The Good Girl In My Bed (Dangerous Desire Book 2)

by Lexxie Couper

  She probably finished the sentence, but I’ve gotta admit, I don’t remember it. Sleep fell over me, deep and heavy and dreamless.

  When I woke, I ached. A lot. But the kind of ache a fighter knows and welcomes. The ache of bruised muscles and bones was a familiar ache. Not, thank fucking God, the ache of ruptured organs and destroyed nerves.

  Squinting at the muted light in the room, I pushed myself into a sitting position. A tight pressure around my ribs made me look down. Someone had strapped my torso in a length of white gauze bandage while I slept.

  Lila.

  I touched my right side, putting a little more pressure on the rib I suspected was cracked.

  Pain lanced through me, but not as much as I’d expected.

  The dull throb in my jaw pulled my attention from my ribs, and I raised my fingers to the side of my face. Whoa. That was some serious swelling.

  “Doctor Winchester said to tell you the next time you take too long to get to the good stuff, she’s going to smack you silly.”

  I looked up to find Ronnie sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the room’s closed door, a book in one hand, the tonfa from my gym gripped loosely in the other.

  She smiled when our eyes met and put the book aside. Joe Hill’s latest horror novel. Hadn’t I brought enough horror into her life?

  “How you feeling?” she asked.

  “Better,” I answered truthfully. “How long was I out for?”

  “Long enough for Doctor Winchester to dope you, put all the joints that were dislocated back into correct alignment, strap your ribs, and inject something into your jaw. She said you’re going to have a very sore right shoulder for a while.” She shifted on the floor and pulled a tiny baggy from her hip pocket. “Fluffy brought your tooth back.”

  She held the baggy out for me to see. Yeah, there it was. The molar Rufie had knocked out.

  Ronnie grinned. “I don’t know what Fluffy thought you’ll do with it. Is it the kind of thing you can get put back in?”

  I chuckled and winced at the pain in my rib. “Did Lila say when I was good to go?”

  Pushing herself to her feet, Ronnie placed the tonfa on the chair next to her and came and sat beside me. “The painkillers she’s pumped into you will last for another eight hours. She doesn’t think you should travel during that time. Maybe even longer after that.”

  I processed the instruction. I’d driven in worse condition. The night I drove to Ronnie’s house, drugged out of my brain, delusional and barely alive after taking a gunshot to the side was just one example.

  “So that gives us eight hours here.” Ronnie touched my jaw. Whatever Lila had injected into the side of my face had killed the pain there. I barely registered the contact from Ronnie’s fingers.

  I turned my head to press my lips—still sore, but not as bad as before—to the center of her palm. She closed her eyes and a soft sigh passed her lips.

  “Eight hours to make love to you,” I murmured before closing my fingers around her wrist and tugging her closer to me.

  I took possession of the side of her neck with a nuzzling kiss, the warmth of her skin, her scent, flooding me with hungry desire.

  She moaned a sound of equally hungry agreement and then pulled away a little as I nipped a path of kisses toward her mouth.

  She placed her hand on my chest and shook her head, her gaze locked on mine. “Doctor Winchester was very specific about you not doing anything physically exerting.” Her cheeks turned pink. “I think she was referring to sex, given that she knows how often we did it the last time you were injured like this.”

  I chuckled, snaked my hand around her waist, and tugged her closer again to me. “Lila can stick her not doing anything physically exerting where the sun don’t shine. You told me you were going to kiss me, strip me naked, and fuck me senseless when you saw me again.” I skimmed my palm up her back, around her ribcage to cup her breast. “You’ve only done one of those three things.”

  She moaned again, the undeniable desire in the sound making my cock hard. “Lucas…”

  “Haven’t you worked it out by now, babe?” I asked, nuzzling at the side of her neck again. Christ, she smelt good. Tasted good. I wanted to be inside her so fucking much. “When it comes to you, I’m unstoppable.”

  She gave another shaky moan, this one hornier than the others. “Lucas…”

  I dragged my thumb over her nipple, my blood running hot at how it tightened into a point at my touch. I wanted it in my mouth. Now. I wanted to suck on it. Bite it.

