Spanked by the Bad Boy
Page 16
“All that aside, I don’t want bad blood between me and Deck, and you and I coming to a mutual understanding with each other will go a long way in mending fences with him.”
“It will?”
“Yes. So if we can agree to put up with each other for his sake, I’m extending the olive branch, and I’m sorry for the way I treated you at my parents’ house.” He paused. “Both times,” he clarified. He took one long-legged step toward her and held out his hand. “Truce?”
She put her hand in his and shook. “Truce,” she said.
***
After Tiffany’s mother left, she took a deep breath and shut the front door of her apartment for what she hoped was the last time. Her mother, God bless her, had stayed for a few days after she was released from the hospital and was finally gone. Perhaps she could get to the business of enjoying the last couple of days of her quasi-vacation.
When the knock came, she threw her good hand up in the air. Tanya had come back two times already since leaving; first, to collect the make-up bag she’d left behind in the bathroom then for her sweater.
Trying not to be irritated, Tiffany spun on her heel and opened the door saying, “What did you leave behind this time?”
“You, sugar,” Declan said in the voice she’d been missing, all grit.
Her heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. Her hand went to her chest right about the moment her stomach dropped then rose, giving her the sensation of being on a rollercoaster.
“Declan,” she uttered. “What are you doing here?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Can I come in?” Declan asked. He stood on the front stoop of Tiffany’s apartment, taking in every line of her beautiful face.
“Sure.” She scooted aside for him to cross the threshold. “Can I get you something? I have Coke, or tea, or perhaps you’re hungry? I’ve—”
“I’m good,” he said. “Can we talk?”
“Okay.” She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear then made her way to the sectional.
She glanced over her shoulder. He had shut her door and was taking off his boots. She smiled, and his heart did queer things. He placed his boots side by side on the tiled entry, and then straightened. When he stepped on her carpet, he wiggled his toes inside his socks.
She took a seat. He sat beside her. In the span of three heartbeats, he leaned back, his forearm resting on the arm of her couch.
“How have you been?” he asked.
She looked at her lap. “The truth?”
“Always,” he said.
“I’ve been better.”
“Are you in pain?”
“Yes.”
He frowned and glared at her brace. “From your wrist? Did the doctor give you some pain medication?”
She lifted her gaze and looked into his face, his eyes. “I’m in pain because I miss you. I hurt because I was responsible for hurting you. I ache,” she said, “because not being able to see you, or talk to you kills me.” Silence sliced through the room. “I never meant for all the bad stuff or bad decisions of my life to affect you.” She brushed her fingers over the scrapes on his knuckles. “Your hand.” Her voice sounded so forlorn, almost childlike. “Your fingers look swollen. Are you in pain?”
“I’ll live,” he said. The discomfort in his hand couldn’t even come close to the pain in his heart.
She reached up and, with a gentle touch, skimmed the bruise on his forehead. “You could have been killed because of me.”
“Shh….” He leaned forward and placed his palm on her knee. “I don’t want you to feel guilt over Royce.”
“But—”
“I came here to talk about us, not Royce.” She blinked. “A very smart person told me once that, whether we mean to or not, we sometimes hurt the ones we love the most. And, sugar, I’ve hurt you by pulling away.”
Tell her you love her, dumbass.
“You pulled away because of me and what I did.”
“No,” he said. “I pulled away because of me.”
“When you first walked into Stoub Engineering, I knew who you were, or at least I thought I knew who you were.”
“I know,” he said.
“No, wait. Let me explain. I need to explain.” She curled her fingers into his. “I was messed up back then. I did crazy things trying to forget about my life, my stepdad. Then Simon came along, and I put my energy into trying to make something that would never work with him. I’ve already told you my time with him was a disaster, but what I didn’t say was when it was finally over, I went back to the crazy. It’s what I knew, what I thought would make everything go away. I went to the Halloween party looking to hook up. What your brother said was true. I did it because I wanted to escape the agony of my life and let my body feel sexual pleasure in hopes of erasing the ache for a while.”
