Bad: Six Sexy Gents Unmasked

by Elle Brace

  While I was in a room where there were decent clothes to change into, I was trying to fix a tie when the lady came back telling me Kami was having a panic attack about getting married.

  I took the tie off and walked to the room to see Kami looking down at her hand with her shoulders hanging loose. “What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping closer and kneeling down next to her.

  “This is wrong. We can’t get married,” she said, still looking down not making eye contact with me. “There has to be a different way to keep my step-father away.”

  “There’s always going to the cops like I suggested before,” I said, knowing that was the most reasonable solution to this problem. “Look, I get it you’re nervous, but I promise to protect you. I don’t want to have to worry about you being in danger and being beaten. Try not to think of it as getting married, but more like having a safe haven to keep you out of danger.” I could see the tears running down her face. How could I put this idea in a different light, in a way that would help clear her mind of any worries about being married to me? “Now please, let’s walk down that aisle and say some silly vows then we will try to figure the rest of this out later.”

  She agreed after that and I went back to the room to fix the tie again. When I was done, I was left waiting at the end of the altar for a while to the point I was starting to think that Kami ran out on me without anyone knowing, but was told that the lady from the front desk was helping her fix her make-up and hair.

  I was talking to the man who was going to marry us, when I heard the wedding march. I turned toward the doors just in time to see the lady handing Kami a bundle of white lilies. I was stunned to see her walk down the aisle to me with cream white dress that covered her chest area with little sleeves that covered the bruises on her upper arm. Her blond hair lay in waves with one side covering her face that had the bruise but it wasn’t visible because of her the make-up.

  When she finally got to me, the lady took the flowers away and I grabbed Kami’s hands, telling her everything’s going to be fine in my effort to reassure her. As the man spoke about the meaning of marriage and how it was a huge commitment, I noticed Kami wasn’t paying much attention as she looked around the empty room. There wasn’t anyone I wanted here and from what I saw today, she didn’t have any friends, so I didn’t see the need to call anyone while I waited for her to get ready.

  When the man asked Kami if she would take me as her husband, she didn’t answer at first till I got her attention and it seemed to embarrass her that she missed a question. When she was asked a again, she seemed to take a moment as she looked at me and I gave her a gentle smile, showing her that I was doing this to keep her safe. Then she looked back at the empty room again before answering, “Yes, I do.”

  “Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the minister said, shutting his book and making Kami jump.

  When I leaned down, Kami had the deer-in-the-headlights look before turning her head a tiny bit as my lips landed on her cheek, which just made me laugh knowing just how innocent my new wife was.

  “Oh, she’s a shy one,” I heard the minister say and he patted my shoulder. “You take care of her, son.”

  “I plan to, sir,” I said, taking Kami’s hands and walking out of the room back to the lobby area. I started teasing her a little in the lobby about the kiss which made her more uneasy and started looking back down away from me. This wasn’t the girl I wanted her to be. Even though I promised to protect her, I hoped that through this marriage I could bring back the girl she was when we were kids and show her that the world around her was bright and worth being a part of.

  I brought my fingers up under her chin to look into her blue eyes that seemed to be watering now. “Kami, there’s no reason to look down at the floor when I ask you something, okay?” I watched her nod her head in understanding as I wrapped my other hand into her hair. “You look lovely by the way. At first, it took me a moment to notice it was you.” As I spoke, I let go of her chin but placed my arm around her waist. “When I finally did notice it was you, I could see your true beauty and not the girl who hides away from everyone. That’s the girl I want to see from now on. No more hiding.”

  “That might take some time, Brandon. I’ve been used to being invisible to those around me,” she spoke in a shaky voice. “I can’t just change overnight.”

  “I know, but at least try. I promise to keep you safe, but I need you not to hide from me and try to let me in when something is bothering you.”

  When we walked out of the church with me holding Kami’s hand, I looked up at the painted sunset going down under the trees, thinking how peaceful this all felt with the rollercoaster of a day we had. None of us knew the whirlwind of danger that was soon to come our way.

  Make sure to read the whole story when you buy Married to the Bad Boy available on Amazon!

  Sign up for the author’s blog for MORE freebies and updates!

  letty-scott.awesomeauthors.org

  About the Author

  Letty Scott is a single mother of two from Texas. She enjoyed writing ever since she was nine years old. Even though she was diagnosed with having a

  dyslexia problem she still writes to let those around her see that even if your grammar is not all that great, as long as you have a good storyline most people won’t mind. At least this is what she as learn from the website Wattpad where she has actively been writing on for the past few years.

  If you want to send her a message or two, feel free to email her here:

  letty_scott@awesomeauthors.org

  Or contact her through her Facebook page!

  bitly.com/fblettyscott

  And sign up for her blog for more freebies here:

  letty-scott.awesomeauthors.org

  Nightmares and Memories

  (A Psycho Sitter Bonus Book)

  The Prologue

  By: Alexandria Ayers

  ©AlexandriaAyers2015

  Hunter

  There she is, dressed in a black gown that reaches the floor, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She knows I’m staring, and I notice the tint of her cheeks get a shade darker.

