The Bad Boy Arrangement

by Nora Flite

  “Fuck me harder,” I whispered in a voice I didn't recognize as my own. “Fuck me until I scream.”

  Panting, he pushed us to the bottom of the tub. The water cascaded over us, but his body blocked it, protecting me from the spray. “Spread your legs wider,” he growled, pressing my thighs into the porcelain.

  Quickly, I obeyed him. I could smell my own arousal, the steam making everything humid and heavy.

  He constrained me into the position he'd chosen. I was trapped, made to bend—to break—the way he desired. Blinded by my passion, I struggled to keep his face in focus. His cock plunged inside of me, filling me to the brim.

  My body was a live wire. I shuddered and twisted, hungry to keep his hot cock deep inside. Pleasure bloomed down my limbs, and I knew, when it hit my lower belly, I'd cum.

  “Scream,” he said, pumping faster—rougher. His hard pelvis ground against my clit, never relenting. He was pushing me towards orgasm whether I wanted it or not. “Scream for me, scream until you're hoarse.”

  His voice was a raw whisper. I let it consume me, rolling my cunt up to meet every one of his thrusts. Our voices echoed around us, the shower a constant rumble.

  The nerve endings inside of me went into overdrive; I whimpered helplessly, then took enough breaths to flood my lungs. I needed that air.

  I needed to scream.

  “Yes!” I squealed, my pussy convulsing over his hard length. “Fuck, yes! Yes!”

  After that, everything I said was broken, unrecognizable.

  Abell grunted, his forehead pressing on mine as he held me tight. I was still shaking, squeezing at his cock, when he started to cum. I didn't think he would pull out, but in my desperation, I locked my legs around him and rode out the waves of his orgasm.

  With every swing of his hips, the indents on his lower back flexed. I traced them, clung to him as his thick cum filled me until it over flowed.

  I felt it trickle down the inside of my thighs, mixing with the shower water.

  I wanted every bit of him, wanted him to be dry to the bone and emptied.

  His essence belonged to me. Only to me.

  Curling my nails in his wet hair, I kissed his cheek. “I love you,” I whispered.

  Lifting his head enough to see me, his eyes were ruthlessly honest. “I love you, too. More than you could ever know.”

  Smiling, I said softly, “I think I have some idea.”

  Tiny tremors still worked through my pussy. Especially when his shaft, still stiff somehow after his release, inched backwards. I groaned, listening to the noise when his cock escaped from my body.

  We'd wasted our shower. Luckily, we hadn't abandoned it yet. Abell stood carefully, then he reached down to help me to my feet. Together we washed up a second time, removing the evidence of our little escapade.

  Scrambling from the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel, scrubbing one over my head vigorously. The air was cool, tiny prickles rising on my drying skin.

  Abell had hung his towel around his hips. I paused, eating up the visual. He didn't hide his smirk, clearly enjoying how I was enjoying him.

  “You really like my ink, huh?” he asked, sliding into clean clothes from our dresser.

  “Of course I do. They're very... artsy, I guess.”

  Smiling tenderly, he nodded. “I got most of them after my mother passed. She always loved tattoos, too. Said it was exactly that, art for the body.”

  My hair was still damp, I tied it back in a wet bun. “I'm sure she would have loved all of them.”

  Abell stopped what he was doing, eyeing me like I'd said something he hadn't expected.

  Blushing at his scrutiny, I headed to my closet. Sliding into a fresh sundress, I pushed my feet into my black flats. Abell had already finished changing; a shame, I would have loved to ogle him more.

  “We'd better hurry,” I said. “We're pushing this whole 'arrive at least an hour before your flight' thing.” Grabbing the suitcase on the bed, I pulled it by the handle. One of the latches hadn't been closed; pants and underwear fluttered out, landing softly on the floor.

  Among the cloth, a heavier item clunked.

  “Wait!” Abell gasped, reaching for me.

  Kneeling, I picked up the smooth, thick book. “What's this?” Turning it in my hands, I peeled the cover back. Inside, a photo of my smiling face and creamy white wedding dress stared back.

