baby. Please, let me fuck your mouth.”
She responded by loosening her suction and sliding her lips down to the base of his shaft, delighting in the guttural moan that followed.
He thrust into her with short, sharp jolts. “Look at me.” He cupped her cheeks, and she stared up at his glazed eyes. “You’re a dream, you know that? A beautiful, sexy, entirely perfect dream. I can’t wait until you’re mine forever.”
Alana winced at the wedding reminder and broke eye contact, not wanting to hinder his bliss. There was too much to organize in so little time—the finishing touches to the seating plan, organizing the out-of-town guests with airport transfers, and then there was the honeymoon. The damn vacation was sending her on a quick slide into a nervous breakdown.
“Hey.” His hands circled her neck, demanding her attention, making her shiver from his dominance. “Come back to me.” He fell from her mouth and encouraged her to straighten, bringing them chest to chest. His arm curled around her waist as he sat back on his haunches and dragged her body with him.
She straddled his lap and stared into his eyes, wishing he would take her stress away. The wedding had to be perfect. The world would be judging him—them—and creating a fairytale day was the one thing she
could give him for everything he’d ever done for her. He’d shown her a life outside of her sheltered upbringing. He’d created a job that enabled them to be together. He’d paid for a wedding fit for a queen, not once bothering to worry about the expense.
In return, she gave her love in spades, only it didn’t seem enough. She wanted to give him one special day that would show the world how much they meant to each other. She needed to convince his fans she was worthy. And maybe, deep down, she still needed to prove it to herself, too.
The head of his shaft nudged her entrance, sliding through her slick arousal, breaking her train of thought. He surged forward, penetrating her in one hard thrust, tearing a scream of delight from her throat.
“That’s my girl,” he cooed, leaning in to nip the side of her jaw with his teeth.
She arched her back, grinding her pelvis against him, searching for friction against her clit. His mouth moved lower, finding her breast, licking, sucking, making her body hotter, her mind blank.
“Faster,” she pleaded.
The bed squeaked with his next thrust, and they moaned in unison. She straightened, taking his lips with force, her tongue brushing his. They battled with their mouths, their bodies, and hands. Her fingers scoured his back, and he let out a hiss that temporarily broke the kiss, before slamming his lips back down on hers with more ferocity.
It felt good to drift away, to ignore the world, the future, and her never-ending to-do list, and simply enjoy. Her body vibrated, her blood boiled, and with each forceful thrust of his hips, it made her more determined to forget her troubles.
“I’m gonna make you come so hard, Allie,” he growled into her mouth, their noses bumping with each upward slam of his pelvis.
She already knew he would. He always did. Yet, the promise still sent a heated shiver of anticipation through her body. He placed his pointer finger against her lips, sliding it inside to press against her tongue. Unsure what he wanted, she sucked, licking the taste of herself from his digit, until he removed it from her mouth.
His gaze narrowed, watching her with intent as he lowered his arm, gliding it around her waist, over her bottom, to tease her crack.
She shook her head at the implication, and clutched his hair to reiterate. He liked to torment her ass, to brush his fingers over the sensitive area and make her shiver. The wickedness thrilled her, but he never went any further. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to.
“Relax.”
Her rampant heart did the opposite, kicking up a notch as he placed pressure on her puckered hole. “Mitchell,” her voice was caught between a warning and a plea.
“Let me play for a while.”
His actions changed from heated, hot and sweaty, to soft and sweet and slow. His thrusts became smooth and languorous, while his free arm held her tight around the waist. She moved against him, concentrating on the slide of his cock instead of worrying about the position of his hand. Resting her head against his shoulder, she nuzzled butterfly kisses against his neck, wishing she could read his dirty thoughts.
“Trust me?” he murmured against her ear, firmly circling his finger around her virgin entrance.
She shook her head. “Not when your hand is there.”
He chuckled, nibbling her earlobe. “You’ll like it.”
“I lack your confidence.”
He added more pressure, looming at the brink of penetration. Shame heated her cheeks at the way her pussy clamped down in needy response. Her lascivious body might have been eager to play a new game, only her mind hadn’t reached that level.
“Relax against my hand.”
Her spine stiffened, her muscles pulling tight. He chuckled again, long and low against her ear. He continued to sink between her thighs, building the pleasure in her core until she was grinding with force, enjoying the friction of his chest against her breasts, and relaxing into his touch.
“That’s it,” he murmured, nipping her neck, licking her collarbone.
His finger breached the tight band of muscle, and she gasped at the sensation. There was no pain, no discomfort, only a delicious pressure that made the warmth in her pussy increase.
“Fuck, Allie. You’re so damn hot.”
The thrust of his cock increased as his finger sank deeper. Delirious rapture took over. Her hips rocked, harder, faster, and she clung to him, closing her eyes as her orgasm built to the point of no return.
“I’m… I’m…” She whimpered, wanting to prolong the bliss a moment longer, even though she had no control.
