by Kylie Parker
Table of Contents
Chasing Bad Boys: A Bad Boy Romance Series (Chasing Bad Boys Book 6)
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
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 2
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 3
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 4
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 5
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
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 7
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 8
Chasing Bad Boys: A Bad Boy Romance Series (Chasing Bad Boys Book 6)
Kylie Parker
Copyright © 2017 by Kylie Parker
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
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NOTE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 7
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
BONUS SNEAK PEEK: Chasing Bad Boys Book 8
1. Sarah
2. Robbie
3. Sarah
4. Robbie
5. Sarah
6. Robbie
7. Sarah
8. Sarah
9. Robbie
10. Sarah
11. David
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NOTE
Chasing Bad Boys is a collection of scorching hot standalone romances in the Chasing Bad Boy Romance Series.
Each story has
it’s own panty melting bad boys with their own individual stories so you can pick up anywhere in the series.
Kylie Parker
Chapter One
“Mayday, mayday… United 106 heavy on approach to Dulles Airport. We’re at 34,000ft in an accelerated stall…”
At 7:30 pm on Saturday, March 12th, 2016, 22-year old first officer John Samuels relayed a mayday call in a panic. His much more experienced captain had just risen from his seat and was facing him before suffering a heart attack and collapsing onto the control yoke and onto Samuels himself, pushing the yoke forcefully all the way down. A rather thin man with a dark complexion could do nothing to move the enormous, 6’3” and 315lbs captain away from the control yoke or himself. His head was resting on his right leg while his large stomach kept pressing the yoke down.
“Roger that, United 106. Push the yoke up and…”
“Negative, Dulles tower. The captain has collapsed onto the yoke and will not allow me to push it up…” At that moment, Samuels paused and placed his right thumb and index finger on Captain Richardson’s neck, searching for a pulse.
“I am getting no pulse from the Captain, Dulles. I think he’s dead,” Samuels announced. Silence followed his last remark. Five seconds later, he received a completely unhelpful response.
“Roger that, United 106.”
The young first officer checked his altimeter. His Boeing 767 had already lost more than 6,000ft of altitude and was falling from the sky like a rock. Unwilling to wait for any assistance from the control tower, he grabbed the microphone over his head and addressed the passengers:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I request anyone with flying experience to come to the cockpit. This is an emergency. Repeat, this is an emergency.”
However, up until that moment, every passenger had already realized that the plane was near doom. Samuels could hear the screams of his 195 passengers and his all-female cabin crew could not possibly lend him a helping hand. It seemed that the only way out of this catastrophic scenario was brute force. A skinny, 5’9” man like him had no chance of pulling Richardson off of him and, more importantly, the control yoke.
midst all the chaos, a first class passenger wearing a navy-blue cashmere suit unbuckled his seatbelt and arose to his impressive, 6’4” stature. It was Dean Marshall, heir to the famous Marshall family. Indeed, Dean was an enormous and athletic 214lbs, 32-year old man with more than 3,000 flight hours under his belt in a smaller, but equally sophisticated aircraft. He used to fly all three of his corporate jets all around the States, yet, for once, he had decided not to fly to Washington in one of those. Marshall wanted to keep the reasons for his visit secret. He was on the verge of a major breakthrough: A complex piece of software that could eventually replace pilots. Handsome, eligible billionaires like him never go unnoticed, and the last thing he needed was the paparazzi chasing him around for a statement or a photograph. With short, straight black hair, sky-blue eyes, high cheekbones, a chiseled face, full lips, and a massive chest acquired by endless hours of freediving, Dean Marshall was a great-looking man.
Straightening the suit jacket, out of the corner of his eye and through the tiny opening in the blue curtain, ten feet to the left, Dean caught a flight attendant rushing through the narrow corridor of the passenger cabin. She was a beautiful, slender blonde. She had to be at least 5’9” (not counting her heels), wearing a dark-blue, knee-long dress and black pantyhose, like all United Airlines female flight attendants. However, the young man had no time for flirting. He turned his head to the right and faced the locked, cockpit door, seven feet across him.
Just when he reached it, he heard her sweet, feminine voice and sensed a featherlike touch on his left shoulder.
“Sir!” she exclaimed.
