by Rye Hart
I pulled back and smiled. “But the seat warmer isn’t even turned on.”
“I know,” she said. “But I am.”
CHAPTER TWENTY: TYLER
Maggie and I barely got in the door before we were tearing at each other’s clothes. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine. Her tongue darted into my mouth and ran across my lips. She sunk her teeth into my bottom lip and gave it a little tug.
The next thing I knew, she had jumped up and wrapped her legs around my waist. I fell back against the wall and dug my fingers into her ass. I kicked the front door closed and she clung to me as I carried her up the stairs to my bedroom.
I literally threw Maggie on the bed and ordered her to strip. There was no time for gentle foreplay, not tonight. I tore off my shirt and kicked my boots across the room. They hit the wall and landed on the floor with a loud thud.
Maggie was even quicker than me. She was a blur, stripping off her clothes and tossing them aside. She jumped on the bed and held out her arms. She wiggled her fingers at me. “Come on, slowpoke!”
“I’ll give you a slow poke,” I said with a grin. I peeled off my jeans and underwear and dove on top of her still wearing my socks. She bounced and giggled beneath me. My beard was tickling her chin. She brushed it out of her face and pretended to spit hair.
“You need to trim that thing,” she said with a grin.
“Oh no, it will grow until the day I die.”
“We’ll see about that.” She used two fingers to brush my moustache away from my mouth. “As long as I can get to these lips, I’ll be okay.”
“Fair enough,” I said, pressing my lips to hers, my stiff cock rubbing against her mound. She spread her legs and bent her knees and breathed in my ear.
“Don’t you ever leave me again,” I said.
“I won’t ever leave you again,” she said, closing her eyes as my shaft slid back and forth over her wet folds. I could feel her hot juices soaking my cock and balls. Her breasts rose and fell against me. Then she reached around and gave my ass a hard slap.
“But you’d better be a good boy. No more shady deals.”
“No more shady deals,” I sighed, my lips at her ear.
“Good,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and dug her fingernails into my back. She wrapped her long legs around my waist and nudged my ass with her heels, like she was kicking a horse to make it go.
She said, “Now, shut up fuck me.”
“Gladly.”
I pulled my hips back and my cock slid straight into her. The breath gushed from her lungs and she dug her fingernails deeper into my back. She trailed her nails down my back, leaving scratches that burned with beautiful pain.
She dug her heels into my ass and prodded me into a rhythm.
I braced on my elbows and we kissed as we fucked.
Our tongues dueled, darting in and out, matching the rhythm of my cock and balls slamming into her.
Maggie moaned in my ear and bucked her ass off the bed.
Each time I thrust into her, she pulled herself up, making me go deeper and deeper inside her.
TWENTY-ONE: MAGGIE
I could practically feel Tyler’s cock all the way up in my throat each time he thrust into me. I dug my nails into his back and opened my mouth so his tongue could come inside to play with mine.
I could feel the orgasm building, like a fire burning deep within my cunt that was spreading throughout my entire body. Every nerve stood on end. Every cell tingled. I could feel my pulse in my temple. I could hear my heart beating in my ear.
“Oh… god… I’m cumming…” Tyler said. He was ramming into me now, fast and hard. His balls slapped against my pussy. My nipples grew harder as his long beard brushed against them. I felt the muscles in his back stiffen. His ass was hard as stone beneath my heels.
The second I felt his body tighten and his seed begin to flow into me, my own orgasm hit like a tsunami battering the shoreline. I tightened my legs around his waist and pulled him into me, as deep as he could go.
My pussy exploded with hot juices as he continued to slide in and out, spreading his milky cum over my pussy, making a wonderfully-sticky mess.
He thrust into me a few more times as the little bolts of lightning shot through my body and made me tingle all over.
He let go the long breath he’d been holding and collapsed on the bed beside me.
He raised his arm and I rolled into him with my head resting on his chest.
I stroked his long beard as if it were a cat.
“Maybe I’ll just name it,” I said quietly.
He smiled down at me. “You’re going to name my beard?”
“What do you think of the name Fluffy?”
“I’m not crazy about it.”
“Shaggy?”
“I think we can talk about it tomorrow,” he said with a yawn. He kissed my forehead. “Goodnight, Mags.”
I nuzzled into his neck. “Goodnight, my big mountain man.”
EPILOGUE: MAGGIE
Tyler poured his second cup of coffee and leaned back against the kitchen counter to sip it. I was sitting at the kitchen island going through the morning mail. I glanced at him and smiled. It seemed like just yesterday that he was standing in that exact spot with his junk hanging out and a salacious grin on his face.
Now, a year later, he was wearing jeans, work boots and a denim shirt with the Jenner logo on the pocket.
He had decided to stay in Mountain View to personally oversee the construction of the new hotel downtown. And to be with me.
The boys and I had moved into the mountain lodge shortly after Tyler and I reunited. They worshipped Tyler and he doted on them. It was like having three teenagers in the house.
Tyler was the big brother and father figure they so desperately needed and deserved. We were all one, big happy dysfunctional family. I’d never been happier in my life.