  As she approaches me, I think of all the things that I can complement her on. Maybe her hair? Possibly the way the dark gown clings tightly around her waist? Or maybe just her smile? The way she can light up a room with a small gesture? She’s truly beautiful.

  The young, compelling girl is now only feet away from me, but somehow she’s not looking my way. Her attention is caught by someone else. I turn around to see who has caught my beauty’s eye, and I’m stunned to see him, his dark hair pushed up, his naturally tanned skin, and the way his jaw is set so tight. It makes anger boil inside of me. I turn back to her only to see her waving lightly at the man. I wish to be dead.

  She starts to walk towards him as he does the same. I reach out to grab her hand, to warn her of his bad intentions; but my touch does nothing, she doesn’t even flinch. I try again, but fail. I start to panic as he grabs her by the waist and whispers in her ear, something I can’t quite make out. Seconds later they start to dance. He was spinning her around and her laughter fills the room. Men glance over their partner’s shoulders just to see where the sweet noise is coming from. If only they know she is rightfully mine.

  I stand back and watch how they dance like they have known each other for years. I watch as men drool over their wife’s shoulders at just the flick of her hair. I take a seat far off in the corner, jealously boiling inside, as he starts to kiss her neck, moving his hands down below her waist. My hands go into fists when I notice the playful smile she sends as she swats his hands away.

  I start tapping my fingertips against the wooden table that stands beside me after watching them for minutes, practically drooling myself. I get up and leave, heading straight for the door that leads to the outside balcony. I start telling myself how stupid I am for thinking she would remember me. It’s like I’m invisible to her, like we’re separated by a force
field or something.

  I pace back and forth in the balcony, probably burning a hole in the floor, but honestly I can care less if this whole place just burn down. My thoughts are interrupted by a door opening behind me. I turn to see who it is, and my fists cease as I see her black gown moving towards me. Maybe she can see me, maybe she has come back. I don’t notice until she gets closer that she’s on the phone, her voice like a sweet melody to my ears.

  “He wants me to come back to his apartment, but I’m not for sure if that’s a good idea,” she speaks on the phone. I want to yell to her that it’s not a good idea, but clearly she can’t see me.

  “Well of course he’s hot! Why would I even be asking if he wasn’t?” I try to grab the phone from her, but my hand goes straight through.

  “So I should?” she asks the person on the other line.

  “No! That’s a terrible idea,” I scream, no longer caring if she can hear me or not.

  “Okay, well, I’ll text you tomorrow and tell you how it went!” She hangs up and leaves the balcony.

  “No,” I whisper, even though she’s gone.

  * * *

  I jolt up in bed, sweat dripping from my forehead. “It was just a dream," I tell myself, as the dream already starts replaying in my head.

  I get up and head to the bathroom across the room and wash my face, hoping to forget the dream. I take a cold shower when splashing water on my face does nothing. I dry off, and once I’m done, I head for the kitchen, a towel wrapped around my waist. I make a quick breakfast, toast and eggs, before sitting down. I check my emails on my phone, noticing one from Phil. The email reads: Pack your bag, you’re going to America.

  Along with the email is a file, filled with information about a young girl named Emily Miller, a picture attached. She's, hot I must say, but she looks a lot like one of my old girlfriends. I shake my head and start packing my bags, hoping to catch the next flight out of here by tomorrow morning.

  * * *

  “Lane, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” I say, annoyed. I’ve been pacing the airport for thirty minutes trying to find him. He always helps me on these little trips. After I’ve gone to the girl’s house and picked them up, he’s the one that makes sure we get back to London safe and with no trouble.

  “Sorry, man. I was tied up with... someone.” He winks and I get what he’s hinting about.

  “Alright, whatever, let’s go.” We board the plane with no trouble before taking off. I relax back in my seat, hoping to sleep through this flight.

  * * *

  Lights flash as the music blares, slowly starting to give me a headache. I come out of the office, hoping to find my mother and tell her I’m not feeling well, but now that I’m actually out here with all these women dressed in little to no clothes. I start to regret it badly.

  I hear men call out to the women, urging them to offer them some sort of pleasure. Of course in this kind of place the ladies gladly do it and with no hesitation, either.

  I start making my way through the growing crowd, simply trying to spot my mother. My young eyes land on a beauty dressed very sparingly. Skin shows on almost every inch of her body. I walk up to her and ask, “Can you help me find my mom?”

  She looks down and smiles, saying, “What is a young boy like you doing here?” I think about it, knowing the answer, but not knowing if my mother would want me telling it.

  “My mother works here. I have nowhere else to go.” That’s the truth, my mother does work at such a place. The girl looks around before grabbing my hand and slowly leading me through the crowd. My eyes wander all over the half-naked bodies that scatter the floor, some of which give me dirty looks, probably wondering why a young boy like me is in a place like this.

  “Is that her?” The pretty blonde who helped lead me here asks. My eyes catch the woman on stage as she dances for the men throwing money at her. The crowd cheers and the lady dances on.