  This is...

  Flipping the pages, I looked over another picture; this one had Abell feeding me cake. He'd used his hands, sliding his fingers in—and out—and in again, so I was bright red in the photo from embarrassment.

  Next to me, I felt the slight weight of Abell sitting on the rug.

  “It's our wedding,” I said in awe. We'd held it while I was still pregnant, so I'd been giant and round.

  I remembered how I'd felt awfully close to being a blimp, but Abell had told me I was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Flipping faster, I came across a new scene. Green walls, bright lights; a hospital.

  This was a glossy print of Abell. In his arms, he was cradling a sleeping, red faced Riley. He was wearing scrubs, and the look in his eyes—even through the paper—was pure adoration for his newly born daughter.

  “I wanted to surprise you on our trip.” His hand touched mine. “I know that neither of us had the typical loving family.” Reaching across, he gently caressed our daughter's face in the picture. “It's the first family photo album I've ever been a part of. I want her to remember everything we do together.”

  Looking up at him, I studied the face of the man I'd fallen so deeply for. “It's amazing. Abell, I love it!”

  He pulled me close for a gentle press of our warm lips. Against my skin he said, “I love you, Nix. And now,” he said, pulling me to my feet, shoving the suitcase back together. “We have a plane to catch, and a daughter to pack up still.”

  Covering my mouth, I hissed, “Oh, you're right. I didn't think about the extra time for that!” I snatched up my bag, hurrying down the hall to Riley's room. “Traveling as a family is kind of new for me!”

  “Me too.” Abel gently gathered up the sleeping baby, buckling her into her car seat. “Better get used to it. This won't be our last trip.”

  “No,” I agreed, leaning close to kiss each of them on the forehead. “And if we can't manage now, how will we do it when our family gets bigger?”

  Abell froze, staring at me with wide-eyed hope and wonder. “Are you... are you already...?”

  Winking, I grabbed the suitcases and ran down the stairs, laughing all the way to the car.

  It was so strange, I could only distantly remember thinking that the idea of this—being a mother, being a wife—didn't make sense.

  Now, I couldn't imagine a different life.

  This one was perfect.

  THE END

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  LAST OF THE BAD BOYS

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Nora Flite

  Copyright © 2014 Nora Flite

  All rights reserved.

  LAST OF THE BAD BOYS is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  - Chapter One -

  Huxton

  My name is Huxton. Huck, for short. Yes. I know you're already making the connection. I've heard every sing-song title and ridiculous joke there is.

  Huck, it rhymes with fuck.

  And isn't that just poetic?

  It had also been prophetic. Fitting. A name and a teasing rhyme that said volumes about my life. All I'd ever been good at was fighting and fucking. I excelled at both. It chased me and I chased it back. Years of the same routine.

  Some people would get bored of all the action.

  Those peop
le weren't me.

  Nothing could beat the way a fist felt when it collided with a jaw. Nothing compared to the sensation of making a woman vibrate when she came with my cock sheathed deep inside of her. I adored the rush of adrenaline, and honestly, sex and violence gave the same brand of rush. Combining them? Now, that was god damn magic.

  This was the life of a fucking bad boy. There were no roses here, not unless they were tattooed across some perfect skin. If people wanted romance, they called a dating service.

  If they wanted thick muscle, grinding hips, or both... they called me.

  I was always happy to answer.

  There was a drop of sweat dangling from her chin. I kept watching it, studying her breathing and wondering when that bit of liquid would finally fall. Every muscle—from her tensed feet to her throat—was taut as a drum.

  It was all my fault, really. I'd told Gina to hold still. Made it clear that if she moved, I'd walk right out of her home and never look back. You might call me cruel. That's true and false. I mean, I am a fucking bastard, but this whole set-up was Gina's idea.

  She had needs. And she paid out the nose to get them.

  Bending down, I blew air across her panties. The black silk was dark from her excitement, my breath turning the dampness cool where seconds ago it had been scalding. Gina gasped, and that time, the drop of sweat crashed to her collar bone.