The entire city block where Carl and Doris’ restaurant was located, along with the other shops, had been razed almost a year ago. It was a bittersweet day, watching the construction equipment make short work of the old buildings. Now, the new hotel was just a few months away from opening and there were a million things to get done. On top of that, we made a two year plan to begin the construction of Maggie’s Garden, my very own steakhouse at the heart of downtown. I had to pinch myself. A year ago I would have laughed at the idea, but here I was.
It was important to me that I earned my way up the ladder and I asked Tyler to treat me like any other business partner when it came to working together. He respected my wishes.
“What’s that?” he asked, nodding at the postcard in my hand.
“It’s a postcard from Carl and Doris in Florida,” I said, fanning it at him. The front of the card had a picture of a sandy beach at sunset. On the back, Doris had written “Wish you were here!” and drawn a happy face.
I pretended to read the back of the card.
“Tyler, please do everything Maggie says and give her lots and lots of sex. Love, Carl and Doris.”
“Wow, that’s my kind of postcard,” Tyler said with a grin.
There was a thick envelope in the stack of mail from a law firm in Denver that I didn’t recognize. Tyler’s in-house lawyers handled his business affairs. I held it up for him to see.
“You have a letter from Baxter & Chase, Attorneys at Law.” I cut my eyes at him. “You’re not in trouble again, are you?”
He smiled at me and rolled his eyes. “That’s the firm I hired to set up the foundation we talked about.”
I blinked at him. “The foundation?”
“The James J. Jenner Foundation,” he said, taking the envelope and sliding a finger under the flap to tear it open. He handed me a document that was too full of legalese for me to understand. “Those are the articles of incorporation.”
“This is the foundation you set up in memory of your father,” I said, giving him a warm smile. “The one that will donate camping equipment and set up
summer outdoor programs for underprivileged kids across the country.”
“That’s it,” he said with a sigh. His eyes went dreamy for a moment. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my dad. I wouldn’t have all this and I would have never met you. I wanted to do something in his memory.” He gave me a smile. “You’ve taught me how important family is, Maggie. How important people are. My dad knew that. I think I did a long time ago, but I lost sight of it. It took you to remind me of it.”
“Yes, well, what can I say? I am quite the motivator!”
“Yes, you are.”
I grinned at him and slipped the papers back into the envelope. “This is wonderful, Tyler. Your dad would be so proud.”
He nodded at the laptop sitting open on the bar next to me. “Have you got everything ordered for the hotel kitchen? I’m meeting with the city inspector today for the final inspection on the electrical and plumbing, so we’ll be ready to install the appliances as soon as they arrive.”
“Yes sir, I have coordinated with your buyers in Denver and everything is on its way,” I said with a salute and a smile. “It should arrive next week.”
“Awesome,” he said, draining the cup and setting it in the sink. He wiped the tips of his moustache with his fingers and glanced toward the door. “I’m going to take the boys to the construction site with me again today. They’ve been a huge help, and I think they’re having fun learning how things work.”
“I appreciate you taking them under your wing,” I said with a smile. “They really like you.”
“They’re good boys,” he said. He let his eyes linger on my face for a moment. “How about you? Are you ready to go to work once the hotel restaurant is open?”
“I am,” I said.
I’d been taking the online classes from the culinary school in Denver for almost a year and was finally on my way to getting my dream degree.
“I think I’ve put on fifteen pounds being your test dummy,” he said, rubbing his flat stomach.
I smiled for a moment, then made a serious face. “Are you sure your head chef isn’t going to have a problem having the boss’ fiancé working in his kitchen? I mean, this is going to be a five-star restaurant and he is one of the top chefs in the country. Are you sure he’s not a little resentful of having me in his kitchen? This is a very big deal for you and him. I don’t want to do anything to screw it up.”
“Jean Claude is a consummate professional, Mags,” Tyler said with a nod. “He and I had a long talk and he is totally cool with having you in his kitchen. Just don’t expect any favors from him. If anything, he’ll be harder on you than the other chefs, but it’s only because he wants you to learn to be the best, from the best. He knows you are being groomed for running Maggie’s Garden in a few years. It will be the perfect.”
“As long as he’s willing to teach me, I’m willing to shut my mouth and learn. It’s important that I’ve worked the trenches and earned the right to run my own restaurant. I couldn’t be more grateful for your help, but as you know, I have to do that part for myself” I said.
Tyler came around the island and I swiveled on the stool to face him. He wedged himself between my knees and I put my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest.
“I love you,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
“I love you, too,” I said with a sigh.
I listened to his heart beating in my ear.
It was a most wonderful sound.
Who would have thought that Maggie Dean would be the one to tame the Billionaire Mountain Man?
THE END
More Steamy Romance By Rye Hart
About the author:
Rye Hart. Own Your Naughty.
