by Gabi Moore
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 - Anthony
Chapter 2 - Ellie
Chapter 3 - Todd
Chapter 4 - Charlie
Chapter 5 - Ellie
Chapter 6 - Todd
Chapter 7 - Anthony
Chapter 8 - Ellie
Chapter 9 - Charlie
Chapter 10 - Anthony
Chapter 11 - Todd
Chapter 12 - Ellie
Chapter 13 - Charlie
Chapter 14 - Anthony
Chapter 15 - Todd
Chapter 16 - Ellie
Chapter 17 - Anthony
Chapter 18 - Todd
Chapter 19 - Charlie
Chapter 20 - Ellie
Chapter 21 - Todd
Chapter 22 - Ellie
Chapter 23 - Todd
Epilogue - Ellie
Shipwrecked & Horny
A What Could Possibly Go Wrong Bad Boy Romance
Gabi Moore
Contents
About the Author
1. Chapter 1 - Anthony
2. Chapter 2 - Ellie
3. Chapter 3 - Todd
4. Chapter 4 - Charlie
5. Chapter 5 - Ellie
6. Chapter 6 - Todd
7. Chapter 7 - Anthony
8. Chapter 8 - Ellie
9. Chapter 9 - Charlie
10. Chapter 10 - Anthony
11. Chapter 11 - Todd
12. Chapter 12 - Ellie
13. Chapter 13 - Charlie
14. Chapter 14 - Anthony
15. Chapter 15 - Todd
16. Chapter 16 - Ellie
17. Chapter 17 - Anthony
18. Chapter 18 - Todd
19. Chapter 19 - Charlie
20. Chapter 20 - Ellie
21. Chapter 21 - Todd
22. Chapter 22 - Ellie
23. Chapter 23 - Todd
24. Epilogue - Ellie
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
Faerie Rift
Star-Reach
A New Dawn
Manipulator of Elements
STEAMY BAD BOY ROMANCE
Break
Surrender
Doing It Faster
Damaged
Unholy
Rough
BAD BOYS AFTER DARK
BAD BOY BONUS BOOK
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Gabi Moore. All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Created with Vellum
About the Author
Hey there! I’m Gabi Moore and I’m on a mission to love like I’ve never been hurt, dance like nobody’s watching and write sex scenes like my mother didn’t raise me right.
I write about some of the naughty things I’ve done, and some of the naughty things I still wish I could do. Some days, I forget which is which.
I like coffee and men with accents. And lately, I’ve been trying to give up dirty puns …but it’s hard.
So hard.
PS: Don’t forget to enjoy the steamy bonus books in the table of contents! ;)
- Gabi Moore
Join me on Facebook:
authorgabimoore
Chapter 1 - Anthony
That’s a filthy habit,” I say and make sure she sees the kink in my eyebrows.
“Well, then it’ll keep all my other filthy habits company, won’t it?” she said, and gave me a defiant smile. It was our standard in-joke. Our already-a-married-couple routine that I could never admit actually irritated the hell out of me. She blew a band of smoke off to the side and let her lips stay pouted.
“Reckless behavior is cute when you’re a teenager, Ellie, but not so much at our age,” I said at her attempt to be funny. She scowled, stubbed the cigarette out and flopped restlessly down onto the bed.
“Unpacked already?” I asked.
“Nah, I’ll do it later.”
I had already told myself that I would let little things like this pass. Any marriage needs to be able to survive things like this. Any marriage must have compromise. And me grinning and bearing the fact that Ellie sometimes behaved like an overgrown 5-year-old was just one of those compromises.
“Ok, well, just don’t leave it too late,” I said. Then she gave me that look. I decided to be the better man and let it go. We were here to have fun, after all. We were here on a vacation. If she needed to get stuff like this out of her system, then fine, let her do it. She was only 25. Young in a sense, sure. But old enough.
I wasn’t some kind of monster; I understood her need to still get out there and experience the world. Hell, I was even paying for it. A two-week luxury holiday on a cruise ship that she had jokingly called a ‘farewell to her old life’. Look, I’m a grown man, so I pretended at the time that that didn’t sting. But I had to be realistic, too. Ellie was the perfect woman, in every way. But there was one glaring problem that needed to be resolved before we committed to one another properly, and if we didn’t resolve it on this little vacation, then I wasn’t sure what other options we had.
The agreement was that she got to let her hair down a little before the wedding and I got a few more months to save for the house down payment the following year. Fine. But I still couldn’t escape the feeling that with this vacation we had both quietly put each other on probation. I would be looking to see if she was truly willing to take our marriage seriously and actually had it in her to be a mother and wife, and she would be …well, that part wasn’t as clear to me yet.
I lifted a pile of folded shirts from my bag and carefully carried them over to the cupboard. She was rolling around on the bed, getting everything badly crinkled. Now she had a brochure in her hand that she had fished from the nightstand, and was looking at it with interest.
“Oh look, salsa!” she squealed.