  And at that point I know what I want to do in life.

  * * *

  I wake up, the memory from my childhood starting to replay over and over in my head. That is the reason why I do what I do.

  Make sure to read the whole story when you buy Psycho Sitter available on Amazon!

  Sign up for the author’s blog for MORE freebies and updates!

  alexayers.org

  About the Author

  Alexandria is a young teenage girl from a small town in Kentucky, who aspires to be a professional writer. Someday she hopes to have her own bookstore. Her first attempt at writing was on Wattpad, a free site for budding writers. Her book, "Psycho Sitter," received approximately 6 million reads at completion. Alex enjoys writing and reading fan fiction, as well as, listening to music, where she gets a lot of inspiration for her stories.

  If you want to send her a message or two, feel free to email her here:

  alex@alexayers.org

  Or contact her through her Facebook page!

  bitly.com/fbalexayers

  And sign up for her blog for more freebies here:

  alexayers.org

  Andrei

  (Different POV)

  How To Kill An Incubus

  By: Kimber Lee

  ©KimberLee2015

  ANDREI

  To fuck a human to death is to lose control.

  To lose one’s mind.

  To lose oneself.

  I never lose control. Ever. Yet here I was, lying naked in the penthouse suite of the hotel I own beside the still-warm body of the woman who had moments ago been my sustenance. She had been a good fuck. Her aura the crimson color of lust and sin and all things unclean. Easy to seduce into my bed, easy to steal away what little of her life force remained in order to satisfy my hunger. The curvy redhead would have been dead within the year, a slave to the addictive proclivities that made humans so feeble and inadequate. Her addiction had been my addiction – sex – and now she was dead because of it.

  My eyes wandered over her naked body, to the apex between her legs from which my seed was still leaking. I absent-mindedly moved my fingers to her face, closing her eyelids. I could not wipe the blissful look off her face but I could, at least, shut the doors to her wide, vacant brown eyes.

  Her soul was eternally damned, lost in the dark abyss of sinners – and for what? The best sex of her life?

  Humans.

  “Did you enjoy that, my lord?”

  The voice came from the opposite end of the room. A figure, cloaked in what I can only assume was designer couture, stepped out of nowhere. Much like me, Selene Delacroix preferred her women feisty, with mouths that can lick and suck and tease like they were meant to. For millennia, she had been by my side -- the perfect right-hand woman, the perfect confidante.

  I decided not to answer her question. What could I say to that? Because as far I was concerned, I didn’t enjoy it. When was the last time I’d enjoyed something? Truly enjoyed something?

  I sounded like a fucking mortal woman, whining pathetically about a woeful life, but hell, when you’ve been around since the dawn of time, fucking and debauchery became a little monotonous.

  Fuck. Feed. Bargain for a soul. Fuck. Feed. Bargain. It became too easy after a while.

  This woman had wanted sex, plain and simple. She hadn’t wanted to sell her soul to me for a better body, for a chance at immortality. Even if she had wanted that, I didn’t give her a chance. I’d lost control. I’d loved it.

  “Clean this up, will you?” I told Selene, because that was all I could say.

  Rolling off the bed, I got to my feet and rubbed the back of my neck, sparing the redhead one final glance. I felt no guilt; I never did. No, what I felt was a sense of apathy for my entire existence. In all the realms I’d been to, this world was the least stimulating. It was necessary for me to be here but it was not a necessity for me to enjoy being here.

  “Did you mean to go this far?” Selene asked, her voice quiet.

  I shot her a dark look. “I don’t do things I don’t mean to.”


  “And yet…something tells me you didn’t mean to kill this girl.”

  Out of all my subordinates, Selene was the only one who could talk to me like this, as if we were friends. These days, she favored the female facet of her incubus form. The body she had created was a statuesque Frenchwoman whose height puts us almost nose to nose. With a river of hair the color of honey and breasts that were every man’s fantasy, she didn’t even need to walk in the dreams of humans to steal sustenance.

  No – Selene even dated. Dated humans, as if she were one of them.

  “Clean this up, Selene,” I muttered, visualizing something to wear. The clothing appeared on me in a millisecond, the perks of being a demon. “Try to dispose of the body in an inconspicuous fashion.”

  I can see how much Selene was struggling not to roll her eyes at me. “This is Vegas. Bodies turn up all the time.”

  “Indeed, they do. But I would prefer it if The Kamenev is not associated with a dead body.”

  I ran a business – this hotel was my business – and over the years, I’d learned that humans became a little touchy when corpses turned up in dumpsters. Assimilation. This was what I wanted to achieve. Selene needed to understand that.

  “You’re no fun anymore,” she murmured with a pout.

  “I’m a king,” I told her, heading for the door. “I’m not supposed to be fun.”

  ***

  Located along the Vegas Strip, The Kamenev was my biggest business venture. The humans I kept as puppets played the part of business partners, and to the outside world, we seemed to be a group of wealthy eastern Europeans, enjoying the opulence that came with our status.