Rye Hart is an Amazon Bestseller for the following books in her Rock Hard Series:
Rock Hard Baby Daddy (#22 US Amazon Bestseller)
Rock Hard SEAL (#36 US Amazon Bestseller)
Rock Hard Fake Groom (#40 US Amazon Bestseller)
Rock Hard Boss (#44 US Amazon Bestseller)
Rock Hard Daddy (#52 US Amazon Bestseller)
CUFF ME Daddy (#58 US Amazon Bestseller)
Rye writes about powerfully sexy women and the hot alpha bad boys who love them. You will not find any cheating here. Rye's books are packed with hot passionate love and happy ever after endings.
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Rye Hart here! Thank you for supporting a new indie romance author. Anything you can do, whether it be writing a review, or even simply telling a fellow reader that you enjoyed my book means the world!
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I’ve also included sneak peaks for the top three best sellers, within my Rock Hard Series, in the following pages.
Rock Hard Baby Daddy: Sneak Peak
A Billionaire Cowboy Romance
CHAPTER ONE - BELLA
I’ve seen the world through a camera lens from as early as I could remember.
I couldn’t help but be drawn toward the beauty around me. For whatever reason, I felt the need to document it in a timeless photograph that could speak to others, and maybe even spark a moment of serenity in their hearts.
Yes, it all sounds very artsy-fartsy, even hippie-ish . But I couldn’t help myself. I was who I was.
My mother saw it in me before I did. Even with pressure from well-meaning teachers, attempting to dissuade me from what they saw as a simple hobby, Mom always told me to screw what they thought and go after what was in my heart.
“Bella, you have a fire in you,” she’d told me at a young age. “You don’t realize it now, but you will change the lives of others with your talents. Promise me and, more importantly, promise yourself that you’ll always go after your dreams, no matter how hard the journey.”
Yep, she was pretty much the best mom on earth.
And now the best mom in heaven.
She’d done a damn good job raising me all on her own, and I hoped and prayed that someday when I had my own children, I could be half the mom she was.
May her precious heart rest in peace.
Fast forward to present day, and I’m nowhere near where I’d imagined I’d be at my age. On paper one would think I was nuts for even complaining about my situation.
Engaged to a good, beautiful wealthy man.
A big princess wedding only months away.
And an even bigger rock on my left hand.
I’m not one to lack appreciation for the lavish life I was living, but I felt my confidence dwindling day by day in my fiancé Gavin’s presence. Gavin’s constant berating and trivialization of my interests had all but destroyed the passion I had left for my art.
He would never admit to it, but he essentially saw me as his trophy wife. In his eyes, my job was to sit quietly and look pretty. He didn’t mind me having a side hobby or two, but he didn’t like the idea of me pursing my dream of becoming a widely influential artist. He knew how much it would take, and that simply didn’t align well with his plan for life.
He did everything he could to diminish the flames that sparked inside of me. Now, as I look at myself in the mirror, I can barely recognize the girl I once knew. It was the thought of losing that last bit of fire that scared the fuck out of me.
“This place is a dump, Bella.” Gavin had curled his lip at my friend’s place for the second time that evening. The first time was when we drove up and parked outside, and now I’d hoped he’d keep his voice low enough that the other artists present wouldn’t hear. There were writers, painters, and other photographers within earshot.
A friend of mine from my photography class owned the coffee shop, so I hoped he wouldn’t throw his countless insults this direction, but that was a proving to be a major fail at this point. The truth was the coffee shop was one of the best and busiest shops in the city, and the patrons had all built such a camaraderie that
they were like a small family. It would take a complete asshole not to appreciate the charm it had to offer. Today Gavin was that asshole.
Kayla finally showed, and I breathed a sigh of relief as she crossed the room. My best friend would be just the lift I needed.
“This is awesome! I’m sure you’ve already sold a ton of copies of the journal, right?” she asked enthusiastically.
“She’s signed five and two of those were for the same woman. She has only sold one print.” Gavin smirked.
Why am I with this dickhead anyway? I asked myself.
“She bought the books for her daughters,” I said, in attempt to sway the direction of the conversation back to something positive.
I smiled remembering the older woman who had seemed way out of her element. She had come across town to buy copies of my photography collection for her daughters, who were avid readers. Both had enjoyed my collections in the past and owned a few prints, so she’d wanted to surprise them.
My book was a passion project. I wanted to do something different and had one of my earlier collections made into a journal that told stories from my childhood with my mother. I had thought about it since her death and finally made the dream into a reality. It meant a lot to me that others would now get to see it.
“I still think giving away too many of your images in one sale is a bad idea. Even if it is one collection.” Gavin had failed to see many of my ideas as practical, and he measured success solely on money.
“I think the journals were a really cool way to showcase those older pieces. It’s a gorgeous book, and it’s not like it’s your entire collection,” Kayla said, rolling her eyes at Gavin. She was always the positive influence in my life. I thanked my lucky stars for her, because her positivity was all I had left to hold on to after my mom’s passing. Kayla, much like my mom, had the ability to see things in me that I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see in myself.
“Frankly, it wouldn’t matter what you were trying to showcase here. It’d be lost on the tacky setting. I’d ask the owners to turn the lights up, but no telling what kind of crap the bad lighting is hiding in this place,” Gavin said.
