Reckless Love

by Alexis Anne

  RECKLESS LOVE

  ALEXIS ANNE

  Reckless Love

  Copyright © 2018 by Alexis Sykes

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Alexis Anne

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  Newsletter

  Social Media

  More from Alexis Anne

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Reckless... Nights

  From Alexis…

  Thank You

  More from Alexis Anne

  Sneak Peek: Tease

  Sneak Peek: When Lightning Strikes

  —The Storm Inside Series—

  Welcome To The World Of Tease

  About the Author

  NEWSLETTER

  If you’d like updates about my books, sign up for my newsletter!

  SOCIAL MEDIA

  Signup for Alexis’s Newsletter

  Goodreads

  Bookbub

  Instagram

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Alexis Anne’s Facebook Reader Group

  AlexisAnneBooks.com

  MORE FROM ALEXIS ANNE

  The Storm Inside Series:

  The Storm Inside

  Reflected in the Rain

  When Lightning Strikes

  Never Let Go

  Summer Heat

  Night Games

  Last Fall

  * * *

  Reckless Kiss

  Reckless Love

  * * *

  The Tease Series:

  Tease

  Stripped

  Tempt

  Burn

  5 Dirty Sins

  6 Dirty Secrets

  7 Dirty Lies

  * * *

  The Calusa Key Series:

  Come For Me, Darling

  Go Away, Darling

  Kiss Me, Darling

  * * *

  The Complete List of Alexis Anne Books

  Sign up for my newsletter!

  “It’s only in this moment that I have no other motivations or desires. I’m at my most pure. It’s Leo that matters. It’s our love. Nothing else exists in the universe.”

  CHAPTER 1

  ESME

  Nine months earlier . . .

  I was nervous. So fucking nervous. I hadn’t been set up in ages. Ages upon ages. I’d gone on a “sex fast” two years, four months, and seventeen days ago. Yep, I was counting. I used to know the hours and minutes as well. I was a very sexual person and to go from having all kinds of sex on the regular to nothing was a shock to my system.

  But it was a needed shock.

  I’d known for a long time that I used sex to avoid my problems, used my lovers to pretend the world didn’t exist, but at some point I’d become addicted to it. Couldn’t function without it. That was when I knew I needed to make a drastic change.

  Cold turkey seemed to be the only solution.

  But my father was back and if I didn’t find a way to make my hands stop shaking I was probably going to make some other really bad decisions. Alcohol and drugs were not good solutions to dealing with problems. I was discussing my need for a nice night out—just one—when a friend of mine mentioned he knew the perfect guy.

  I was looking at that guy now through the front windows of a restaurant. Leo Hancock. My friend swore up and down Leo was a really wonderful guy who would take care of me and leave it at that. No strings, no complications, no judgment.

  I hated judgment.

  Why couldn’t a girl want a night of good sex without it coming with questions and assumptions of character? I liked orgasms. I liked human contact. Sue me. I just needed one night to get the shakes to stop so I could get back to dealing with all my problems.

  But as I stood there staring at this man I got a very strange feeling in my gut. The kind that said tonight was going to be different. He sat at the bar smiling and joking with the bartender while sipping what looked like a bourbon. Beside him sat the book he told me he’d have so I could identify him. I knew this was Leo, but damn, did he have to be so good looking?

  I didn’t have a type. Not really. I guess my type was commanding and good at fucking. I liked them tall, short, fit, overweight, blond, brunette, serious, or sweet. All that really mattered to me was that we were compatible in the sack. A good lay was a good lay.

  Leo looked like a hell of a lot more than a good lay. He looked dangerous to my sanity. He was the kind of guy I could get addicted to. Tall, fit, dark hair perfectly styled, a suit obviously tailored just for him, excellent shoes (yes I could see the black leather from outside), and an easy-going smile that made me wet.

  If he was half as nice as he seemed from out here I’d be done for. I thought about walking away but every step I took hurt. I needed this. Where else could I get relief from someone I could trust? Nowhere. I’d completely severed my past. There was no going back to where I once was. I couldn’t ask anyone I worked with. I wasn’t dating. That left paying for it or trusting this recommendation.

  Or, I supposed, staying celibate.

  I closed my eyes and pictured going home alone, crawling into bed, and trying to sleep. My skin instantly began itching. I hadn’t had a good night of sleep since Edmund announced he purchased the Renegades.

  No, it was meet Leo Hancock or lose my damn mind.

  So inside I went.

  Getting closer was a mistake if I wanted to be able to leave. Every step seemed to magnify the sensations I felt. It was as if there were a sexual vibration to the air and Leo’s melody matched my lyrics.