“No way,” I said, placed the shirts neatly down and turned to face her.
She was grinning.
“Oh come on, please? Look, they have this fun class this evening, we can go. It says it’s fine for beginners… it’s at 8, come on let’s go!”
“But I can’t dance,” I said and started packing my trousers away.
“But that’s the point! They teach you. It says here that afterwards it’s just a normal party and you dance what you’ve learnt and have fun,” she said, kicking her legs up like a schoolgirl.
“Even worse,” I grumbled. This time she didn’t have to give me a look.
“Sorry, sorry, you’re right, it’s just …can we try something else maybe? Something less nerve-wracking? I swear I saw a wine tasting thing, what about that?”
She sighed and flipped through the glossy brochure.
“You know, if I’m going to give up a vice for this trip, the least you could do is pick one up.”
I smiled. She really was a pretty woman.
“Ok, ok, fine.”
I took a deep breath, closed the cupboard door and sat next to her on the bed. It was just after 5. On the one hand, I was almost certain a dance class would be unbearably awkward and embarrassing for everyone involved. But on the other, it might prove enough of a distraction this evening so we didn’t have to …have sex.
Don’t get me wrong, sex wit
h Ellie is lovely. She’s the perfect woman, in that regard, and I have no complaints. But I was tired. It had been a long drive over to the harbor and a lot of stress boarding and unpacking. I just wanted to relax now.
“Do we need to wear any special footwear?” I said and leant forward to give her a peck on her forehead.
“So that’s a yes?” she laughed and sprang off the bed. Christ, I hated when she was like this. Treating me like I was the designated anti-fun ogre, when in truth, she was the one who forced me into that role because without fail, she was unwilling to commit to a damn thing in this world, and follow through with it.
“Of course. We’re on vacation, aren’t we?” I said, and jumped up to do a little impromptu salsa twirl in our room.
I let her fuss over me and kiss my head and dance around the room a little, hands linked to mine. She was one of those women that actually looked completely different depending on whether she smiled or not. When she laughed, her whole face opened up and glowed. Her eyes were a soft, hazy green, like sea glass, and her hair was that kind of grey-blonde that looked like a stronger color that had just been through a few washes. I loved seeing her flat, cold face light up like that. When I proposed to her, I told her that I would gladly make that my life’s purpose: to make her smile. And I meant it.
Ellie had a troubled past, and she was still learning that not every pleasure had to nearly kill her to be worth pursuing… but I digress. I had promised her that if she agreed to quit smoking for these two weeks, I’d quit ‘criticizing’ the other dozen bad habits she had. I didn’t want to rush her. I wanted her to see the value of personal growth for its own sake. I would give her time, and I’d give her all the opportunity she needed. And after she realized that an empty existence of drinking and bingeing and smoking weren’t as satisfying as she thought, I’d be there, waiting for her to start a proper life together.
I walked around the room and took inventory.
“If this room was just in a regular hotel, they’d never be able to charge what they do,” I said and looked down at the complimentary toiletries on the counter.
“But it’s not in a regular hotel,” she said. “It’s floating in the middle of the ocean.”
I peeked around the bathroom wall to see her fish out a sundress and leave the rest of her bag crumpled and unpacked, right in the middle of the bed.
“Fair enough,” I said and went to poke my head out the tiny round window. But there was the truth right there: Ellie’s spontaneous ocean liner adventure came with a cost. Nearly 50% extra, from my quick calculations, and for a room that showed no signs of having more than one power outlet.
I walked into the main room again and saw her standing expectantly, stripped down to her bra and panties and holding the sundress in her hands. She smiled at me smiling.
“That’s …that’s very pretty. Did I buy you that?” I asked. She did a slow twirl.
“Nope, I bought it especially for our trip…” she said, and sauntered up to me. I placed gentle hands over her soft curves and leaned in for a kiss.
“As you can see, though, I didn’t quite lose all my Christmas weight so I just had to bring my fat rolls along for a vacation, too!”
I pulled her in close, gave her neck a kiss and smiled.
“Shh, that’s my fiancé you’re talking about”
She was right of course. She had put on a few pounds with the stress of the last year, but I didn’t care. In fact, I loved the womanly softness the extra weight gave her hips and belly. It’ll sound awful, but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing that she was finally eating properly, that she was well-fed. I wanted her to relax and let me take care of her.
Her face was lit up with that big smile again. She really did love going on ‘adventures’. She stood up on her tip toes and leaned in for a deep kiss. I placed a tender hand at the base of her skull and cradled her there, sharing a sweet, silent moment with her.
“We should go out on deck and have a look at those little shops we saw coming in,” I said, smoothing down her hair.
“I don’t care about the little shops,” she grinned, and tried to kiss me again. I laughed.
“What about having an adventure, hm? What about all those activities you wanted to do?”
“Fuck the activities,” she said and snaked her hands along my sides, a devilish look on her face.
