by Wild, Nikki
But now, Nathan seemed confident we’d conquer the world together, head on. And when he let go of my hand and put his arm around my waist, I was ready to face the world along with him, consequences be damned!
There was no reason to be worried though, since like true friends, every one of them stood by the both of us with nothing but support. Most were more curious than anything, wondering when we’d gotten together. Nathan left out the more scandalous details, but filled them in on most of what had happened over the last week.
Including Billy attempting to blackmail him.
The fucking sleaze. I couldn’t believe I’d gone out skiing with him, right after he’d just come from blackmailing Nathan. God, did the guy have no conscience at all? I was glad Nathan had sent him away before I came out, else I’d have been tempted to shove a ski pole up his ass for pulling that stunt.
I didn’t care that I’d nearly died because he’d suggested we go off trail. After all, I’d agree to it, and I had been doing pretty well until the avalanche struck. But how could he think I’d want anything to do with him after he blackmailed Nathan like that?
I’d planned on going back to the room and relaxing, like the doctor had suggested, but the guys convinced us to join them in the restaurant for a little celebration. And I wasn’t feeling that bad, though I certainly wouldn’t have turned down an aspirin or two!
After dinner, Craig ordered a round of drinks for everyone, though I passed. A drink probably would’ve helped take the edge off everything, but it didn’t seem like the best idea after everything that happened.
Once the waitress delivered the drinks, Craig raised his up into the air. He looked at Nathan and I and smiled, his bright white teeth showing. “To Nathan and Sarah. I wish you both the best.”
“To Nathan and Sarah!” The guys said, raising their glasses and clinking them together before taking a drink.
Nathan and I took a sip, then turned and looked at each other, grinning like fools. Nathan leaned in and kissed me again, sparks flying the moment our lips touched together. Even just a quick kiss from him took my breath away.
I wanted to take him back up to the room and fuck his brains out, aches and pains be damned. I hoped we never lost that. It didn’t matter if we were eighty and in beds in a nursing home, I hoped that every time I looked at Nathan, it felt just like now.
“I love you.” He kept his eyes on me, making me feel like I was the most important person in the world. The president, the Beatles, and an alien could’ve walked in right then, and I doubted he’d have even noticed them.
“I love you, too.”
Epilogue
Nathan
Standing outside the door, I took a deep breath and smoothed out the creases in my suit. I’d waited until Kelly had left, then crept down the hall. I had to be in and out before she got back, lest I incur her wrath.
So much had happened in the last couple months. The rest of the trip went off without a hitch, despite Sarah not being able to ski. I’d gone out boarding with the guys a couple times, but I spent most of the time with Sarah. With her so sore after everything, we couldn’t fuck like rabbits, but we still managed to make love a few times.
Telling the guys about me and Sarah had been a walk in the park compared to telling our folks. God, I wished a hole would’ve opened up in the ground and swallowed me when we’d sat in the living room, talking to them about everything.
Neither of them had been thrilled at the idea, but there really wasn’t any reason for us not to be together. We were both adults, we weren’t related by blood, and hell, we hadn’t even known each other until we were in our late teens.
In the end, they supported our decision.
Besides, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice. Whether they approved of us being together or not, Sarah and I had made our decision. We were going to be together.
As quietly as possible, I turned the doorknob, slipping inside and closing the door behind me without making any noise. Sarah stood by the window, staring out at whatever lay beyond. I sucked in a breath at how gorgeous she looked.
The sun washed over her, her brown locks curled and cascading down her back. The dress she’d chosen was perfect, white and flowing without being gaudy or outrageous. Her and Kelly had spent weeks at dress shops, picking out the perfect one.
And they’d done a magnificent job.
Though, truthfully, she could’ve been wearing a potato sack, and I wouldn’t have minded one bit. She would be beautiful no matter what she wore, that I was certain of. Whether it was ski clothes, pajamas, or nothing at all, Sarah never ceased to take my breath away.
I crept over to her, placing my hands over her eyes.
“Guess who?” I whispered in her ear.
“Nathan!” She said with a giggle. She pushed my hands away and turned to glare at me. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here. It’s bad luck to see a bride on her wedding day.”
I shrugged, then slipped my arms around her waist and pulled the two of us together. Then I placed gentle kisses along her jawline. “I don’t care. I had to see you.”
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
“Of course not!” I shook my head. “I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you.” I reached between us to place my hand at her growing stomach. “And with our baby.”
Sarah blushed, then laid her head on my chest. Neither of us had planned to marry this quickly, but a trip to the doctor for Sarah had hit the fast forward button on our plans. But despite the sudden shift, I hadn’t once had a single regret or doubt.
