Pretty Broken Bastard

by Jeana E. Mann

  “Oh God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” he begged. “Jesus, your mouth. So sweet.” He pushed into my throat. I gagged then swallowed, regaining control. He cursed as my muscles convulsed around him. “Fuck, you’re good. That’s it. Perfect. Don’t stop. Deeper.”

  When the hot, salty taste of his release hit the back of my mouth, I smiled up at him. He smiled back, stroking a finger over my cheek. Our eyes met, and I came undone. I didn’t want to have feelings for him, but I could no longer separate my desire from my emotions. There was something so tender and vulnerable in his touch. I blinked away tears of confusion. It was hard to remain distant when his eyes brimmed with heat and tenderness that matched my own.

  He pulled me to my feet. Without a word, he poured a dollop of his shampoo into one of his palms and massaged it through my hair. I closed my eyes, enjoying the strength of his fingers on my scalp. Next, he took the loofah from its hook, loaded it with his shower gel, and began scrubbing my arms. I stood still and childlike, enjoying the attention. No part of my body escaped his attention. He took particular care between my legs. When I winced at the ache of his fingers on my tender flesh, he froze.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m a little bit sore from last night,” I said, not wanting him to stop. “But it feels good.”

  “I rode you hard, didn’t I?” It was more of a smug male statement than a question, so I didn’t answer. He brushed his lips over my forehead. My pussy began to ache, this time from need. Screw the soreness. I wanted him again. I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get enough of his big hands on my body or his ridiculously large penis inside me.

  Once he’d finished washing me, I returned the favor. It gave me a chance to admire his body. I traced the thick veins running down his biceps, ran my palms over his smooth skin, pausing to tug on his nipple ring with my teeth. He grunted but didn’t move. The twitch of his cock, hanging long and thick between his legs, told me he liked it a little rough. When I reached his ass, I bent down and bit his left cheek. He burst into laughter.

  “What’s that for?”

  “You have the nicest ass I’ve ever seen.”

  “Well, that makes two of us,” he said. He drew my front against his, cupping my bottom in his big hands. My chest swelled with love and lust. I rested my chin on his chest and blinked up at him. He brushed his fingers along my face, from temple to chin. “Damn, girl.”

  The confusing swell of emotions kicked up again. Standing like this, naked and vulnerable, seemed the most natural thing in the world and filled me with happiness. The warmth of his strong arms around me, the nudge of his cock against my belly, brought a contentment I’d never known before.

  With a thick, fluffy towel, he dried me from head to toe. When he was finished, he tapped the tip of my nose with a finger. “Go lie on the bed. Knees up. Spread your legs wide.”

  “Why?” My hands shook as I pushed my damp hair away from my face.

  “Don’t ask questions.” The smile slipped from his face. My belly flip flopped at the darkness in his tone. “I’m going to put my mouth here.” He slipped a finger through my folds. I murmured in approval, pressing into his hand, already slick and needy. “I’m going to make this pussy mine.”

  Chapter 27

  Jo

  A few weekends later, I came home from the coffee shop to find Carter and Rhett in the garage with my father. Their laughter carried all the way to the front yard. Dad wore a faded pair of blue jeans, a clean T-shirt, and an enormous smile. He greeted me with a hug.

  “Hey, kiddo. How was work?” he asked.

  “Fine. What’s going on out here?” I studied the men suspiciously. In my limited experience, the three of them were mayhem in the making.

  “We’re working on the Olds,” Dad said. “It’s about time we got it up and running, don’t you think?”

  “Yes.” I smiled back at him. The change in his appearance brought a lump to my throat. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Hey.” Carter emerged from underneath the hood and stalked toward me, a wrench in one hand. My mouth went dry at the sight of him and all those glorious muscles. He put his free hand on my ass, yanked my body against his, and ravaged my mouth with a long, deep kiss.

  “Hey,” I replied breathlessly once he let go. My head spun from the heat of his lips. I placed a hand on the wall until my balance returned.

  “Did you have a good day?” His golden-brown eyes searched mine.

  “Yes, but it’s even better now.” Everything seemed better with him around. We’d seen each other daily since the wedding. He came by the shop for coffee in the mornings, and he called or texted before bed each evening. In just a few short weeks, he’d integrated into my life until I couldn’t imagine going a full day without him.