  “Huxton,” she sobbed, writhing in place, not even blessed by cuffs to hold her down—that would have been too easy. “Fucking hell, you're killing me here.”

  “Killing you?” I chuckled, scraping my teeth over her inner thigh. She jumped, fingers clenching on the blanket. “You seem plenty alive to me, sweetheart.”

  The only binding on her luscious body was a blindfold. I'd insisted on that. I wanted her to lie in her bed and wonder if I was staring at her quaking tits or her parted thighs. I adored every part of a woman's body, I'd eaten the visual up and had seconds by now.

  Pushing my thumbs along the edge of her panties, I spread her—made her lips bloom so that the fabric slid between. Gina whimpered, vibrating with her need.

  Tugging the material upwards, I watched it encase the hard nub of her clit. It was so swollen I could see it through the silk, pleading with me to just kiss it. “God, you smell amazing,” I whispered.

  “Please stop teasing me, I can't take it!”

  “I think you can,” I chuckled. “I think you love it. You're soaking, beautiful. Your cunt is going wild. When was the last time you were fucked?”

  Pushing her cheek into the pillow, her ruby smile twitched. “Last week, when you visited me.”

  I clucked my tongue. “Just six days and you're this horny? I get why you called me. This pussy is starving...” Bending close, I licked her inner thigh. Gina jumped. “It needs attention, doesn't it?”

  “Yes! God, yes!”

  “Then say please.” Pulling her panties lower, I stopped when just her clit was exposed.

  Writhing, her toes clenching, Gina sobbed. “I've been saying please!”

  “Say it again,” I scolded, nuzzling right beside her cunt.

  Of course, she was more than happy to follow orders. I wondered if anyone in the nearby apartments would hear her scream. “Please! Please, Huck, just fuck me!”

  She couldn't see my smile. “Good girl, much better.”

  Licking straight up her silk panties to her vulnerable clit, I thrilled at how she groaned. Gina clawed at me, unable to follow the rules. That was fine; they were meant for her, not me.

  I loved when my clients lost control.

  Ripping her blindfold away, she grabbed at my shoulders. “More, give me more!”

  One easy snap, I tore her underwear clean off of her. They were thrown aside, useless. Pushing her thighs open for better access, I stuffed my face into her cunt and went to town. Her juices ran down my chin, I lapped them eagerly.

  Gina trembled, digging into my back. Amazingly, she didn't leave marks. “You ready for my cock, babe?”

  Her lips were thick, slightly parted. The fierce daze in her eyes made her look desperate. It was magical. “Fuck me, Huxton. Just... god, fuck me!”

  Stroking myself through my briefs, I growled. “You missed me that badly, huh?”

  “You're all I thought of all week.”

  Smirking, my fingers curled into my underwear. “All week?”

  She nodded eagerly. “All fucking week.”

  My cock bounced into the air. It arched proudly, the tip sticky with my pre-come. “This is what you thought of? Did you imagine me every single night while you played with your beautiful pussy?”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit her lip. “Over and over, now stop teasing me, it's murder.”

  With a practiced hand, I peeled the condom I'd set on the nightstand down my length. It turned my skin shiny, and unlike most guys, it excited me.

  Condoms signaled the time for fun.

  Rolling my hips, my cock-head slid along her soaked entrance. “I'd hate for you to think I'm so cruel.” Gritting my teeth, I fisted myself and pushed into her excited pussy. There was no resistance.

  Instantly, Gina moaned. An animal in heat, she wrapped me in her arms and thrust faster than my own tempo. I let her take control... but not because I preferred it. No, I loved ruining women, making them so excited they just babbled in my ear.

  But tonight, I was out of time.

  I had somewhere to be.

  Panting, she rubbed her cheek on my temple. “Huck, you feel—god, you're amazing!” Grinding violently, she hooked her legs and clamped on. I wondered, if I'd tried to slide free, if I even could have.

  I shivered, my balls already tightening. I liked it rough, so did Gina. She was one of my favorite clients for a reason.

  Even through the condom, her cunt was milking me. She'd been on edge so long, her release wasn't far. She was a fan of foreplay, and I'd been teasing her for over an hour.

