by Jennifer Ann
By the grace of some unforeseen miracle, we make it through the short and sweet ceremony without getting too handsy in front of our friends. Considering we’ve had sex with armed guards on the other side of an unlocked door, I’m actually proud of our restraint that lasts right up until the woman in charge of the ceremony tells us we can kiss.
Fingers slipping beneath the slit in the back of my dress, Michael grips my chin in his other large hand before giving me the kind of panty-melting look I hope to see every day for the rest of our lives. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, baby girl.” Drawing his sweet mouth to my jaw, he quietly adds, “This is the part where I take my wife back to our suite and fuck her senseless.”
Then his mouth crashes over mine and he’s kissing me without holding back, slipping his tongue past my lips to stroke mine as if to make his intentions clearer. I press myself against his wide, solid body, becoming weak in the knees with the feel of his hard cock pushing against my softer flesh. Every inch of me burns with the need for him to make good on his promise.
Our three guests hoot and holler for a bit, but eventually die down. Once it’s silent, I recognize the sound of Tatum clearing her throat.
“How about the four of you head up to your rooms, and I’ll entertain these two gentlemen at the bar until either you join us, or I literally become a gray-haired spinster?”
Breaking away from Michael, I laugh a little too loudly at her joke.
“Works for me,” my husband tells her before hoisting me over his shoulder. Over my laughter I hear him exchange congratulations with Jace. I barely get “later”s in with Phoebe and Tatum before I’m being hauled into an elevator, embarrassed yet again when joined by other hotel guests. But the women joining us only giggle in response and whisper to each other on the short ride up.
Outside our suite door, Michael gently sets me down on my feet. Intense green eyes drag up and down my body as he licks his lips. There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t fail to tingle in anticipation of what that tongue can do. “Didn’t think it was possible for you to be any sexier. But Christ, Alexa. That dress…”
Grabbing his vest in my fists, I rise to my tiptoes to kiss him hard. His hands tangle in my hair as he pushes me against the wall and kisses me back until I’m sure one of us will pass out from lack of oxygen. It’s the kind of kiss that could almost literally make a girl pregnant…all tongue and teeth with wandering hands and eager bodies pressed together. It’s needy. Filled with unmatchable passion. Filled with love. It’s epic enough that it’s probably the first thing I’ll remember about the day we got married.
But I’m certain my memories of this day are about to become pornographic as he promptly sweeps me off my feet into his arms and shoves his way through the door like a man possessed.
The little girl who was forced to read stolen books in a dark basement and once believed in heroes becomes downright giddy as we enter our honeymoon suite that’s suddenly as magical as the castles where the princesses in my stories would wait for their prince.
All at once able to see things more clearly, I realize that I never wanted to get serious with anyone before I met Michael because I was never meant to be with the kind of man who lived a quiet, respectable life and punched into a clock five days each week. Chaos and darkness have always followed me, so it would make sense that’s where I found comfort and companionship. I once believed I wanted a man that was safe and uncomplicated, but it took one who knew danger and mayhem to understand me.
I’m tossed down on the sophisticated tan bedding as the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on lurks over me like a caveman. Any witty remarks I could possibly have lodge in my throat when he comes at me with the speed of a cheetah, tearing the second-hand dress clean off my shoulders and yanking it down my completely naked body.
Michael hisses through his teeth as his eyes burn with lust. I could almost come under the heat of his stare, without him even touching me.
“Damn, ba-by girl, if I had known you weren’t wearing anything underneath, I never would’ve made it through the fucking ceremony.” Falling to his knees on the mattress, he nudges my knees apart and lightly strokes his thick fingers along my inner thighs. “Moments like this I wonder if I’m still in prison…fantasizing about the hot attorney who came to my rescue. Because there’s no fucking way the angel spread out in front of me is my wife.”
“Oh I’m your wife alright,” I say with a smirk, propping myself up on my elbows to get a better look at the gorgeous man ready to ravage me. “And when you signed that marriage certificate, it gave me the right to boss you around.”
Chuckling, he raises his eyebrows. “Is that so?”
“You better bet your ass. Now be an obedient spouse and take those clothes off, nice and slow. That outfit you’re wearing is the best kind of suit porn I’ve ever seen and it makes you mouthwatering hot, but I want to see the goods underneath.”
“Shit, you really are a demanding wife,” he teases with a quiet chuckle. Leaning back on his heels, his eyes lock with mine. He begins to unbutton the vest at a painstakingly slow pace. “Is this what you want?”
I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth and nod slowly. If he were to touch me, he’d know the strip tease wasn’t necessary. I’m already wet and ready for him. But when the shirt goes next, gifting me with the ultimate eye-full of muscle and ink, I decide it’s not so selfish to ask for a little present on my wedding day.
Sitting all the way upright, I drop my eyes to the obvious hard-on in his pants. As much as I want to touch every inch of his luscious, burly body, I want a taste of him even more. “Keep going,” I wheeze out, ready to touch myself to relieve the ache he’s created.