  Rhett grinned at us over the top of the car.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I asked Carter.

  “Don’t mind me,” Rhett said, his face turning deep red from a buildup of suppressed laughter. “But apparently this is the day that hell freezes over.”

  “I’ll alert the media,” Dad said dryly, but he was smiling too.

  “Knock it off, Easton, Mr. H,” Carter growled, but his eyes softened as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Ignore them.” I beamed up at him, enjoying the dynamic playing out between the men. He smoothed a hand down my back. “I picked up a little something for you today. It’s in the house. Why don’t you go get it?”

  “Okay.” I narrowed my eyes at him, mindful of his penchant for mischief. “What is it?”

  “Just go look.” One corner of his mouth curled up in the playful smirk I’d come to love.

  After a shrug, I crossed the backyard and climbed the steps to the kitchen stoop. When I opened the door, a ball of white fur flashed past my legs. Chaos erupted inside my chest. Zipper yipped and yelped, licking my ankles, squirming and wiggling in canine ecstasy.

  “Zipper! Oh, my goodness. Come here, buddy,” I said, my voice breaking with emotion. He leaped into my arms, bestowing furious kisses on my chin. “Good boy.” Tears burned the back of my throat. I glanced around for Carter. He stood beside me. Dad and Rhett hovered in the background. “Who— What— How did you do this?”

  He shrugged, eyes sparkling. “I paid your boyfriend a visit today. I took a few of my guys with me. Harold was more than happy to hand over your dog once we had a little discussion.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” With Zipper tucked under my arm, I placed my free hand on Carter’s stubbled cheek. “You’re my boyfriend.”

  “Damn straight,” he replied, his smile widening.

  Our eyes met. An overwhelming rush of contentment swept through me from head to toe. My feelings had escalated from lust to love while I hadn’t been looking. I still wanted him more than anything in the world, but our bond went deeper than physical desire. I trusted him, and I knew without a doubt, that he’d never intentionally hurt me.

  In a voice too low for anyone’s ears but his, I said, “You’re getting fucked within an inch of your life tonight.”

  “Yes!” He wrapped an arm around my waist and escorted me back to the garage. Zipper sniffed and cavorted at our heels. I couldn’t take my eyes off the dog or my boyfriend. It was too good to be true. But this was my new reality, and I meant to enjoy every minute of it.

  “I think we should have a toast,” Dad said, handing me a beer. The four of us lifted our bottles. “To Zipper, the little bastard. He’d better not shit in my shoes like he used to. And to Carter. I knew the minute you came to the door that you’d be the one to tame my little princess. Welcome to the family, son. I hope you stick around a while.”

  “Me too.” I spoke the words aloud before I realized what I’d said. Carter blinked, his expression sobering. Panic chilled my veins. The last thing I wanted was to scare him off by being too clingy or needy. “I mean—”

  He pressed a finger to my lips. “Stop talking, Hollander. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Epilogu
e

  Carter

  For the tenth time in the space of an hour, I patted my pockets. One year ago, on this very date, I’d tackled Clarence Mortimer Benson III in Joe’s Java Junction and found the love of my life. My breathing stuttered. “Shit. I think I lost the ring,” I said, my voice high and broken like a boy in puberty.

  “It’s right here, buddy,” Rhett said. He lifted his hand, where Jo’s wedding band encircled his little finger. “Calm down. You’re going to stroke out before we get to the judge.”

  “I’m okay.” I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the panic.

  “You’ll be fine. I promise.” His mirthful tone forced me to open my eyes. “You can always call the whole thing off. You can sneak out the side door. I’ll go tell Jo.”

  “No way. Are you fucking nuts?” Hearing his teasing words put the world into perspective. This was my wedding day. In a few short minutes, I’d be exchanging vows with the girl of my dreams. Nothing short of a zombie apocalypse could tear me away from her side.

  “Excellent. The girls are waiting. Let’s get this show on the road.” He opened the door of the men’s room and flourished a hand. “After you.” We took two strides into the hallway before he stopped. “Wait. I forgot something.”

  “Jesus Christ, Easton. You’re killing me here,” I growled. “Now what?” The serious glint of his eyes tied my guts in knots. “You lost the ring, didn’t you? Fuck.”