“Sir, do you any flying experience?” At that moment, Dean faced the young flight attendant and only then did he realize just how beautiful she was: She could not have been more than 25 or 26 years-old. She had long, curly blonde hair, light-green eyes, low cheekbones, a celestial nose, and fleshy lips.
“Yeah, I’ve been flying jets for more than six years, Ms…Stiles,” Dean responded in his usual, firm tone, reading the name tag on the left side of her chest, three inches below her shoulder. His voice was deep and manly. Immediately, the young woman opened a small cabinet next to her, pulled out a key and opened the cockpit door.
At that sound, Samuels looked over his right shoulder and saw the two of them entering.
“Sir? I need your help!” he yelled. Dean remained calm and composed. As a pilot, he had faced similar circumstances before, but he had to know more about their situation before he could assist Samuels.
“Can you please take the captain off of me and the control yoke?” Samuels’ voice got even louder. Without uttering a word, Dean made two steps to the right and leaned forward. He then went to squeeze his large, long arms under Captain Richardson’s stomach.
“Ok, help me out here, man. What’s your name again?” Dean kept his voice down; it was important not to add to Samuels’ stress.
“My name’s John Samuels. What would you have me do, sir?”
“Name’s Dean Marshall. Push him up. Push him way up. This guy weighs a ton…” Dean gritted his teeth and flexed his arm muscles, in an attempt to lift Richardson. Samuels put his right hand on the captain’s face and his left hand on his chest.
“Ok. 3,2,1… Push!”
After Dean’s countdown, both men flexed their muscles. The young first officer soon blushed while gritting his teeth. Squinting at him and also gritting his teeth, Dean saw a large vein on Samuel’s forehead; it was about to explode. Realizing how heavy Richardson was, he held him even tighter in his grasp, leaned forward, and stuck his left cheek on his back. Then, flexing every muscle in his body, he continued his seemingly hopeless attempt to remove the captain from the control yoke.
A drop of sweat ran down his forehead. Athletic as he was, he still had to give it his all. Finally, after a thirty-second struggle, the two of them managed to pull the captain up. Dean was so exhausted by the effort that he felt his knees shaking. He dropped Richardson at once. The overweight airman landed hard on his back on the cockpit floor.
Meanwhile, the plane’s altitude was dropping, fast. Samuels squinted at the altimeter.
“What’s our altitude?” Dean’s voice was trembling; he was gasping for breath.
“17,000ft and dropping. Mr. Marshall…?” Samuels faced Dean again, on his left.
“Have you ever recovered from a stall, sir? This is my first flight. Ever. I don’t know if I can do this.” The inexperienced officer was terrified. Dean nodded with his mouth partially open. Before he sat in the captain’s seat, though, he knew that he had to push the control yoke all the way up in order to push the nose of the plane down and reduce the angle of attack. No airplane responds immediately after such action; they all take four or five seconds to respond and those seconds could eventually prove vital for the survival of everyone on board.
Dean strapped himself in and faced the first officer.
“Samuels, we can do this. All I want you to do is handle communications, ok? Don’t worry…” Dean then averted his gaze from Samuels and looked outside the cockpit window. It was a dark, moonless night.
“It’s all gonna be alright,” he added. Dean checked the airspeed and took the controls in his hands lightly. His heart was pounding in his chest. Both men then sensed the plane leveling off, slowly and steadily. The plane flew at 172mph, and its speed was slowly increasing. Before the stall, and due to Richardson, the plane had slowed down dangerously, gradually losing lift. He watched the airspeed increase—175,180, 190. When the plane finally reached 200 miles per hour, Dean posed a question:
“What’s the plane’s VY (the best rate of climb)?”
“Uh… 250 is good…” Samuels wiped the sweat from his brow and went on to notify the control tower in Dulles International Airport but, before he did, he chirped:
“Mr. Marshall, you did it!�
�� He opened his eyes widely and faced Dean; the first officer was delighted. Dean then went on to trim the airplane to a speed near 250 miles per hour. He rolled the trim wheel back a little; it resulted in a decrease in trim speed. His actions did not result in a steady climb. The plane was now less than 10 miles away from the airport. Neither of the two men could hear screams anymore.
At only 4,000ft, a sigh of relief escaped Dean. He lay back in the captain’s seat and closed his eyes before he addressed the first officer again:
“Tell them to clear our path for landing. The last thing we want is a mid-air collision. You got control…”