“Yes ma’am,” he growls, the playful banter gone. Releasing the zipper on his jeans, he slides back off the bed and pulls them down along with his briefs. Then he releases his massive cock and takes it in his hand, giving it a few languid strokes. Damn, he is one hunk of a perfect man. “Keep looking at me like that and this will be over before we’ve even started.”
Running a shaking index finger across my lips, I smirk. “Then I guess we’ll have to get you ready to go a second time. Our guests can wait.”
“Maybe, but I can’t.”
Our naked bodies collide when he pounces on me, delivering a biting kiss. As our frantic tongues and lips work their magic, his fingers slip between my legs, teasing and stroking my slippery folds. I’m already so aroused that the first wave of an orgasm builds with record breaking speed, and I release an animalistic sound inside his mouth. Writhing beneath him, I buck against the palm of his hand when a couple of his fingers slip deep inside.
“Michael…fuck…I love you so hard…”
The vibration of his chuckle passes through his lips as they devour my neck. “That’s it, come for your husband. Give me all you’ve got, baby girl.”
Tilting my head back, I do just that. His mouth trails down to my breasts, sucking and nipping at a nipple while I cry out to whatever gods might be listening.
This is most definitely not how I pictured my life playing out, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Michael Harrison might still be bad for me in some ways, but for the very first time, letting something bad into my life feels pretty damn good.
THE END
Fighting for Alexa Playlist
Criminal by Distrubed
The Space in Between by How to Destroy Angels
Black Honey by Thrice
When God Comes Back by All Them Witches
Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys
Hated by Beartooth
Burning Down the House by The Used
Oh No by Goodbye June
The Devil’s Bleeding Crown by Volbeat
Killer by WrongONyou
Night People by You Me At Six
I Feel Love (Every Million Miles) by The Dead Weather
Also by Jennifer Ann
STANDALONES
Inferno Glory MC
F
ighting for Phoebe
Fighting for Alexa
Broken Little Melodies (coming in 2017)
The Missing Ones (coming in 2017)
KENDALL FAMILY SERIES
Brooklyn Rockstar
Midwest Fighter
Manhattan Millionaire
Oceanside Marine (coming in 2017)
Ten Nights (a Brooklyn Rockstar novella coming in 2017)
NYC LOVE SERIES
Adam’s List
Kelly’s Quest
Chloe’s Dream
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Brooklyn Rockstar
PRAISE FOR BROOKLYN ROCKSTAR
“BROOKLYN ROCKSTAR was an amazingly sexy & exciting Rockstar-Romance!” ~BJ’s Book Blog
“Jennifer Ann gave me all I could want in a sexy, bad boy rocker with way too much of most things. Who would have thought he would have self-esteem issues. I got a great read and a hot story. Bring on the next book.” ~Miley the Book Junkie Reads
I read it in one sitting (and it's not a small book) it was that good! The writing is phenomenal, the characters were amazing, and I can't wait to read the next book! ~Annalisa Nicole, author of I See…Love
Sexy bad boy Charlie Walker had everything he could ever want as a rockstar: a platinum album, a cushioned bank account, and an endless supply of groupies desperate to have him. But things changed when the band's drummer went missing, forcing Charlie to go it alone and question if he truly has what it takes to succeed in the business.
Small-town girl Evelyn Kendall has just arrived in Brooklyn Heights. With a new job and her best friend as a roommate, she's ready for an epic adventure free from her family’s constant supervision. She's not prepared for the muscle-bound, tattooed star who appears out of nowhere and rocks her world.
When Charlie locks gazes with the freckled brunette at his first solo gig, he falls hard and fast for reasons he can’t explain. Determined to keep Evelyn in his life, he’s ready to change his ways, even if they run blood deep. But will their instant attraction be enough to weather the storm brought on by the perils of fame, Charlie’s secrets, and Evelyn’s overly protective brothers?
Warning: This book is filled with sexy bad boys and strong leading ladies. If you’re looking for an engaging read with panty-melting love scenes, then you’ve come to the right place.
ONE
CHARLIE
Small, warm hands wandering across my chest, a set of hard tits pushing into my back, and an unshaven pussy rubbing against my bare ass wake me from a hard sleep. With a deep breath, an obnoxious stench of floral perfume or whatever else chicks spray themselves with fills my lungs.
Christ. I brought one home?
“Morning, sexy,” a woman’s voice purrs.
My eyes open to the familiar surroundings of my bedroom in Brooklyn Heights. Guitar leaning against the rustic night stand built by my grandfather, jeans and T-shirt from the night before in a crumpled pile in the middle of the rugged wooden floor—as if I stripped out of them in a damn hurry. Both a sure sign I was up late entertaining.
Not only does my skull feel ready to explode, but there’s a funky taste in my mouth of Fireball and cigarettes, which is never a good sign. A string of scattered flashes replays the events from the night before. My last memories are of leaving the bars for a private house in the Bronx where I played beer pong as several hot women hung on my every word. But I don’t remember much after that. I must’ve been bombed out of my mind to actually invite someone over.