“That’s no way for a lady to speak, where are your manners?” I teased.
“Fuck manners,” she said naughtily. “And fuck me…”
Here she grabbed my hips and pulled me hard against her crotch, grinding into me. Ok. Fine. Sex and salsa. I did say I would compromise, I guess. I leaned in for another kiss and let her unbutton my trousers.
Her greedy little tongue kissed me absentmindedly as her hands worked to peel my clothing off. I stood, letting her do her thing. I plonked her bag off the bed and lay down, beckoning her to join me. But she didn’t. Instead, she gave her hair a flick and started to wiggle her hips a little, stripper style. It wasn’t our usual thing, but we were on holiday, I guess. I leant my head back into my hands and watched her with a smile. She peered at me from out under a lock of hair, then slinked off her bra and then her panties.
Ellie had the perfect breasts. They were the softest, fullest things in the universe, smooth and pink and perfect and so plump on the bottom they were nearly spherical.
I smiled.
“Baby, you don’t have to do this…”
“I know,” she said quickly, and ran her hands up and down her body.
She could easily see the effect this had on me. Women like Ellie have learnt that they need to degrade themselves to be loved, but I would teach her that none of this stuff was necessary. Her body was beautiful and pure just the way it was. Besides, I didn’t like thinking about where she had learnt to do any of this stuff in the first place.
“Stop teasing and get over here,” I growled.
She giggled as I pulled her down to the bed and kissed her, my hand finding its way down between her milky thighs. She was already a little wet. My fingers stroked gently around that sweet little slit, before going in a little deeper, to those places I knew made her moan the loudest. She grew wetter. I will never understand why our standard sex routine was supposed to suddenly become something more magical simply because we made love on a different bed, but I could see how quickly she was responding to me, so, I guess it was worth coming all the way out here.
After she was completely wet and receptive, I lay back and let her hop on top of me, and I gently slid my cock into her, watching the expression on her face twitch and change as her hips lowered to take all of me in. We had been together a good few years, but I never got tired of that feeling. All her weight relaxed fully on to my groin, she smiled broadly and began to swivel her hips, her clit playing against the base of my cock. I held her hips and smiled back up at her. This was still one of my favorite ways of making her smile.
She arched her back and let her hair tumble down her back, the tips grazing against my fingertips. I squeezed and rolled her full ass cheeks in my hands and let her ride me. This was our favorite position, the one that always made her come, no matter what. But as for me…
“You OK, baby…?” she breathed into my ear.
“I’m good,” I said. She just shouldn’t ask. I hated it when she fucking asked. Everything was already half over once she asked.
She let her head fall back again and groaned. I could feel inside how her body was tightening up to an orgasm, and I dutifully lifted my hips up into her to stroke her off the edge. She came easily, but quietly. She froze on top of me, clawed a little at my chest and then, once her breathing came to normal again, she glanced down at me and smiled.
“Mmm…”
“Was that good?” I said and twirled my hips against her, still deep inside.
“Uh huh,” she said, nibbled her lower lip and then started grinding again.
“You wanna keep going?”
“Uh
huh.”
I could feel myself going limp inside her, but I picked up the pace and drove the tip of my cock deep up and into her. I felt the shudder as it travelled down her spine. Perching up on the balls of her feet, she spread her hands wide over my chest and balanced there, lowering just a few inches at a time down onto me again, stroking my cock with each up thrust and sliding slowly back down onto it again. It was hot. She was hot. But it just wasn’t working.
“Baby? You OK?” she said, and glanced down.
I grabbed her and pulled her off. Asking like that, with that particular tone of voice, totally killed the mood, but looking down at me like I was some injured puppy really sealed the deal.
“I’m good, I’m fine, just tired,” I said, and guided her to lay next to me. My hands slipped between her thighs again, hoping at least another orgasm for her would take the attention off of me. She had a concerned little frown on her face, and reached out her hand to stroke my brow. Now that was what I found the most infuriating of all. Not that my cock chose the worst possible times to stop working. Not the agonizing stress of it all. But the pity. I gently pushed her hand away.
“Just tired baby, really,” I said and pushed a smile. She smiled back and tried to act casual.
“What about you though?” I said and tried to glide my fingers back over that now juicy spot between her legs.
She shrugged.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m good” she said and curled up against me. “That was nice though,” she said. For some reason, those words seemed to burn the most. I said nothing. After a few moments, she sighed loudly and got up, smoothed her hair out and rummaged around for her underwear. She was just going to put it all back on again. Without even taking a shower. The same bra and panties she had just been wearing.
“Shall we head out?” she said with a simple smile. “I’ll just get my shoes.”
I watched as she flitted around the room with this and that. I made a mental note to complain about the size of this room to management later. That the bathroom was no way what the online photos suggested it would be. And that the tiny little round window was actually in the worst possible position, just sitting stupidly right over the bed; why would anybody design a room like that? And then have the nerve to call it ‘luxury’ and charge a fortune to stay in it?
