by Kendall Duke
He tipped my leg up, opening me further. “Say it,” he hissed between his teeth, and hearing the need in his voice made me shiver. I pretended to resist as he picked up speed, giving me more of his considerable girth, forcing me further open. I moaned as he squeezed my nipple, filling me.
“Please, Jordan, can I have it harder—”
I moaned as he pushed all the way inside, pinning me down, making me his as he filled me. He gripped my leg, using it as leverage as he pushed further and further in, the hard stiffness gliding inside of my wet opening. My clit began to pulse. Jordan instinctively knew I was close, and picked up speed. I rocked back and forth on the bed as he fucked me, harder and harder, until I gasped and my whole body contracted with pleasure, squeezing the stiff rod inside of me. Jordan sighed as he came too, the damp heat mingling below, our bodies sticky and satisfied as he dismounted.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said softly, kissing me again. Just a regular morning, except for one thing—
“Oh crap!” I sat bolt upright in bed. “Did I sleep through my alarm?”
“Relax, baby,” he said, laying back in the bed with his arms propping up his head. He looked so gorgeous I almost climbed on top of him, but then I remembered what day it was.
“Did I?” I rolled towards my night table, searching for my phone. Jordan stretched and yawned, completely unconcerned.
“No,” he said, “you’re just fine. Promise. Betty won’t be here till ten, remember?” Betty was bringing my wedding dress, and helping me get ready. I swung back to look at him again. “Wallace is meeting with the caterer. He’ll come over after that.”
“Who’s picking up Caleb?”
“Baby I told you, I promise—” He sat up in bed now, and cradled my face in his hands. “I’m not going to let anything screw this up. You’re going to have the most beautiful wedding ever.” I opened my mouth to protest but he cut me off, his eyebrow arched in a way that brooked no argument. “Ever.”
He was probably right. The roses were in full bloom, their scent enchanting the air all around the house; I’d attacked his mom’s garden and it was now a sight to behold, beautiful flowers exploding in cheerful bursts of electric color all through the yard. He’d already built the trellis where we would say our vows, and the chairs were delivered yesterday; I’d been pleased by how many of his old friends were coming. More than one had told me how grateful they were that Jordan—the war hero who disappeared once he got back from duty—was now doing well. Even some of the guys from his support group were coming. It was going to be fun.
Sheila told me if I wanted to I could use some of the sweet old dogs from the shelter as family for my side, but I told her that was okay. We were adopting whoever didn’t find a home once she retired at the end of this year, anyway; Jordan was already converting the barn. That’s what barns are for, he told me. Animals. Wild animals, domestic animals—whatever you want, baby.
God I loved him.
I looked into those turquoise eyes, the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen, and couldn’t do anything but kiss him again. The baby kicked, announcing himself, and I gasped and pulled Jordan’s hand down so he could feel him, healthy and strong. Just like daddy.
“Have you thought about a name yet?” I gazed at him, this man I loved. He nodded.
“I like Jesse,” he said, and I laughed. “What?” He grinned at me. “That way he’s named after my favorite person.”
“We could name him Wallace,” I said, “or—”
“No,” Jordan said, leaning back against his pillow again. He stretched, his long, strong body flexing in the morning light, and I felt my stomach flutter. “I like Jesse.” He gave me a lazy grin, that dimple in his cheek deepening, and the flutter turned into a shiver.
“What time did you say Betty was coming over?” I crawled towards him, climbing over his long legs and running my fingers over his hard chest as my mouth found his—until I remembered what day it was again, and leaned back to look at the clock.
He ran his fingers through my hair, tightening his grip and pulling my mouth back to his. “Who cares?” He mumbled the words through a smile, and then we were at it again.
This was the happiest day of my life, so far. But as my hands found his body and his found mine, I knew it wasn’t the last happiest day of my life. I had a long stretch of those in front of me. And so did Jordan.
The End
Kendall Duke’s Innocent Series
Follow the links and don’t forget to leave a review! I hope you enjoy reading these sweet little books as much as I enjoyed writing them. I’ve included an excerpt from The Virgin and the Convict at the end of this book—check it out and if you like it, follow the link to enjoy the rest of the book on Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited.
The Virgin and the Hero: A First Time Military Romance
From the Flames: A First Time Steamy Romance
The Rookie and the Virgin: A First Time Romance
Heartbeats: A First Time Military Romance
The Virgin and the Convict: An Alpha Bad Boy First Time Romance
Her First Ride: A First Time Cowboy Romance
The Surfer and the Virgin: An Alpha Bady Boy First Time Romance
The Kissing Game: A Rock Star First Time Romance
Other books by Kendall Duke:
The Bodyguard Anthology: An Erotic Russian Alpha Romance Books 1-4
From The Convict and the Virgin:
Trinity
This had to be the worst of it.
I felt like maybe I’d broken a dozen mirrors without realizing it. Or perhaps a couple black cats had wandered back and forth in front of me earlier today without my noticing. At any rate, something was up, because I was having the absolute worst streak of luck in recent memory—I’m the queen of cheerfully smiling through absolute crappiness, but I hadn’t had so much to deal with in…Well… A year.