“Tiffany,” he said. “I—”
“Please let me get this out,” she said. He nodded, and she continued. “I can never take back what happened between your brother and me, but I thought it was you, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to know that person. I couldn’t admit to the one man I wanted more than anything that I was her—the unmemorable woman with a sketchy past and piss-poor judgment. I had to be memorable to you for something more, something right. As we got to know each other, I wanted to tell you. I needed to. I wanted to come clean, and I thought you might be upset with the fact I’d hidden our prior history, but I figured we’d work through it together, so when I saw who I thought was you, I confessed. Only it wasn’t you, and I’d screwed everything up.”
Declan stopped her almost breathless rant with his mouth on hers. Her tears fell on his face when they kissed. He took her by the waist and tugged her onto his lap. His cock stirred to life. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Their tongues danced with each other.
“I was wrong,” he said. Her breath gusted across his lips. “Wrong to ever let one day pass without you in my life.” He kissed her neck. She shivered. He inhaled her delicious scent. “I was an asshole. Can you forgive me?”
“Can you forgive me?” she asked.
“I already have,” he said, and it was true. “The past is the past.”
“It’s a pretty rough past,” she said. He pressed his hand into the small of her back.
“You have a past. I have a past. Neither of us has been a saint, but together we can make our future into what we want it to be.” He nibbled at her ear. She moaned. “And I want a future with you. I knew I did the first time you pretended not to know my name.”
“You knew I was pretending?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
She giggled, swiping the wetness of her tears from her cheeks.
“Tiffany….”
She looked at him. “What?”
“I love you.”
Her throat worked before she swallowed. He placed his fingers to the pulse beating in her neck, feeling the blessed thump-thump-thumping. She gazed into his eyes, hers filled with more tears, and said, “I love you, too, Declan.”
He smiled and unleashed the full force of his dimples, ecstatic at those words. “So does this mean I’m forgiven for being such a dickhead?”
She laughed so hard, she snorted. God help him, he loved the sound.
“It does, Mr. Cage.”
“Good, Ms. Brooks,” he said and kissed her.
***
Declan took Tiffany down in a slow tumble to her bed, worshiping the glory of her mouth as he slid deep into the warm, wet tightness of her core. When she squeezed around him, he groaned. When he ground his pelvic bone against hers, she moaned. Her touch, taste, and scent were a banquet to the senses.
He pumped in and out of her delectable pussy, lapping and sucking at the soft flesh of her neck, feeling her body shiver and listening to her sounds of pleasure until he had to see her, see her face. He lifted up onto his hands, still working her in short pulses of his hips, sliding his cock almost out of her snug warmth then pressing inside until h
e saw her eyes flutter shut and her lip slip between her teeth, breasts swaying with each thrust.
“Put your hands over your head,” he said. She did. “Hang on a second.” Tiffany’s eyes opened when he disengaged from her body. He scooted off the bed, tugging her to the edge, her ass almost off, and lifted her legs, hooking his hands behind her knees. “I want to watch this.” She nodded, her sexy grin transforming her face. “Keep your arms above you, sugar.”
“All right,” she said.
He entered her body. “God,” he uttered, feeling the resistance, the acceptance, and the heat of her surrounding his bare cock.
“Mmm,” she moaned.
He watched her pussy accept him, working her in a slow rhythm. He loved how her hips rose to meet him, how her sex flushed with a hot pink coloration, and how she opened and her juices glistened on her thighs when he pulled out. Her skin stretched to take his girth when he pressed his dick back inside her warmth. He thrilled at the way her body trembled.
He kept up his steady lovemaking for a long time, basking in the sounds Tiffany made for him.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
“Don’t stop, Declan. Please don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He kept the pace, wanting the sensations of her to envelop him, but the reality of his body lasting much longer was tugging at his control. He thrust harder. She squeezed her sweetness around him. Releasing her legs, he pulled out of her body and grabbed his stiff erection, dropping the wide, heavy head onto her pebbled hard clit.
