And yes, her intelligence grips me by the balls just as much as that curvy body. Somewhere during our courtship, the brunette blossomed into her true sassy self, and shit, but when she handed my gonads to me during that last confrontation, I was scared. I was terrified that Holly was going to walk right out of my life, and that was before I knew she was carrying our child.
But my woman has good judgment, and she’s able to make excellent decisions. Because the minute that diamond ring appeared, it was clear my words were true. I had every intention of hunting her down and making the female mine. Holly’s visit had merely pushed things forward dramatically, shortening the timeline.
But all’s well that end’s well. The Nick Ryver bullshit is nothing, and the “top secret” information he was so intent of getting? Most of it was just drivel. My attorneys stamp almost every paper with the words “Privileged and Confidential,” so the stuff he had on tape was mundane business, nothing that was going to rock his world.
And poor Katrina, his ex-girlfriend. I say ex because the minute Holly stopped talking to her, she was dumped like a rotten tomato. But Holly’s been working with her friend because Katrina had been used too. Frankly, that girl’s too dumb to mastermind anything crazy, she’d been nothing but a pawn in Ryver’s sick game. Hopefully, with my wife’s help, she loses her taste for seventy year-old trolls and meets a decent guy her own age.
But in the meantime, I’ve still got my curvy female to attend to. At the moment, she was on her hands and knees, moaning as I slid my fingers deep into her vaginal channel, feeling the walls pulse around me.
“Oh yes,” the woman moaned, her belly so big that I’d slipped a cushion beneath to provide support. “Oh yes.”
And with a jerk of her hips and a sudden cry, the tremors began. Her sweet pussy clamped down on my hand, once, hard, before shaking like an earthquake gone mad.
“Thorn!” she cried. “Thorn, now!”
And right on cue, I slipped my fingers out of her pussy, moving them upwards to toy with her anus before pushing once, hard, and driving them deep into that sweet brown hole. Oh yeah, my baby likes getting her ass fingered, and it’s best when the torrent has already started. Her body’s loose, my fingers are lubed from pussy juice, and shit, but that hole is tight.
“Unnnnh!” my baby cried, her voice muffled by the pillow. “Oh unnnnh! Thorn!”
And with that, Holly exploded altogether. Her curvy frame shook, boobs swaying as orgasm wracked that frame.
“Oh Thorn!” my name erupted from her throat. “Thorn Thorn Thorn!”
And never has any music sounded so sweet to my ears. Because this is my woman, and I’m her man. The female started as a flight attendant on my private airline, morphing into an alleged spy. But my sweet Holly is no spy, engaged in the world of darkness. She’s my wife now, and the mother of my child. She’s the star that I sail my ship by, and her light will carry us forwards on rocky waves … together forever.
THE END
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My Mom’s Fiancé
A Dark Bad Boy Romance
© 2017
By Cassandra Dee
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DEDICATION
To all the dirty girls who’ve done something illicit.
This book’s for you!
ABOUT THIS BOOK
MY MOM’S FIANCE: AN EROTIC ROMANCE
I have a secret. I hooked up with my mom’s fiancé!
One night at a bar, I got it on with an older guy.
He had a huge pole, a shaft that made me wet.
It was so good and absolutely yummy.
But the next day, I found out that Jake was engaged … TO MY MOM!
Holy $hit!!!
He’s gonna be my stepdad?
We just f*cked last night. How can he be getting married to my mom now?
But it just kept happening.
We hooked up again.
And again.
At the engagement party.
At the bridal shower.
Even at the wedding itself.
It’s filthy, absolutely dirty and disgusting.
But I want my mom’s hunky fiancé so bad …
CHAPTER ONE
Lacey
I didn’t even know why I said yes to my friends about going out to the bar.
Denise and Jenna, professional freshmen partiers and my best friends, are forever trying to get me to go out with them to one club or another on the weekends. But I usually say no. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem going to the movies with them or the coffee shop where that tatted and pierced hipster guy works behind the counter. Bars and clubs though, are not my scene.