My water heater broke. The back window over the sink was cracked and I’d found mouse poop on the counter this morning. My cat still hadn’t come home—and yes, she was black, but also white and tawny and wonderful and certainly not the source of anyone’s bad luck—tonight I got called in to work the graveyard shift, the weird property manager still hadn’t returned my calls, and last, but not least, I’d just received an ecstatic voicemail from Mina, my room-mate, who was delighted to inform me that the guy she met on Tinder was her soul-mate, and they were moving to Spain. Right now.
I loved Mina; we’d worked together for about a year, and she was a great nurse. But the incredible sense of fun that made her such an easy person to get along with also made her difficult to count on. She was impulsive and occasionally even thoughtless. But as a room-mate, those were flaws that matched mine, in an odd way. I could use a little spontaneity because I’m shy and anxious sometimes, and occasionally, her thoughtlessness forced me into social situations that brought new and interesting people into my life. But this took the cake. She’d never done anything like this before. The worst was bringing along a stranger to a coffee date, never anything like this. Never.
And rent was due in a week.
And I still had those bills to pay… I swore under my breath as I pulled into a parking spot behind the hospital and checked my bag again. I’d forgotten my wallet, just as a bonus, so I was missing… Yup, my ID badge. Great. On the way through the rain I called my shift manager, Linsey, and she met me at the door.
“Hey, Trin!” She was grinning at me like it was Christmas. I smiled back at her as we walked down the hall; for better or worse, that was me. Always smiling, always ready with a joke. I think psychologists call that deflection. “Thanks for coming in. I hope the rest of your birthday was better—I just really didn’t know what else to do.”
I hid the sudden rush of embarrassment that filled me, from my unpolished toes to the top of my head. She was right; I’d forgotten to add that to the list of general crappiness. It was my birthday. That made it official.
Worst. Birthday. Ever.
&nbs
p; ~~~
Eric
I hadn’t meant to let him get to me.
Rico was waiting for the bus, like he always did, as if he hadn’t even moved in the past two years. I knew I should’ve just stayed hidden and waited for the next one, but it was almost midnight. There wasn’t going to be a next one. And it was a long walk home in the rain, if you’re the generous type and want to call the squat where I slept curled up under some busted up cardboard boxes ‘home.’
“Hey Rico,” I said, nodding to him as I took the opposite side of the lean-to, hoping the bus would be on time. I really wasn’t in the mood for a fight. Maybe Rico’d changed; I’d been inside for two years, after all, and a lot could happen in two years. I’d definitely changed.
“Hey Eric,” he said, and as soon as I heard his voice I hunched my shoulders and pointedly looked the other way; same old Rico. Great. An auntie was sitting on the bench between us, and I hoped her presence was another deterrent, but instead I heard Rico move closer to me and turned my head just enough to keep an eye on him. “Man, you looking for work? Got a good job lined up.”
I knew exactly what that meant. “No thanks, got a job already.” We’d never worked with Rico in the past; too low-rent. I guessed he thought we were on the same level now, and he wasn’t wrong. If anything, there was a chance he had a real bed to sleep in, and I was lower in the social pecking order than he was these days.
“No you ain’t.” Rico was way too close. I moved so that my back was pressed up against the plexiglass and watched him with my peripheral vision. This motherfucker… Rico was always trying to score, always hustling, always talking shit and always looking for a fight. I honestly didn’t know how he was still alive. He must be part cockroach. Rico sat down next to the auntie, who huffed and slid away from him. “I got a good job, and you ain’t got none. Ain’t doing nothing but getting ready to go back to jail.” Apparently, he thought this would be a persuasive pitch.
His real name was Edward. Why people agreed to call him Rico, I’ll never know. Nothing rich about him—or Spanish, but whatever. I’d known him since sixth grade. It looked like he’d lost a couple more teeth, and maybe a couple dozen pounds; yeah, I thought, no thanks, because I could guess what job he was into now. “Actually, that’s exactly what I’m avoiding. Don’t need a job, Rico.”
“Too good, huh,” he said, and I readied myself. “Always too damn good. You still think you a artist, huh? After being inside? You ain’t nothing now, man.” He wasn’t necessarily wrong. I let it slide. But then he was standing right in front of me. I had about six inches and fifty pounds on him, but there he was, the chemicals crackling in his brain like fireworks on the fourth of July. He was dangerous, and he knew it. “You always was a bitch,” he said, and that’s when I ducked.
Rico hit the plexiglass but didn’t seem to notice. He swung at me again, and I managed to block most of it before dodging away. I didn’t want to fight him; even with all that speed in his veins, I could hurt him. We’d fought about a hundred times, growing up, and he’d never gotten the best of me; that’s probably why he had to do this now. I’d managed to hurt his pride once again by refusing his very generous offer, I guess. I held him off as long as I could, and then he pulled out a knife. “Rico—” I started to tell him to back off, but he swung it inches from my face, and on the arc back the blade caught my cheek.
So what was I supposed to do?
I cracked my knuckles and let him have it.
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