  I slid my fingers beneath the hem of her shirt and bunched it up over her breast with the back of my hand, bending down to capture her nipple with my mouth before she could stop me.

  “Holy fuck, Lucas.” She tangled a hand in my hair, arching as I sucked with greedy need. “Th-this is not what you were…”

  I moved. Upward, silencing her with a hungry kiss as I pressed her flat to her back on the narrow bed.

  Apart from the bandages bound around my ribs, I was naked. Buck naked. Which meant there was nothing stopping my cock—now a rigid, jutting pole—from rubbing against Ronnie’s groin as I settled myself between her thighs.

  The friction of denim on engorged flesh detonated a wave of lust in me, and I snared her wrists, pinning them to the bed as I fucked her mouth with my tongue.

  I should have been taking it easy. I should have been relaxing. My freshly re-located shoulder was screaming at me, despite the painkillers, but fuck taking it easy. Fuck relaxing. I was alive. I was with Ronnie. I’d defied everything I thought life had in store for me.

  Fuck taking it easy and relaxing.

  I kissed her. Over and over. Worshipped her mouth until my head swam and my balls ached. Then I moved to her breasts, removing her shirt with shaky hands and losing myself in their gorgeous weight and shape and taste.

  “Lucas. Oh God, Lucas,” Ronnie rasped, fisting her hand in my hair tighter. “You shouldn’t—”

  I kissed her silent again, this time moving my hand to the fly of her jeans and inching it open. I slid my fingers between our bodies, and then into her body, stroking my middle and pointer finger against her wet inner muscles.

  She cried out, arching beneath me, driving her hips upward. I moved my fingers inside her, rubbing them together faster and faster, her whimpers feeding the fire burning though me.

  When I rolled my wrist, grinding my thumb knuckle to her clit, she bucked and screamed my name and erupted all over my hand.

  “That’s my girl,” I murmured to her temple before sliding down her body to lick her wet pussy.

  I would never get enough of her juices. They tasted like honey and salt and musk and made my cock ache. I parted her folds with my thumbs and nibbled at her clit, flicked at it with my tongue. I wanted her to come again. I needed her to come again. I honestly didn’t know if I had the strength to make love to her the way I wanted to—my body was beginning to rebel against my movements—but I knew I wouldn’t stop until she came again.

  “Holy fuck,” she gasped, driving her heels into the bed as I lapped at her clit. “Holy fuck, Lucas…that’s so good…so fucking…”

  She came a second time, coating my tongue with her release.

  A rush of joy and desire flowed through me, singeing away every ounce of pain I felt.

  I would suffer the consequences later, but for now…

  Rising up onto my knees, I pulled her jeans down over her legs and threw them to the floor.

  “Lucas,” she said, her voice shaky. “You’re meant to be—”

  I hooked my hands beneath her ass and yanked her towards me, spreading her thighs wider with the sides of my legs as I impaled her on my dick.

  “Fucking you,” I finished, flattening her to her back again, this time buried as deep as I could inside her.

  She chuckled, a throaty, husky noise that almost made me shoot my load there and then. “We are both going to be in so much shit with Doctor Winchester.”

  “Who’s going t
o tell her?” I asked, sliding in and out of her with slow rolls of my hips. Hell yeah, I was aching. Sore all over. Hell yeah I was going to suffer big time, but right at that moment, pain meant nothing to me. Only pleasure…

  She laughed, her sex contracting around my cock as she did so. “She’ll know. And we’re going to get in trouble.”

  I slammed harder into her, mauling one of her breasts with my hand, my gaze locked on her face. “I don’t give a fuck. Nothing is going to stop me loving you. Nothing. Not Rufie, not my past shit life, not an ex-CIA agent…nothing. Understand?”

  Ronnie closed her eyes, pleasure contorting her face. “Got it.”

  I drove into her over and over, fighting to hold off my own fast-approaching orgasm.

  “I love you, Lucas,” Ronnie whispered, writhing against me as her hips began to buck and her pussy began to pulse. “Holy fuck, I love you…love you…love…”

  She came a third time, her climax stealing her words, her rhythm.

  I erupted with her, pumping into her, filling her with wad after spurting wad of my seed.

