“Are you going to keep talking about it or are you going to do it?" she teased.
“Oh, aren’t you the sassy one?" he said, smacking her ass hard.
He’d never wanted anything so badly. He’d never been so hot for a woman.
He knew he was about to explode inside her and the thought was so thrilling it overwhelmed his mind.
He raised her ass up and slipped his shaft into her pussy.
She moaned her pleasure, encouraging him to drive into her even harder.
He slid his hot cock in and out of her wetness while she matched his motions, opening herself up so he could penetrate more deeply.
He flipped her around so that she was facing him, somehow keeping his long cock inside her as she turned.
She wrapped her legs tightly around his hips and that was enough to push him over the edge.
He couldn't hold back any longer. He thrust deeply into her, and in a swift motion lifted her on to his lap, his erection never leaving her body. She felt the warm pressure on her clit and her passion surged again. She rocked herself on his cock until she came once more, sinking her teeth into his neck, branding him with her bite.
Her moans sent him over the edge and his own orgasm coursed through his body, draining his hot cum into her like lava flowing from an erupting volcano.
He held her close to him while, crushing her against his chest with his strong arms as his cock pumped his semen into her. Her eyes widened as she felt him flowing inside her. She thought he’d never stop.
How much cum did he have inside him?
Then he released his grip a little and gasped as if he’d been holding his breath.
His orgasm was finally over. He’d finally had his release. He’d finally claimed her body as his own.
They caught their breath together, and he held her against his chest, enjoying the heat emanating from her flushed skin. He held her for several minutes as their bodies recovered, entwined in a lovers’ embrace.
He stroked her hair gently, enjoying the intimacy, more in love than he’d ever thought possible.
“Shower with me?" he said as his breath returned to normal.
Reagan tenderly kissed him as she peeled herself away. He slipped off the bed and held his hand out, offering to help her up.
“I would love that,” she said, taking his hand.
She stood up and he pulled her close again, looking over her face.
“You’re so beautiful, Reagan” he said, his voice full of sincerity. “I’ve never had feelings like this in my life.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Ethan
Reagan made them pasta for dinner while Ethan put together a salad. She opened a bottle of wine and they sat on the balcony, enjoying their meal with the city lights twinkling in the distance. He was always amazed by how comfortable and easy they were around one another, how natural their conversation flowed.
He loved how Reagan could talk about any subject, and how she wasn’t afraid to challenge him during their playful debates. She was thoughtful and funny and he was captivated by her.
They were enjoying their coffee, sitting close enough to hold hands. Reagan looked thoughtfully at him and smiled. He returned her smile and squeezed her fingertips lightly.
“Are you happy?” he asked her.
She nodded slowly.
“Yes. I wasn’t sure I would recognize happiness if I ever found it. It’s better than I imagined,” she said thoughtfully.
“Good. I always want you to feel that way. I want to be the man who thinks of ways to bring you joy every day,” he said and he meant it.
Reagan smiled warmly at him, but her eyes were filled with worry.
“What is it?” he asked.
She shrugged. He could tell she was in deep thought.
“You can tell me,” he said.
“I’m just trying to figure out how this is going to work, you and I,” she said quietly.
Ethan sat forward and set his empty mug on the table.
“What do you mean?”
“I just worry that the media will make things difficult for you. I’ve always been as discreet as possible, but look how easy it was for Kirk to find me. And what about your situation with Mia? Look how fast they were to print the story. Imagine what they would do with this. Could this hurt you? Your career?” she said, her brows knitting together with concern.
Ethan looked at her thoughtfully, a comforting smile on his lips.
“Reagan, I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve given this a lot of thought too. The truth is, the public loves gossip, the juicier the better, but they also have very short attention spans. Scandal is the thread that stitches Hollywood together. Drugs, affairs, million-dollar divorces, bed hopping cougars, secret gay lovers ... they love all of it! Trust me, what two consenting adults do in their own time, kinky or not, will not hold the attention of the public very long, especially if they’re in love.”
Reagan smiled brightly.
“In love?” she asked, raising her brows.
Ethan nodded.
“Oh yeah.”
He nodded, leaning in for a kiss. She put her finger to his lips to stop him.
“You love me?” she asked again.
Ethan sat back and grinned confidently at her.
“I love you, Reagan. You’re a beautiful, smart, sexy, wise-ass. I love that you’re adventurous, brave and kinky as hell, but you’re also thoughtful and compassionate and loving. You give great head and make the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever eaten,” he said with a playful wink.
Reagan scrunched her nose at him and giggled.
He continued.
“Also, you’re imaginative and playful and open minded in the best way possible. You keep striving to be a better person and you make me want to do the same. And you aren’t afraid to call me out on my shit, but I get the sense that no matter how flawed I prove to be, you’ll still love me unconditionally. The best part of all that? I feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface, like life with you will continuously unveil adventures and surprises.”