“Come on, relax and have a drink,” Denise practically screamed over the loud music. She bumped my hip with her own and grinned, already two beers and one shot down the hatch. Her tight tube dress showed off a shape so curvy that a pumpkin would give its right arm to be her.
“More shots!” Jenna danced over from the bar and through the crowd. With a slick smile, she slid a little tray of rainbow colored drinks onto our high top table. Oh no, the rainbow colored ones are always the worst, sure to be filled with the purest alcohol, mixed with only a tiny bit of fruit juice.
But no matter. The music pumped hard and energetic around us and Jenna wiggled her tiny backside to the beat. “The bartender made them just for us,” she called. “They’re special.” Of course, there were at least nine shots on the tray.
She looked over her shoulder and winked at the bartender, a sleazy looking dude in a beanie, with tats on his face. Really? I love tats as much as the next girl, but the one square on his right cheek pretty much eliminated him from most jobs. Sheesh. Shaking my head, I stayed silent. Jenna’s taste in men has always been bizarre.
“Here, Lacey. Your first shot of the night.” Denise shoved the drink towards me and took one for herself. She quickly downed one and then threw her head back with a wild yelp.
“Shit! These are strong.” Another shriek, then another shot. She was going to be so wasted.
“Hell yeah, they’re strong.” Jenna jumped up and down to the dub step beat, blonde hair flying. “My boy totally hooked us up.”
I was cringing and taking sips of my drink, trying to force it down when suddenly Denise grabbed my arm in mid-air. What in the world? These girls always want me to imbibe more, so this was weird.
But her attention was elsewhere, laser-focused and awestruck.
“Oh my God. You won’t believe what I’m looking at.” The brunette already had a third glass in her hand but it hovered near her mouth as she stared at something over my shoulder. “That VIP monster is ridiculous.”
“What?” Jenna turned around so fast I was surprised she didn’t get whiplash.
But I downed my drink and looked too. Why not? If I was supposed to be having college girl fun instead of being my usual boring self, I could play the part completely. Turning around, I just about dropped my empty shot glass, fingers numb and limp.
Because ridiculous was right.
Jenna didn’t even have to point out who she was talking about. Sure, I’m a virgin and haven’t seen any dicks outside of magazines and porn, but for sure, the tall guy sitting alone in the upstairs VIP lounge had an anaconda in his pants. Even in the suit and tie—who the hell wore a suit and tie to a club like this anyways?—I could see the clear outline of a heavy cock that went down practically to his damn knee. Oh god!
“You think it’s real?” Jenna asked with a giggle.
Denise snorted. “Who walks around a club with a fake dick?”
“Some guy on a reality show did it to get chicks,” Jenna purred coyly, eyeing the stranger hungrily. “Once he got them in bed,
he’d only do them from behind so they wouldn’t see that it was a strap on.”
Holy shit, really? Guys go to lengths like that? My eyes went wide, mouth hanging open.
But neither of my friends were fazed.
“That’s dumb,” Denise shouted back over the music. “Then he didn’t even get to feel what it was like to fuck them.”
“Yeah,” I said, piping up in a small voice. “Guys can be so lame,” was my comment, though I didn’t have any real experience.
By now, all three of us were staring at the anaconda guy. Because how could we not? The VIP area was full but he was only one sitting alone. The white cloth over the table in front of him had a champagne bucket with an open bottle and one glass next to it.
In contrast, the rest of the VIP area was full, a few couples but mostly what looked like a bunch of college kids spending daddy’s money on bottle service. There was a lot of big hair, gold chains, and muscle shirts.
“I bet his dick is real though,” Jenna said and shoved me toward the VIP. “You should go find out, Lacey,” the blonde giggled. Even though she and Denise went out every weekend and hooked up with any guys they wanted, I wasn’t like that. She knew it too.