“I’m coming!” She cried out in a hoarse shout. “Oh, God, Declan.”
He watched her empty sex clench tight. Her body shake. Her back arch. The rosy hue of her climax overtook her chest, neck, and cheeks, and his need hit hard, a lightning strike. He groaned, released his thick cream across her tender sweet flesh, feeling as though he could no longer stand, and collapsed down beside the woman who had captured his heart.
Epilogue
Tiffany practically bounded out the door of Stoub Engineering when Declan pulled up, straddling his chrome chopper with the sound of the motor purring loudly. She’d been waiting for what seemed forever for the weather to improve so they could ride.
Squealing, she couldn’t hold back her enthusiasm. “Hi, babe.”
“Hey, beautiful,” Declan said.
“The weather is supposed to be nice all week,” she said, smiling.
Declan’s booted foot hit the ground. While one hand stayed on the handle, the other he held out for her. “I heard,” he said. She took his hand, feeling the smoothness of the skull ring on his thumb rub against her fingers, and mounted the bike behind him.
She pressed her knees tight on either side of his hips, arms moving quickly to wrap around his tight waist, and plastered her breasts to his back. “I’m so happy I wore my pantsuit today.”
He rubbed her linen-covered knee. “Are you holding on tight, sugar?”
“I am,” she said, feeling the shimmy of the bike beneath her ass. “Where are you taking me for lunch?”
“I thought we’d grab some tacos, head over to Cheesman Park, and enjoy the beautiful day while we eat,” he said. “Or we could say to hell with the tacos and just have a nooner.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said. “Screw the tacos.”
He chortled. The bike revved. She squeezed her knees tighter. They pulled out onto Oakdale Street, went a few blocks, and hit the highway where Declan really opened up the throttle.
The sensation of freedom struck, and it had nothing to do with being on a bike with the bad boy who dared to love her, but more with the knowledge she’d fallen in love with the right man. A man who had every intention of taking her along with him for one long hell of a ride.
A Letter from London Saint James
To my fans and readers:
I’m blessed to have such a loyal fan base and awesome group of readers. I truly appreciate all the love and support, your emails about my work, and of course all the kind words of encouragement you send my way. I write because simply, writing has always been my passion. And I continue to write because of all of you.
I hope you enjoy reading my newest labor of love, Spanked by the Bad Boy, the first book in my Bad Boy Fever series. When the inspiration for this series of standalone books struck—seven book titles popped into my head. Not sure which story wanted to be told first and also not sure where each story would take me, I sat down to write. As usual, the characters had some surprises for me along the way, and as their story unfolded I knew Spanked by the Bad Boy must be the first book. So curl up in a nice cozy spot to sit and read, catch the fever, and find out what’s good about a bad boy.
XoXo
London Saint James
london@londonsaintjames.com
A Different Class by Leigh Ellwood
FDR High Class of 2004 graduate, Glenn Carson contacts fellow alumni to get a list of who will be attending the upcoming festivities. One call to a disgruntled former student leaves him shaken—apparently, not everyone is looking forward to the reunion. Hoping to ease his frustration, he contacts the 1Night Stand service for a relaxing and passionate encounter.
Known as “Mumbles” to former classmates, Rod Maloney would prefer to focus on the present and his successful business. However, past tragedies continue to haunt him, so he requests Madame Eve find him a man to show him a hot time and help him forget his troubles.
Will their one night together lead to a reunion after all?
The Governess and the Beast by Karyn Gerrard
Governess Hortense Jennings is offered a night of passion from The Beast of Stonecliff. Secrets, painful pasts, and desire clash together in an emotional crescendo. Can the governess and the beast find calm amid the storm and admit their true feelings, or will pride destroy the fairy tale before it begins?
Contents
Title page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
A Letter from London Saint James