Mitchell groaned in her ear, pumping with harsh strokes, ramming into her. His hair brushed her cheeks with each undulation, while one hand rested against the crack of her butt and the other wove around her back, holding the base of her neck, keeping them chest to chest.
More pressure heated her ass, while he slid another finger inside her. This time he stretched her, his movements bringing a bite of pain that added to her enjoyment. Her pussy and ass were now both deliciously full. Damn him, she was done for. Her body took over—her back arched as her walls clamped down on his cock, convulsing in wave after wave of climax. Her focus blurred and she closed her eyes, letting bliss consume her.
His demands heightened with hard, demanding thrusts, and then his groan filled the room. As he slowed, the pulse of her core faded, and she collapsed against him, falling into the heaving rise and fall of his chest. Sated and exhausted, she struggled to re-open her tired eyes, her limbs now lethargic.
“You should take a nap,” Mitchell whispered into her hair, his softening cock leaving her body.
“I can’t. The bachelorette party starts in little over an hour.”
He leaned into her, resting her back against the mattress, and removed his fingers from her ass. She was wet between her thighs, and the tingling sensation from where his hand had just been made her cheeks heat. Sex between them was never dull. Mitchell had wanted her to experience everything life had to offer, and he’d concentrated most on the pleasures between the sheets. But anal had never been on the list. She only hoped it wouldn’t create awkwardness between them—especially this close to the wedding.
Oh, who was she kidding? Mitchell would always be confident and unapologetic no matter how dirty the deed. She was the one who still gripped a little too tightly to her inexperience.
He rolled off the bed and leaned down for a quick kiss. “One day that’ll be my cock fuckin’ your ass.” The corner of his lips twitched. “And I’ll tell you now, sweetheart, you’re gonna love it.”
She bit her lip, trying to act unaffected by the wink he gave her before he strode to the bathroom. He was the devil. Only, his touch felt like heaven instead of hell. Scooting under the covers, she glanced at the bedside clock. If she rested her eyes for twenty minutes, she’d still have time to get ready for the bachelorette party.
“Have a quick nap.” Mitchell sauntered back into the room and climbed onto the bed to snuggle behind her. “That way you’ll have more energy to party tonight.”
“More energy to beat you at the honeymoon challenge you mean?”
He hovered over her, placing a kiss on her shoulder. “Yeah, gorgeous. You’ll need all the rest you can get with what I have planned.”
She ignored the taunt and closed her eyes, resting into the warmth of his chest against her back. “Will you wake me in a little while?”
He brushed his lips against her hair, draping an arm over her waist. “Sure, sweetheart. Just relax and get some sleep.”
Alana awoke with a start.
“Oh, shit.” Mitchell pushed to a seated position, jolting the mattress. “I fell asleep.”
“What?” Alana rubbed the lethargy from her eyes and stretched.
He yanked the sheets back and bounced from the bed. “Sweetheart, the guys are already knocking at the door. We slept for over an hour.”
She shook her head, her heart changing from the relaxing pace of sleep back into the panicked pulse which had overtaken her for weeks. “No.” She glanced
at the bedside clock and let out a defeated cry.
Damn it! She jumped from the bed and raced to the bathroom. A five second shower was all she took to clean the evidence of their lovemaking from her body. Then she was out again, running naked into the bedroom to grab her clothes.
“Lookin’ good, Al,” Mason said from the living room.
She screamed, fumbling over her feet in a hurry to slam the door. Jerk!
Why the hell had Mitchell left the room open? She didn’t need this angst. Tonight was meant to be relaxing. Well, as relaxing as the challenge to win the choice of her honeymoon destination could be.
Weeks ago, her frustratingly gorgeous fiancé had increased her stress by announcing he wanted to go on a deserted island adventure holiday. The “deserted island” sounded fantastic. The “adventure” part, not so much. The travel website pictured a weather-beaten shack on a white sandy beach, and explained that guests would live the “unique experience of finding food and water on their own.”
Not likely.
Every descriptive word the company had boasted made her question Mitchell’s sanity. He wasn’t the outdoorsy type, and even though he was paying for the majority of the honeymoon, she refused to believe overcoming dehydration and starvation should ever be on any honeymooner’s to-do list.
When she’d rallied against the proposal, holding back her claims of his idiocy, he’d smirked, asking her to make a better suggestion. She had. But apparently a luxurious villa in the Maldives wasn’t his idea for a perfect honeymoon.
To settle the disagreement, he’d come up with the bachelorette/bachelor party challenge—yet another anxiety filled event she didn’t need. Both parties had a list of tasks created by the other group, which needed to be completed within a certain time frame. Whoever finished first would be the victor and get the final say on the honeymoon location.
Snatching her underwear from her suitcase, and the thigh-high, silver shimmer dress from the closet, she yanked them on in record time. Then she raced back to the bathroom to apply make-up at super speed.
“Sorry, I should’ve closed the door.” Mitchell’s voice startled her. He came to rest against the doorframe, a white towel fastened around his lean waist. “Babe, you need to relax. Tonight is meant to be fun.”