“What? Why me?” came my gasp. But my stomach twisted in knots at the idea. This guy didn’t just have a big dick, he was hot in that older guy way. From what I could see from across the room, his dark hair was brushed with silver at the temples and his body under the suit looked tight and fit. No steak belly on him.
“Yeah, you should,” Denise chimed in, playfully pinching my butt. “This is the perfect chance for you to have a little fun before you lock yourself back up in the library. He’s hot and you look totally cute tonight.”
I sighed. Sometimes, I don’t even know why or how these girls and I are friends. We’re so different in every way. They love to party and have sex while barely getting by in school, while I’m focused on my books, intent on graduating with honors.
But somehow it works. I love them and they love me. And right now, they were set on proving their love by siccing me on some stranger in a suit.
“Come on, guys,” I protested. “You know that’s not me.” But the longer I stared at the stranger, the more my pussy tingled. What would that giant piece of meat look like outside of his pants?
Denise pinched my butt again, making me jerk.
“I see that look on your face, Lacey. You totally want him.”
Jenna passed me another shot. “Liquid courage, baby doll.” She grabbed my hand and practically forced the liquor into my mouth. The shot slid hot and quick down my throat, warming me on its way down and settling in my belly like a small flame. My body flushed and I was already starting to feel the effect of the drinks, getting spacey and loose, head swimming.
“Go get him, Lace!” Denise nudged me again in the direction of the VIP.
But not so quick because a smarmy voice blared in back of us.
“Hey, what are you girls doing?”
Oh no, what the hell? Mister tattoo-face bartender appeared at the table and draped an arm each around Denise and Jenna, grinning at them and leering at me. That was all the excuse I needed to get away. I didn’t want to be near the bartender, especially since up close, I could see that he was totally soused and already grabbing my friends’ private parts. Gross.
So taking a deep breath, I made my way over to the guy, ass swaying in Jenna’s four inch stilettos. My dress brushed the tops of my knees and was one of my sexier outfits even though Jenna said I looked like a librarian in it. At least I’d left my glasses at home.
Concentrating on walking in the unfamiliar heels, I made my way through the crowd and up the flight of stairs to the VIP area where the guy sat alone watching dancers gyrate under strobe lights.
“Hey,” I said when I arrived after what felt like forever. Oh no. What a lame greeting. Maybe I should have said something sexier and coy, like “Heeey,” or “Heyyyy?”
But the damage was done, and besides, liquor was now running like a river through my veins. Looking at the alpha, my body tingled, sizzling with a burn.
Because up close, he was even hotter than before. Like crazy, mindblowingly hot. Definitely over forty, with more gray in his hair than I saw from across the room. He had a wicked cleft in his chin and gleaming blue eyes.
And whaddya know, but the alpha was expecting me.
“Hey, princess,” came a low, smooth rumble. Bright blue laser beams ran all over my body, touching me everywhere. My tits, my waist, and even under my skirt where I felt myself getting wet just from his focused attention. “What can I do for you?”
Oh god. He was the kind of guy you’d see in GQ with his suit and handsome face, an expensive watch that might have been a Rolex on a thick, masculine wrist. His hands were big and powerful, fingernails manicured and clean. I shivered and imagined him running those palms all over my body, touching everywhere.
But what was I thinking? This guy was way out of my league. He probably had a girlfriend nearby or something. Or at least a hundred other girls prettier than me ready to do anything he wanted.
So I mumbled and looked down, words tripping out of my mouth.
“Um…do you want to dance?” came my blurted question. Oh god, oh god, how lame! It was like we were at a Sadie Hawkins dance, and I was the tongue-tied awkward teenage girl asking out the hunky football player.
Even in the low light, I could see his blue eyes glitter with laughter.
“No, baby. I don’t want to dance. At least not the kind of dancing you’re after.” He moved over on the wide velvet bench, making room for me. “Have a seat?”