  All throughout dinner we avoided topics of real substance. We didn’t discuss childhoods or jobs. We stuck to hobbies, food, and the important details of our upcoming night. I was on birth control, he would wear a condom at all times, I would leave by morning and he would never contact me again.

  And all the while my body came back to life. Perhaps celibacy was a bad decision after all. Sure it had forced me to deal with my life and focus on my work, but now I was verging on losing all my control. I was starved and this man—this kind, intelligent stranger—was about to be mine.

  I swallowed hard because my mouth kept watering. I wanted to know how he tasted. I bet his skin was salty. I wanted his mouth on me. It was full and the way he smiled made me think he knew what to do with those lips.

  I was so damn horny I was pretty sure a touch would be all I needed to dive right over the edge like I was a sixteen year old boy losing his virginity.

  Celibacy was definitely a bad choice.

  I crossed my legs. “I’m ready whenever you are.” My sex throbbed against the pressure. Fuck. I was so completely screwed. I wouldn’t want one orgasm; I’d want three or four. At least. I knew how I was.

  Of course was should be the operative word. But it wasn’t as if I had fundamentally changed. From the moment I experienced my first orgasm I’d been this way. Always craving the next one and the next one. Searching for . . . something. Seeking that high.

  Maybe that was the problem in the end. I never knew what it was I needed, only that I hadn’t found it yet.

&n
bsp; Leo waved for the check. He was like magic. The waiter appeared and in moments our bill was paid and I was being escorted down the street. He kept his hand on my lower back and while he walked closely beside me he wasn’t overbearing. It was protective.

  “I just live a couple of blocks away. I thought we could walk?”

  Honestly, the cooler evening air felt good. It was helping calm me down. “I enjoy walking.”

  “Your feet will be okay?”

  I glanced down at the heels I always wore. “I can walk anywhere in these.”

  Leo grinned and for the first time all night I saw a slip in his armor. He tried (and succeeded, I might mention) to keep a calm and respectful exterior in place at all times. He clearly appreciated what he saw and looked forward to our planned exercises, but he wasn’t crude. It made me want him even more, actually. I craved ripping that mask away and unleashing the beast that lurked inside each man.

  It was an addiction that unfortunately went both ways. As much as I craved conquering I also desired being conquered.

  “If at any point I do something you don’t like simply say stop,” he murmured against my ear as he indicated a turn in direction.

  “Of course.”

  “And always feel free to tell me if you want something in particular.”

  I studied him out of the corner of my eye. He stood straight and confidently—a man who was comfortable in his own skin. “What are your limits?” I asked.

  Everyone had limits.

  He smiled. “I have very few. I won’t hurt you no matter how you ask, so don’t.”

  Fair. Especially between strangers. “What else?”

  “That’s about it. I’ve done it all.”

  I found that hard to believe so I quizzed him. I asked about bondage, anal, missionary, slow and smooth versus hard and fast. I could tell by the smile and light in his eyes that he was truthful. He really did like it all.

  And that . . . made me very wet indeed. Perhaps two nights might be more realistic after all.

  “I suggest,” he said very quietly, almost a rumble of sound, “that we take things one step at a time. Despite any preconceived notions either of us might have, each experience is different. I find it best that we explore.”

  I loved the way he spoke. It was different than anyone else I’d ever known. There was a soft cadence to his voice that wasn’t terribly American. He chose words that I didn’t expect. If I were to guess I’d expect at least one parent or guardian was British.

  “I agree, Leo. I’m actually very excited. You’ve been a breath of fresh air.” The breeze chose that moment to gust around us. My hair swirled and so did his tie.

  I caught it in my hand, wrapping it around my fist.

  His eyes locked on it. The key twisted. The door swung open.

  And a moment later I found my back pressed up against it as Leo kissed the hell out of me.

  JUST AS I predicted I came almost immediately. We were both fully clothed and all I was doing was grinding against his strong leg as he gripped my hair and kissed me.

  Yes, it was a damn good kiss, but it was more from simple lack of satisfaction.

  “Holy fuck, Esme.”

  I gripped his powerful biceps as I panted, coming down off the quick high. “It’s been a while.”

  He growled, sucked on my neck and unzipped my skirt. “You’re so fucking responsive.”

  The skirt hit the floor and I stepped out (heels still on.) He murmured a nonstop stream of affirmations, adorations, and beautiful swear words as we undressed, our hands roaming and learning between deep kisses.

  I can’t wait to make you feel even better.

  That ass, Esme. And your tits, fucking gorgeous. Your skin . . . I don’t even know where to start.