Massaging my throbbing head with my fingers, I twist around to face the naked chick grinding into my backside. I’m met with eager, dark eyes surrounded by fake eyelashes that are starting to come off. Her facial features are typical of the Jewish girls I knew growing up—long and slender nose with respectable cheek bones. She’s decent enough, but the blonde with her arm draped around the brunette’s waist, sitting tall to get a good look at me, is a total knockout. Her sultry lips bend with a tempting grin and the room begins to spin.
Holy shit. Not again.
Bits of conversations from the night before return as I lock gazes with her. California girl trying to get a break as a model. Madison something. Big fan, knows every word of Coney Island Kid by heart. Sad the band’s hot drummer went missing. Not looking for anything serious, just wanting to have a little fun. All things I’ve heard a hundred times before.
“Ready for round two?” the blonde asks, widening her eyes. “You passed out on us just when things were getting interesting.”
“Party’s over,” I say, pulling my body from the brunette’s eager clutches. If it weren’t for this brutal hangover, I’d possibly give in even though it’s a terrible idea. If just one of these chicks opens their mouths or took a picture of us together, it could all come crashing down. Again. “I’m sure it goes without saying, this needs to stay between the three of us.”
“Of course,” Madison answers, stretching as she pulls her long hair over her tanned shoulders. She’s a bit skinnier than I prefer, but her perfect tits stretch into the air along with the rest of her, their rosy centers perky and begging to be sucked. When my eyes travel down her body, finding her completely bare down below, my balls draw tight.
“We wouldn’t dream of telling one of the gossip sites, if that’s what you’re worried about,” the brunette says with a crooked smile.
I narrow my eyes on her, jaw clenched. “Get dressed and get out.” Moving from the bed, I’m aware both their eyes are locked on my hard-on as I snag my phone off the night stand and make my way to the bathroom. “Best be forgetting this address too. It isn’t even my place, it’s my brother’s.”
It’s likely on their way out they’ll see the memorabilia and pictures of me with other well-known musicians—if they haven’t already—and know it’s my place too, but I can’t risk the chance of them returning or sending their friends and the paparazzi my way. I’ve lived a nice quiet life since we bought the apartment and don’t want that to change.
Slamming the door to the bathroom, I text Lorenzo an SOS message before taking a good, hard look at myself in one of the mirrors. The cool blue eyes I inherited from my mom stare back at me lit with judgment and disappointment, puffy with a short night of sleep. I may as well be standing face-to-face with my asshole father, the man who first taught me to see women as mere objects. Running a hand through my dark hair sticking up every-which-way, I sigh. After last night, it’s becoming clear that fame has turned me into a womanizing dick.
At first I was somewhat relieved when Danny’s sudden disappearance postponed the band’s tour since I was scared as shit for our first headliner. What if I don’t have the star power it takes to keep a three-hour show fresh and exciting?
Now, when I consider the fuck-up in the next room, maybe I would’ve been better off on the road, though the temptation to give into occasional hook-ups would’ve been even greater. And even though it has almost been a year, I sure as shit don’t want to deal with the fact that I’ll eventually have to find a new drummer.
I snub my nose at my reflection and toss my phone next to one of the sinks before turning on the shower nozzles. One foot is past the glass shower door when the heavy bathroom door creaks open and Madison slips inside, still naked. My eyes are drawn to her sweet tits like magnets.
“Thought maybe you wanted some help with that beautiful morning wood,” she says before biting her lip and backing up until the door closes. Gray blue eyes travel down the muscles on my chest, stopping at my cock. “Don’t pretend you don’t want me, Charlie. I saw you get hard when you were looking at my body.”
Tilting my head back to the tiled ceiling, I groan. I’ve always had a problem saying no to beautiful women throwing themselves at me. In my defense, there isn’t a living guy on the planet that could turn down the kind of women desperate to taste my cock or take it for a ride.
“I’ll give it to you any way you want it,” Madison purrs, stepping closer.
She doesn’t stop until our naked bodies are pressed together and her lips are temptingly close to mine. “You were amazing last night. I want to get you off again.”
My dick shifts against her belly, conceding to her offer. Her firm tits poking into my chest are like fucking heaven and nearly make me come on her soft skin. How do I not remember sleeping with her?
“Fuck me, Charlie,” she pleads, wrapping her hand around my shaft. “I promise to make you come so hard you’ll forget every other girl you had before me.”
What the hell. I’ve already made the mistake of bringing them home and apparently slept with her at least once already. With a deep grunt, I scoop her up and set her ass on the stone vanity. Madison arches backward, giving me easy access to her ripe, double Ds. I squeeze one before latching my mouth around it, biting and sucking until she’s gasping beneath me and pulling my hair with both hands. Their unnatural hardness is a major turn-off as I massage them with my fingers. It doesn’t take a plastic surgeon to know she’s had implants.
“Bite ‘em harder!” she cries.
A harsh laugh falls from my lips. They’re probably numb as fuck after being removed and sewn back on. She may not even notice if I bit them off. Fake eyelashes, fake tits, can’t anyone be fucking real anymore?