I loved Sarah with all of my heart. And whether we got married now or a year from now, I knew that wouldn’t change. That would never change.
“I love you, Sarah.” I whispered into her ear. “I can’t wait to start a family with you. I can’t wait to be a father. I can’t wait to be your husband. I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”
“Then it’s a good thing you won’t have to wait. In a few hours, I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.” She giggled. “And I’m glad we didn’t just run off to Vegas like I’d wanted. I know I’ll never forget this day.”
“Nor will I. I’ll never forget how beautiful you are in this dress.”
“Even if I am fat now?”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Like you could ever be fat. But even if you suddenly gained two hundred pounds, I would still love you just as much as I do now.”
“I love you, too.” She brought her lips to mine for a quick kiss, then pushed me away. “Now get out of here before Kelly gets back. You know she’ll throw a fit if she finds out you saw me before I walk down the aisle.”
I kissed her one last time, then snuck back out into the hall, a permanent grin etched onto my face. Nothing would’ve been able to ruin this day, not even Kelly yelling at me for sneaking in to see Sarah.
I couldn’t wait for her to walk down the aisle and officially become my wife.
* * *
I hope you enjoyed LUST! You’re not done yet. Turn the page because I’ve included a few special bonus novels just for my loyal fans. You are the reasons I write. -Nikki xoxoxo
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Bonus #1 Illicit Behavior
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–Nikki Wild
Thank you for supporting an independent author! Just for my naughty readers, my entire catalog is now FREE TO READ to anyone with a Kindle Unlimited subscription!
Be sure to check out my entire naughty Nikki Wild catalog by clicking RIGHT HERE!
You might be interested to know that I offer a chance to be an ARC reader, special limited time discounts, new release notification, and FREE EXCLUSIVE CONTENT to anyone that subscribes to my Nikki Wild List! So go ahead, sign up is easy and I will NEVER send you spam or share your e-mail address with anyone.
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1
ILLICIT BEHAVIOR
Trent
“Dude! These groupies are totally ready to go!” My dreadlocked bastard of a bohemian guitarist laughed, splashing his bottle of beer in an arc.
The two hot young girls wrapped around him cooed a chorus of flirtatious giggles. They must have been just barely eighteen, clad in tight, low-cut shirts that made their silky, angelic breasts practically burst out of the seams.
Despite my lack of interest, I wasn’t about to rain on his parade. I lightly raised my own bottle of music festival beer to him, shaking my head.
“You go on ahead, man. Not feelin’ it tonight.”
No matter where we went, fans were throwing themselves at us – and my band-mates were always eager to take the free, willing pussy back to the bus for a fresh bang.
In fact, my bassist and drummer were already back there now, getting their freak on with a few nameless groupies now.
“Serious?” Waylon asked drunkenly.
His limber playing hand slid under a skirt and along a tanned, tender ass, drawing a blush from the groupie’s cheeks. The sight made my cock almost twitch.
Almost.
“You sure you don’t want to try a piece of this Alabama ‘tang?” He pressed on. “Plenty to go around. I’m not greedy.”
The groupie twosome puffed their chests and wiggled provocatively for me, giving me the deepest pair of sultry, lustful looks that they could muster.
They looked cute.
Cute, and too young to be acting like this.
“Think I’m just gonna relax and ride the vibe,” I reaffirmed. “Go get your dick wet.”
“If you say so!”
“And ladies,” I continued, turning towards the girls, who settled down and looked at me almost fearfully. “Don’t keep him up all night. This guy needs to be shredding licks same time tomorrow.”
They nodded respectfully, but Waylon jumped up to his feet, his dreads scattering around his face briefly.
“Ain’t gonna happen. This train rides ‘til sunrise! Ain’t that right, ladies?”
They chuckled with big, goofy hero-worshipping grins on their faces. He scooped them up against his sides, and soon they stumbled off towards the back of the after-party, heading for our bus.
Joke’s on them, I thought to myself. Waylon’s a two-pump chump on a GOOD day.
Truth of the matter was that I’d been in a funk. For the last few weeks, I had turned down sex left, right, and center from even the most flexible little minxes.
A constant stream of the hottest goddamn chicks around went fucking wild for us on the regular.
And why shouldn’t they?
We weren’t just anybody.
We were Trent Masters and the Whiplash, the hottest fucking rock band in America.
On national radiowaves dominated by DJs making music off of laptops, mainstream child stars glammed up and given backing bands, and egotistical personalities lacking substance and spitting shit…we brought something better.
Something harder.
Something real.
Something apparently sorely missed.
Our latest album, Twelve Machines, was flying off the shelves across the country. The last two singles went platinum. Hell, talks of a Grammy nomination were already in the pipeline.