  Finally, awash with the warm rush of pleasure, my body refused to behave any longer. Pain laced through me, and I slumped onto Ronnie, my groans a mix of happiness, satisfaction, agony, and surrender.

  “Fuck, I hurt,” I mumbled against Ronnie’s throat.

  “Told you you are going to get into trouble,” she murmured back, tracing small patterns with her fingertips over my shoulders. “And Doctor Winchester is never going to trust me to look after you again.”

  With a low, exhausted chuckle, I raised my head and grinned at her. “You sweet-talked a Marine with a highly trained, dangerous guard dog into letting you do the exact opposite of what I’d instructed him to do. I think you’ll be able to handle Lila. Besides, she likes you.”

  A devilish grin stretched Ronnie’s lips, lips I wanted to kiss again already. “Likes me? Well, she is the hottest woman I’ve ever met. Maybe…”

  “Don’t even think about it, babe,” I said with a mock glower. “You’re mine. No one else is allowed to even think about having you. Got it?”

  Her smile grew warm. “Got it.”

  I shifted on the bed, stretching onto the side with the least pained ribs and pulling Ronnie into the curve of my body.

  “Spooning,” she said, wriggling her ass against my groin. “I approve.”

  “Good.” I kissed her temple again, snuggled her closer to me, and then closed my eyes with a sated sigh. “Me too.”

  I woke some hours later.

  Ronnie sat in the room’s biggest chair, dressed in one of the T-shirts I kept here in the safe house, curled in a ball, asleep. I noticed she’d moved the chair to the door, to stop it from being opened.

  Christ, she was incredible.

  The smell of coffee filled the small, hidden room, making my mouth water and my stomach growl. A good sign.

  Rising off the bed, I took stock of my aches and pains, rated them on a scale of one to holy fuck, and then crossed to the table where Ronnie had set up the small coffee percolator.

  I’d recover. There was nothing broken or permanently damaged, but I’d taken a beating. Thankfully, I’d given one back. And, as far as I knew, Lila and Fluffy had finished the job.

  A piece of paper beside the coffee machine caught my attention, and I picked it up, recognizing Lila’s handwriting.

  “You need to rest up for a while,” the note said. “Veterinarian’s orders. No crazy sex with Veronica for at least twenty-four hours. I suspect, however, that by the time you’ve read this, the deed has already been done. Sometimes I wonder why I bother. And then I remember. Look after that fierce girl of yours, Lucas. She is exactly what you need in your life and I would be very upset if anything happened to her. Talk soon. L.W.”

  I put the note down, poured a mug of coffee, and turned and leant my ass against the edge of the table.

  Ronnie still sat curled asleep in the chair.

  Lila would be upset if anything happened to her? Ha. I’d be beyond pissed. Cold anger rippled through me and, despite the pain in my jaw, I smiled. If anyone thought they could come at me again, they’d realize very quickly they’d made a mistake.

  After what happened at the warehouse, the word would already be out to leave me the fuck alone. If they didn’t…

  I studied Ronnie’s sleeping face, my smile stretching wider.

  Well, it wasn’t just me anyone who came after me had to fear. It was the woman asleep in a chair, hugging a tonfa, snoring softly.

  Ronnie was fierce, like Lila said. Fierce and gentle and mine. The best thing in my life. The reason for my life.

  I took a sip of coffee and then went searching for my broken cell. Hopefully it was still charged enough to use. I needed to access the net ASAP. It was time to buy Ronnie a present. No, two.

  A diamond ring. And a Doberman.

  Message from Lexxie

  Dear Reader,

  I had lots of fun writing The Good Girl in My Bed. It’s a follow-up to The Bad Boy Next Door, which was the book that started Lucas and Ronnie’s epic adventures together. These two have completely taken charge of my imagination and are running amuck. Lucas and Ronnie’s adventures will continue with The Bad Boy in Cuffs, followed by The Good Girl in Latex.

  The End

  Preview another book by Lexxie Couper

  Revving It Up

  Stimulated, Book 2

  Chapter 1

  Sydney, Australia

  Nothing got Sami Charlton off more than hot vibrations between her spread thighs.