  I explored the surface of his lean muscles, kissed the line of his hip bones and palmed his cock while his fingers kneaded my muscles and traced the hills and valleys of my body. I expressed my satisfaction with moans and he encouraged my continued survey of his body with gentle affirmations.

  I was so sensitized that any movement seemed to turn me on. So when he brushed the pads of his thumbs over my nipples my body bowed from the tension.

  “Again?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  But instead he cupped my breasts, weighed and massaged them, then began drawing circles. “So sensitive.”

  I arched forward, willing him to pinch me. He didn’t. He kept up his slow, delightful torture.

  “You know,” he rumbled, “too many people rush. They miss the pleasure that can be attained from a slow, sensual teasing.”

  “I hate to be teased.”

  He brushed the tips of my nipples. “You’re lying. You fucking love it.”

  I shuddered. He was wrong but I was discovering he was also right. “I like it fast and hard and with a little pain.”

  “No you don’t,” he whispered over my lips. He finally gave me a very light pinch.

  I closed my eyes and sank into the sensations.

  He kissed me once. “Your body responds to slow. Maybe it’s just your mind that wants fast.” He pinched again. Not hard. Just enough to keep his fingertips clamped around me. He didn’t move or tug.

  All I’d ever known was fast. It was what I thought I needed to block out my mind. Maybe I’d been wrong all this time. “Show me.”

  He sat me on the edge of the bed then knelt in front of me. He kept up his slow teasing of my left breast while his hand skated down my body. He didn’t go straight to my pussy, though. He took his time. He caressed my skin and hips, he massaged my thighs as he wrapped them around him. Then and only then did he dip his hand between us.

  Again it was a slow massage. He moved his powerful fingers over my lips and up to the tip of my clit. He applied pressure in long strokes. Then he dipped down and took my nipple into his soft, warm mouth. At the same time he slid his middle finger inside me.

  I cried out because I swear I was about to come again. But I didn’t. He sucked on me while his fingers worked a long path in and around my channel. One finger became two. My entire body tensed.

  Then everything was gone as I was moved to the center of his large King-sized bed. Leo came at me. It was the best kind of show. His eyes were dark and hooded. His cock large and throbbing, bobbing as he rolled on a condom. Every muscle in his shoulders rolled with tension.

  Fuck, how I wanted him like this.

  “You have the most beautiful pussy, Esme. Truly. It’s pink like a flower and soft like a petal.”

  No one had ever said such sweet things to me before. I always thought I’d hate it. That it would ring false and insincere, but coming from Leo it was perfect.

  “I love the way you feel against my tongue,” he continued as he spread me wide. “You taste divine.” Then he sank into me. One glorious inch at a time. He didn’t pull back and thrust in. Instead he simply pressed forward, taking his time, waiting for my body to stretch for him.

  I felt every hard inch. Felt each bite of pleasure and pain. He was such a perfect size. Not so long he bottomed out early, and not so thick it took time to accommodate him.

  Perfect.

  When he was buried to the hilt he took my hips in his hands and slid back out just as slowly. It was a fucking mind game and a physical pleasure all rolled into one. He did this several times, using his full length to tease me. I liked the way it looked too. I liked the sight of his hands on my hips as he pumped into me. I thought that was exactly what I needed.

  That was until he moved over me and pressed my arms into the mattress, making it impossible to move.

  “This is what you want, Esme. I can see it in your eyes. You want slow. You need teasing. And then you need to take it, don’t you?”

  I shivered. “God, yes.”

  “Say you want it.”

  “I want it.”

  He pressed even deeper until his hips were flush with mine. “Be specific. Tell me what to do.”

  My core pulsed and fluttered around h
is erection. I could barely keep my eyes open because fireworks were going off behind my eyes. I was so close. I wanted oblivion. “Fuck me, Leo.”

  He pulled back. “How?”

  “Hard.”

  He slammed into me. I gasped from the shock of it. “Tell me you want me to hold you down. If you don’t I’ll let you go.”

  I forced my mind to work, made myself comprehend what he was asking. That was when I really took stock of our positions. His much larger, more powerful body above mine. The weight of him.

  How he filled me.

  And then there was the sensation of being helpless. Always one of my favorites. I couldn’t move, not with his body between my legs, his thick cock inside me, and his powerful hands holding me down. It was a rush.

  “I,” I whispered, trying to find my voice, “I want you to take what you want from me.” I genuinely thought that was what I wanted. What I needed. It had always been this way.

  “No.” He released me, eased out, but not completely. “That’s not what you want. It’s what you think you want. Be honest, Esme.”