He sat back and looked at her thoughtfully.
Reagan stood up and climbed into his lap, kissing him passionately.
“I love you too, Ethan,” she admitted breathlessly, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
He shifted her off his lap and they both stood up. He took her hand and lead her from the balcony to the living room where he showed her once again just how much he loved her.
He lay her down on the sofa and she looked up at him, amazed that he was already hungry for more.
He pulled off her clothes and slid his cock into her and when their eyes locked, they both knew this was the real thing. This was the thing they’d both been searching for their entire lives.
This was love.
When he came inside her, she clung to him so tightly, the muscles in her pussy gripped his cock so tightly, that he knew she was holding on to him for dear life. She would never let him go. He knew that. And he would never let her go either.
Their love was for life.
After their lovemaking, they lay together on the sofa, Ethan behind Reagan, his arms wrapped loosely around her, his hands cupping her breasts.
“What are in those boxes?” he asked curiously.
Reagan chuckled softly. She hadn’t taken her supplies to storage yet.
“I packed up some of Lady Grace’s things,” she said casually.
He kissed her on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair.
“What are you going to do with them?”
She shrugged and giggled quietly.
“Well, I can’t exactly donate them, can I?” she teased.
He laughed.
“Hmm. Probably not. What about keeping them? We can put them to good use. You can bring Lady Grace out to play once in a while, like when I have been a naughty boy.”
Reagan laughed.
“You mean you don’t want to tame me?” she said provocatively.
<
br /> Ethan gently flipped her on her back and kissed her.
“Hell no. I wouldn’t dream of it. Of course, we’ll have to put a lock on the playroom in our house, you know, to keep the kids out.”
Reagan giggled.
“Kids?” she said.
He nodded and kissed her smiling lips.
Reagan sighed peacefully and caressed his arms. She traced the crest tattoo on his shoulder with her finger tips.
“What’s the significance of this crest? What does Fortis Et Fidus mean?” she asked curiously.
Ethan glanced at his shoulder and grinned.
“That’s the McLaughlin crest. It means Strong & Faithful,” he said. “Good you asked, since I’m going to make you Mrs. McLaughlin.”
Reagan nodded her head slowly, her eyes dizzy with love.
She cradled her hands behind Ethan’s head and pulled him into a deep kiss. It was the kind of kiss that had an answer to every question, the kind of kiss that would form the basis of a marriage that would last them both the rest of their lives.
Chapter Forty-Five
Epilogue
Ethan led Reagan down the red carpet, stopping often to talk to colleagues, friends and the media. She stood tall and proud by his side, the epitome of class and confidence. She wore an emerald green off the shoulder gown that displayed her curves beautifully. She was in the early stages of her pregnancy, so while she was not yet showing, she was glowing the way expecting mothers do.
No one knew yet.
They wanted to keep the news to themselves until after the award season. The film Ethan had been producing since they met was killing it at the box office and receiving high critical acclaim. It had been nominated for all the major awards, and tonight was the big show.
The Academy Awards.
Ethan was the man of the hour, his film garnering nominations in twelve categories. Everyone wanted to talk with him and he handled it with humor and grace.
Reagan had worried that their relationship might make waves for Ethan, but it never really did. It didn’t take long for the headlines to break once they made things public. There were all kinds of rumors of course, some of them true, but most of them preposterous.
Ethan and Reagan would peruse through the stories online and in the papers and giggle together. Sometimes they would make up their own headlines, just to make each other laugh.
By the time she moved into Ethan’s house, the excitement around them had quietened significantly. They were no longer the newest thing, just as Ethan predicted.
People adored him, and they always would, because he was a talented, kind, hard-working man who loved his woman.
Being kinky didn’t change that. If anything, it just made him more colorful.
The media had taken a keen interest in Reagan at first. The paparazzi were pretty short of manners in the early days. They wanted to know who this naughty, mysterious red head was, who was able to “tie down” Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor. Yes, the headlines were creative.
They would tail her pretty much everywhere, until they realized she was just a normal person doing pretty normal things.
She would walk Ragnar daily, volunteer at the retirement home, hang out with Penny and her boys, or go to work at the flower shop in West Hollywood.
Every now and then she would “sneak” into Hustler Hollywood or The Pleasure Chest, just to mess with them.
Ethan didn’t mind.
In fact, he encouraged it, especially since she would almost always come home with some new toys to play with.
She wasn’t sure what the paparazzi were hoping for. Did they think she would walk around town in a corset, brandishing a riding crop and flogger? She saved that for the playroom, among many other things.
For the most part, she took everything in stride, just long enough for the media to lose interest and more or less welcome her into the family of Hollywood faces they recognized and loved.
“Ethan, you look great tonight, and so does your beautiful wife,” Marisa Crewson gushed, as she pulled him in for an interview, “Reagan, who are you wearing? It’s stunning.”