  I observed her breathing, her heart. I paid attention to every little thing. My job was to make women happy, and I did it with gusto.

  “Fuck!” she squealed, holding onto me for dear life. Heat tingled through her wet walls. It sank into me, my cock flexing with need. I wanted to come, I needed to come.

  It was an addiction... but one that was easily solved.

  Escorting gave me many opportunities.

  Reaching back, I squeezed her ass and bit her shoulder. That was it, Gina was done. Moaning into my ear, she shook and crumpled like a leaf on the wind. Her cunt thrummed, crushing me and sending me over the edge.

  Closing my eyes, sparks filled my skull. The pressure in my belly hit its peak, my thick jizz filling the condom. Wave after wave, I pulsed—and she matched me.

  I slid out with a wince, gazing down on her elegant face. As delicious as Gina's lips looked, I never kissed my clients. It was too intimate. Too risky.

  I'd had more than one woman fall for me. It was bad for business.

  Sighing contently, she stretched on the bed and smiled. “You're amazing. Every time, it's just... Yeah. I can't even explain.”

  Grinning, I unfurled the condom and dropped it in the trash. In the bathroom nearby, I washed myself quickly, drying my skin. “Glad you liked it. That's my goal.”

  Slipping back into her room, I gathered my things. I'd piled them in the corner, save for the blindfold that had drifted to the floor. My clothes were a mess, I scooped up my shirt and tugged my head through it.

  Gliding my jeans up my legs, I caught Gina splaying herself over the bed. Tempting me to come back and fuck that pretty pussy until she couldn't walk. “Now, who's killing who?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  She flashed me a wide grin. “Stay, play some more. I'll pay extra.”

  Standing tall, I swooped over her like a giant hawk. Hands cupped her long neck, drawing forth a hushed moan. “You would, that's for fucking sure.” Kissing her shoulder, a quick snap of teeth and tongue, I pulled away. Gina was breathing heavy all over again. I really w
ould have loved to bend her over for another round. “I have a gig,” I said, shifting my furious hard-on in my pants.

  She saw me do it, licked her plump limps. “Ugh, fine. But the instant you walk out that door, I'll be getting myself off.”

  This was a funny way to make me feel guilty. Smirking, I started to tie my boots on. “Why wait?” Setting my eyes on her fiercely, I didn't look away. “Go on, babe. Play with your insatiable cunt for me. I'll be right here.”

  Red as a beet, Gina didn't waste any time. Spreading her knees, she opened herself for me and rapidly stroked her clit. It was easy to see from where I was, every bit of her was swollen from my games. “Fuck you,” she panted.

  Laughing, I shrugged into my jacket and grabbed my bag. “Next time.” With her frustrated groans tickling my brain, I left her there and stepped out into the air.

  It was warm for December, but California always was. Doesn't help that my blood is still boiling, I mused, looking for a way to sit comfortably on my motorcycle with my erection hounding me.

  It took me a minute or two, but I calmed enough to rev the bike and pull out onto the road. I wasn't lying, I did have a gig—and for once, it wasn't fucking or fighting. An old friend had called, a lady I hadn't heard from in sometime.

  Eliza had fallen off the map. Lots of women became lost to me over time. Her and I, though, we'd had a bit of a different relationship. She was one of the few women I'd spent time with that I hadn't fucked.

  A rare occurrence.

  Rumbling down the freeway, I thought about what she'd hired me for. Apparently, her new roommate was having a birthday. Eliza had called an 'entertainer' but the guy had stopped responding to her calls and emails. It was nice that she'd thought of me. Stripping wasn't far off from escorting, no matter what the prudes might claim. I knew enough former dancers to see the connected lines.

  And Eliza? What was she doing with her life, now? I knew this game of flesh for cash, I was deep in it. Few people ever got out. Perhaps she had, though. Maybe that was why I hadn't heard from her in so long. If you didn't need a bodyguard to watch your back while you were fucking in a filthy hotel room, then you had to be doing something else. Something better.