  It would be worrisome if she didn’t enjoy the sensation, given she experienced it every day. Made a living from it, in fact. A very successful living. One that included truck-loads of money, multiple trophies and a level of celebrity status in certain circles.

  Who would have thought the day her older brother had deposited her on his trail bike when she was only six would lead to a career—twenty years later—where she got to experience an orgasm every time she went to work? In front of thousands of people, no less?

  Life was indeed good.

  Dropping back through the gears of her KTM 350, Sami rode the last throbbing wave of her latest motocross-induced climax before drawing to a halt next to her mechanic.

  “How many?” Jay Rutledge asked as she handed him her custom-designed helmet, a knowing smirk on his face.

  “Three,” she answered, scruffing at her hair with her gloved fingers. She didn’t need a mirror to know the cropped peroxide-white strands were now sticking out from her scalp in a crazy mess. When one wore a helmet for extended periods of time, one gave up the notion of having the kind of tresses found in shampoo commercials.

  Besides, white-white hair looked awesome against her olive skin, especially with the damn-near iridescent purple streak that hung down to her cheekbone she’d added yesterday.

  “Only three?” Jay tsked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You tired today or something?”

  Sami fixed him with a direct gaze. “You try having multiple orgasms while executing a nic nac on a bike your mechanic still hasn’t fixed the mono-shock rear suspension on, in front of the country’s leading motocross journalists and your main sponsors.”

  Jay laughed. “Ouch.

  “Yeah, that’s what my clit said.”

  Sami threw her leg over her bike and scruffed at her hair again. In about ten minutes she would be speaking to said journalists and sponsors. That’s why they were at the Sydney Stadium, after all. To see her perform the routine that scored her the International Women’s Motocross Championship title last week in Dallas. To celebrate her win with interview questions and cheesy photos, and maybe—in the case of her sponsors—throw some more money her way.

  “Your clit needs to—”

  “Ms. Charlton.”

  At the excited shout behind them, Sami and Jay turned.

  “What the hell is she doing here?” Jay muttered, handing Sami back her helmet. “I’m outta here
.”

  Sami scowled at her mechanic. If the sod weren’t so fucking good at his job, she’d hit him. Or sack him. Or crash-tackle him to the ground before he could get away. No way was she facing Dianne Slough alone.

  “Ms. Charlton.” The woman waved, tottering toward her on six-inch heels.

  Sami rolled her eyes. What kind of idiot wore six-inch heels to a motocross event?

  The same kind who works for Mr. Oh Look at Me I’m So Fucking Awesome.

  Before Sami could pretend she hadn’t seen the woman hurrying toward her across the pit track, Eli Swanson’s personal assistant was squirming like an excited puppy directly in front of her.

  “Hello, Ms. Charlton,” the woman chirped. “Mr. Swanson was very impressed with your performance today.”

  Sami pulled a very unladylike face. “Mr. Swanson can blow me.”

  Dianne Slough gasped. Sami had no idea why. “Mr. Swanson can blow me” was her standard response every time the woman relayed a condescending compliment from the international motocross superstar.

  “He’s asked if you’ll join him in his private box for a drink,” Dianne plowed on.

  “Hell no.”

  Dianne’s wide smile didn’t falter. Sami had to give her points. No matter how many times Sami was rude to her boss—via Dianne—the woman continued. Swanson must pay her a shitload of money.

  “Didn’t realize Biggest Dickus was in Australia at the moment.”

  At Jay’s chuckle, Sami turned to find her mechanic standing on her right. Jay and Dianne had history. She didn’t know what it was, but it had something to do with when Jay was Eli’s head mechanic. She raised her eyebrows at him and he shrugged with a grin. “What? I’ve got your back. See how bloody awesome I am?”

  As always, Dianne stubbornly refused to admit he was there. She didn’t even rise to the bait of Jay’s favorite nickname for her boss.

  Draping her elbow on Jay’s shoulder, Sami fixed Dianne with a wide grin. “Tell Swanson when he makes a public apology for saying female motocross riders have no chance of being better than their male counterparts, we’ll have drinks. Until then…” She tossed Jay a sideways wink. “My butt. His lips.”