Reagan smiled as Ethan placed his arm around her.
“It’s Givenchy Couture and these beautiful emerald and diamond earrings are Harry Winston,” she said, plugging the designers.
Reagan was well rehearsed. Ethan had brought her to so many ceremonies she was actually getting good at the red carpet song and dance.
“Well, that certainly is your color. You’ve looked amazing all season, but you definitely saved the best look for last.”
She went on to ask Ethan all the appropriate questions about his film, and Ethan answered her as spontaneously as he could, given how often he had been asked the same questions.
Finally, they were ushered away so she could interview the next celebrity. It really wasn’t as glamorous as it all seemed on television. It was basically organized chaos, with the press wanting to get their soundbites and celebrities seeking their moment in the spot light.
Ethan was skilled at navigating the carpet and made it look easy. Everyone was excited to talk to him.
As they were finally making their way into the Dolby Theatre, Reagan leaned in close to Ethan to whisper in his ear.
“Too bad no one asked what you were wearing,” she cooed. “You could have told them you’re wearing my panties, courtesy of Victoria’s Secret.”
Ethan chuckled and gave her ass a playful smack.
“Shush, woman, or I may have to torture you later,” he teased.
Reagan grinned, raising her brows.
“Well, Sir, it’s my turn,” she purred, snuggling in under his arm.
Ethan kissed the top of her head, leading the love of his life to their seats.
“Oh, not to put you on the spot,” he said, “but if I win, I’ll be announcing the baby!”
Reagan’s jaw dropped, and then she threw her arms around her husband and kissed him as passionately as ever.
Secret Bonus Story
Bad to the Bone
Thank you for taking this journey with me. The connection we formed during this book is something powerful and intimate that I will cherish forever.
If you would like to connect with me on a deeper, more personal level, I have prepared a sexual, flirtatious, secret bonus story that is designed to be a fantasy between you and me.
The story is called Bad to the Bone, and you can get it for free by sending me an email with a link or screenshot of your review for this book. Make the subject of your email Bad to the Bone.
My email is [email protected]. I read every message and I look forward to receiving yours.
xoxo
Chance Carter
Wife Me Bad Boy
Chance Carter
My Name is Grant Lucas, And I Will Make You My Wife.
I look like any normal Bad Boy. Tattoos, Muscles, Swagger. I look ... good.
But I'm not good, and I will Make a Wife out of You.
Lacey thinks she wants a husband, she thinks she wants a nice man to settle down with. She has no idea. The guy she has in mind is all wrong. He doesn't have the balls. He doesn't even come close to being man enough for a girl like her.
I know what she wants, she wants the Rock Hard strength of a real man.
And if she's going to get a husband, it's going to be me. I'm the only one who can wife her.
She doesn't know it yet, but I'm going to Wife her so Hard her Head will Spin.
Chapter 1
Grant
You want to know the truth about men? You want to know what we really think?
All right, I’ll tell you, but you might not like it.
Men hate weddings.
There, I said it.
I feel bad, I know it’s a really special day for every girl who ever dreamed of being a bride, but it’s the truth, and you’re better off hearing it from me now than some other guy later.
Men despise weddings the way women despise breakups, or being
cheated on, or growing old. Weddings go against everything we stand for, threaten our very view of the world, and our place within it.
I’m not just speaking for myself. It’s not just me who thinks this way. It’s all men. Every last one of us hates weddings. It’s practically a requirement for being a man.
Think about it.
How do we like to view ourselves? How do we really like to imagine the way the world sees us?
A sailor, coasting into the sunset. A pirate on the high seas, just us and our ship against everything the ocean has to throw at us. A cowboy, alone on our horse, riding into town and every woman looking our way. A biker, cruising the open road, the wind in our hair and the sun on our face.
We’re simple creatures. We like simple things.
Just me and my horse and my gun, baby. Just me and my ship and my compass. Just me and my bike and a tank of gas. Hell, you don’t even have to get that fancy. Just me and my truck and my dog, baby. How’s that?
It’s the way we’re built. We’re strong. We’re rugged. We stand alone.
Rocks. Islands. Mountains.
That’s how we see ourselves. And there’s no room in there for flower arrangements and party favors and violin music.
Hell. A wedding comes along, dresses you in a goofy suit, sticks a flower on your lapel, puts a ring on your finger. It’s like having your nuts cut off with a blunt razor.
It’s literally painful to watch, even when you’re not the one on the chopping block. We watch our buddies getting married and we shake our heads. “Never me,” we say. “You won’t catch me going down without a fight. I’m the lone fucking ranger. It would be a crime to hang up these spurs.”
We watch our friends get married like they’re volunteering to be neutered. And we’re all thinking the same thing. How can he do it? How can he give up so much life, so much adventure, just to be someone’s husband? Has he lost his mind?
Grace and Mercy Page 24