Well at least he hadn’t kicked me out on the spot, and taking a deep breath, I maneuvered my curvy form down on the cushion next to him, hoping that I didn’t make the whole thing jounce up and down.
But I was overwhelmed by Mr. VIP immediately. He smelled so good. Clean and cool, with an underlying masculine musk that made the pulse drum in my neck and between my legs. I just about melted, blushing, thinking anyone could see how he made me burn. But no one seemed to be paying attention.
Because each VIP booth was separate and semi-private. Even though we could see down to the dance floor and the people down there could see us if they really looked, it felt like we were in our own mini-world. The music thumped like a runaway heartbeat. The booth next to us was loud with the laughter of a half dozen or so people, but I couldn’t see them and I was sure they couldn’t see us.
Hesitantly, I bit my lip.
“Hi, I’m Lacey,” was my low murmur.
He turned completely to face me then, putting his back to the rest of the club, and braced a massive arm against the table. I felt trapped between his big, warm body and the velvet of the bench. A good kind of trapped.
“That doesn’t really matter, does it?” came his low, smooth growl again.
What in the world? Was he insulting my name? Gulping, I stared at him again.
“What do you mean?” was my murmur, tentatively licking my lips. What did I just get myself into?
I shifted against the bench, squirming uncomfortably at the heat between my thighs. And those piercing blue eyes took it all in knowingly, like he could read my mind. Just like before, he shot a long, appraising look at my boobs, mentally weighing them, before dropping his gaze to the vee between my legs, shadowy and secret.
Oh god, the air was so hot, my cunt already creaming moistly. Could he smell it? Was my wet pussy scent evident? I twisted uncomfortably again, boobs heaving and falling even as I tried to look casual.
Those male nostrils flared slightly, the gleam in his eyes becoming deeper as he sniffed. But Mr. VIP didn’t mention it, to my eternal thanks. Instead, he asked me a question.
“Did you come all the way over here for conversation?”
I stammered.
“I just came to ask you to dance,” was my reply.
He moved then, thigh brushing mine. It was the same thigh that had his hard dick pressed alo
ngside it, the ridge impossible to miss. Barely able to speak, my eyes flitted to the bulging mass before meeting his again. How did he manage to fit that thing into his pants, much less into a woman?
But the alpha was still in control.
“And I told you I don’t dance,” came his smooth reply. “My turn to ask you a question then.” He pressed in closer, that whiskey-laced breath warm and sweet on my cheek. “Do you want to fuck?”
I gasped, unable to hide my shock at his boldness.
“Wh-what? I’m sorry?”
No way I could have heard right. But the gleam in his eyes only grew deeper and darker, turning the ice blue a pitch black.
“You heard me, princess.”
I couldn’t help but notice his dick getting harder and filling out in those slacks. “If you’re game, I want to fuck,” he said. “Your tits look hot in that dress and I’d love to feel them on my face.” A finger reached over the already small space between us and flicked at the shadow between my breasts. “I’d love to rub my cock between them and fuck them until I come.” His hand slid over my knee and under the dress. “You’d look so fucking good with my cum dripping around your neck like pearls.”
Oh my god. A shiver took over my entire body. All I wanted to do was say yes to him. Yes to his dick ramming between my tits until it spurted hot and wet all over me. Yes to his semen dribbling down my neck, bubbly and sticky. Yes to just about anything he wanted.
But still, this was reality. We were in a crowded club, and there wasn’t any way to get down.
“I don’t think—” and I had to lick my lips again because they were so dry from me being nervous. “I don’t think you can give me a pearl necklace here in front of all these people.” But the image had already burned itself into my mind’s eye, tantalizing and hot.
“Maybe not, but I could fuck you here though.” His hand reached the crotch of my panties and I gasped, shivering as his fingers rubbed my already swollen clit through the cloth. “What do you think about that?”
Love Unbound Page 55