  He placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I just want to say I’m proud of you, man. Really proud.” His voice broke a little on the last word. He cleared his throat. “I never thought I’d see this day. Thank you for letting me witness this amazing event.” The mischief returned to his eyes. “And also, back in eighth grade, you made a bet with me that you’d never get married. I’ll expect you to deliver your ten-speed bike to my apartment by the end of the week.”

  “Dick,” I said, feeling my throat close with emotion. I pretended to punch him in the abs. “As I recall, you borrowed that bike and never gave it back.”

  “Oh, yeah. Right.” He shrugged then paused to straighten my tie. “My bad.”

  We pushed through the doors together. Jo stood on the other side, pale and anxious. There were other people in the room, but I only had eyes for her. Sunlight glinted off the brown waves of her hair, worn loose especially for me. Her lips curved into a smile at the sight of me, her complexion warming as I got closer.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.” She smiled up at me with enormous blue eyes, glassy with unshed tears.

  “Why are you shaking?” The leaves of her simple bouquet trembled violently. I stroked a finger over the curve of her cheek, a herd of butterflies pinging around in my stomach. Maybe she was having second thoughts. “Are you scared?”

  “No, I thought you might change your mind.”

  “No way. You’re never getting rid of me.” I gave her a wink. “Not without a court order, anyway.”

  After the judge pronounced us man and wife, I kissed Jo and took her hand in mine. We turned in unison to face our witnesses. Bronte beamed at us. Rhett gave me a high-five and kissed Jo on the cheek. Mr. H shook my hand effusively until I thought my arm would fall off. And Darcy sobbed throughout the entire ten-minute ceremony.

  On the courthouse steps, Darcy leaned in to give me a hug. “I’m so happy for you, Carter. You deserve this.”

  “Thanks.” I squeezed her hand, grateful for her friendship.

  My mother, expecting a visit from the senator, hadn’t even bothered to respond to the invitation, but I was okay with it. She had her life to live, and I had mine. Someday, when the senator tired of her, I’d be there to pick up the pieces. In the meantime, I had a new family to call my own, and the love of my life to thank for them.

  Before You Go

  DID YOU ENJOY READING THIS BOOK?

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  If you leave a review, please send me an email at jeanamann@yahoo.com or a message on Facebook so that I can thank you with a personal email.

  Also by Jeana E. Mann

  Felony Romance Series

  Intoxicated

  Unexpected

  Vindicated

  Impulsive

  Drift

  Committed

  Pretty Broken Series

  Pretty Broken Girl

  Pretty Filthy Lies

  Pretty Dirty Secrets

  Pretty Wild Thing

  Pretty Broken Promises

  Pretty Broken Dreams

  Pretty Broken Baby (2017)

  Pretty Broken Hearts (2017)

  Pretty Broken Bastard (2017)

  About the Author

  Jeana Mann is the author of sizzling hot contemporary romance. Her debut release Intoxicated was a First Place Winner of the Cleveland Rocks Romance Contest, the Carolyn Readers’ Choice Awards, International Digital Awards, and the eLit Book Awards. She is a member of Romance Writers’ of America (RWA).

  Jeana was born and raised in Indiana where she lives today with her two crazy rat terriers Mildred and Mabel. She graduated from Indiana University with a degree in Speech and Hearing, something totally unrelated to writing. When she’s not busy dreaming up steamy romance novels, she loves to travel anywhere and everywhere. Over the years she climbed the ruins of Chichen Iza in Mexico, snorkeled along the shores of Hawaii, driven the track at the Indy 500, sailed around Jamaica, ate gelato on the steps of the Pantheon in Rome, and explored the ancient city of Pompeii. More important than the places she’s been are the people she has met along the way.

  Be sure to connect with Jeana on Facebook or follow along on Twitter for the latest news regarding her upcoming releases.

  Connect with Jeana at

  www.jeanaemann.net

  jeanamann@yahoo.com

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  Copyright © 2017 by Jeana E. Mann

  All rights reserved.

  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.

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  A Note from the Author

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at jeanamann@yahoo.com

  All characters and events in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, alive or deceased, is purely coincidental.

 

 

 
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