I was on top of the fucking world.
Or I should have felt like I was.
But all I felt was empty inside, and even the quick fix of endless sex didn’t quell the tension.
It was hard to think I was taking advantage of these girls when they grinded up against me at after-parties like this, always seeming so desperate to give my cock the old spit-shine.
It just didn’t feel right.
But… I couldn’t tell what I wanted instead.
What I needed.
I drank another swig from my bottle of beer, watching the other bands delight in the attention. We were in town for this badass music festival called the RipFest, and we’d shared the stage with some serious rock legends and decent upcoming talent.
They were having fun. Even the older, crustier guys looked like they were having a blast, likely filled with enough drugs to bring down a Bull Rhino in its prime.
It’s not like I wasn’t grateful… I was just… Lost.
The constant attention was overwhelming – too much of a great fucking thing. I had to be careful about the shit I said, because rock stars were even closer to scandal in this day and age.
Everything constantly recorded, rumors spread with the speed of a tweet and the snap of a camera on some girl’s iPhone.
It was all about being careful and avoiding the wrong kind of spotlight. Blogs are eager for clicks, and the whole world is ready to tear you down to build an audience.
I’d paid my dues.
No more practicing in oily garages and filthy bars. No more struggling in hard labor and backbreaking jobs to make ends meet. I wasn’t going to let some little misstep tear me down.
Despite the bullshit, the throne on this rising fucking star felt grand.
But as the light grew brighter…the shadows only grew filthier. Despite all the fame, all the success, all the money and women and the fancy toys. I knew the truth.
The world is a filthy place.
And I am the reigning king of the filth.
2
Angel
Summoning every drop of charisma that I could find, I smiled and plunked down the glasses at the four-top bar table for the graying, slovenly bikers. I rattled off the orders as I sloshed the drinks in front of them in turn, each of them smiling grotesquely.
“Four drafts: Bud, Bud, Miller Lite, and Abita. And four shots of Fireball, because why not,” I added mirthlessly.
“Thanks, darlin’,” the closest biker chuckled, lifting his shot and suddenly grabbing a nice handful of my ass.
I flinched and drew back from him, preserving my pride – and my job – by not responding poorly to the harassment.
“Can I get you guys anything else?”
It was less a question, and more a growl.
“One other thing.”
He dropped his menu on the ground, and looked at me expectantly.
“Step onto that.”
I was used to this by now, and I suppressed a heavy sigh and a filthy look. Instead, I stepped meaningfully onto the discarded menu.
“We’ll take one of you,” he grinned.
“You can’t have one of me.”
“But darlin’, you’re on the menu!”
They broke into riotous laughter, as if this was the cleverest fucking joke ever.
It was pretty funny the first time someone did it to me. Months ago… People are less original than they think. I heard this one twice a week.
“Looks like we’re fresh out,” I responded, scooping the menu off the floor and strolling away.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw their laughter die down, and they were looking at me with annoyance for not playing along.
To hell with ‘em.
To hell with everything about this stupid goddamn job.
I hated working this ancient, decrepit dive bar. The money was just good enough to keep myself afloat, and bartending was fun enough, but not somewhere like this
.
If it wasn’t bikers, it was rednecks.
If it wasn’t rednecks, it was thugs.
If it wasn’t thugs…
A shiver went up my spine. I didn’t like to think about that.
Old Greg owned this place, and he was a friendly enough guy. Hell, he’d been a godsend. A lifelong resident of this backwater little town, he was old enough to be my grandfather. His best patron was our sheriff – someone who turned a blind eye when I was brought onboard to tend bar at sixteen.
At least that was no longer a problem. I’d turned eighteen pouring drinks.
When it was slow and I was cleaning glasses or wiping surfaces, I dreamed of exactly what you’d think a bright, young girl who dream about in a place like this:
Getting the hell out of Riverton.
That was the name of this place. The town, not the bar. Well, the bar too, technically.
Riverton Bar, in Riverton… On Riverton Avenue.
Remember when I said people aren’t original?
That applies to the friendly ones, too.
Dropping the drink tray off at the stack, I passed back around the counter and checked on my other patrons – several working-class stragglers, downing cheap beer specials, an older fellow nursing a whiskey neat, and a few older crones sipping heavy martinis.
Satisfied, I began taking stock of my liquors. I was gonna have to pop open a bottle of Crown soon, and we were still out of half our rum…
While I checked things off on my clipboard, I noticed someone approaching the bar. I didn’t think much of it, and I continued my work for a moment. I was busy, and the shadow could see that.
Whoever it was, he could wait a minute.
Ticking a couple of more checks, I finally turned around to see the same biker from before – the jester of the group.
