by Nikki Wild
Furiously, I fought against the restraints again, but they were so tight. I couldn’t get any leverage to even begin to free my wrists.
Instead, I had to lie there and accept my fate.
I mean, there are worse fates.
But this? This was absolute torture.
…Torture of the most satisfying kind.
“Are you ready for me?” He whispered, pausing his diabolical teasing for just a moment as I caught my breath.
Biting my lower lip flirtatiously but needfully, I nodded enthusiastically to him.
“Good,” he murmured, but his tone…
Something was off.
Only then did I realize the mistake.
He wanted me to stay enthusiastic.
But would it change his behavior?
Would he finally fit himself inside me?
His satisfied groan as he resumed teasing the lining of my drenched, sopping pussy told me that no, it didn’t change a goddamn thing.
UGH.
GOD.
DAMN.
IT.
ALL.
TO.
HELL.
“If you don’t fuck me now, I swear to all that is out there that I will make you absolutely regret this,” I cursed him.
“You sound like you mean that,” he chuckled.
“Look. Me. In. The. Eyes.”
“I can’t…got a little something in the way,” he laughed cockily as he continued teasing my body.
“Ohhhh…you are going to feel my wrath,” I started giggling madly. “I am going to rip you to pieces when I’m free from these!”
For emphasis, I tugged violently at the bindings.
“I’m sure you are,” he whispered, “but I need to believe that you’ll never run off like that again. And the only way to be sure is to condition you…through a marathon of mind-breaking teasing. Wouldn’t you say so?”
“Trent, I am never going to run again,” I pleaded desperately. “Never. Ever.”
“It’s you and me,” he told me.
“That’s right. You and me.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
I didn’t even realize what I was saying until after I’d spoken the words, but I gasped with understanding.
Did he mean that?
Did he want me to stay forever?
I didn’t have time to dwell on this, because suddenly, his cock slammed hard into me.
My body was driven over the edge as he began furiously fucking me, his weight pushing down over me.
He was fiddling with something briefly to the side, and then the back to my chair collapsed down.
With a slight, padded thud, I realized that I was on my back, my bindings still securing me in place, and he was pushing down on top of me. His majestic, furious cock was penetrating me, over and over, again and again…
And I almost immediately came harder than I thought was humanly possible.
My brain practically whited out in complete, ethereal bliss as the punishing string of climaxes robbed me of all rational thought. The intense collective release left a tremendous ache all across my body. It was only as I began regaining my senses that I realized my tension had loosened my bindings.
Within an instant, I’d ripped my wrists free and thrown myself up from him, tearing the blindfold from my eyes.
As I glared down at Trent, sitting up to face me, his surprise fell way to what was almost fear.
“You look pissed,” he stammered out.
With a snarl, I descended, shoving him onto his back on the unfolded patio chair, where I had just been lying.
“MY TURN,” I furiously told him.
Grabbing his long cock with my hand, I lowered myself down onto it.
“You’ve been in control all this time…”
I moaned hungrily, feeling the overwhelming power of his cock slipping deep inside me. With a deep gasp, I struggled to keep my mind clear.
“…And now, I’m in control. Because you and I… We are partners now. Equals.”
Trent’s lip curled, but he didn’t contest this.
I lowered myself down hard onto his cock, and we both shuddered together with pleasure.
“And that means, from now on…we’re on the same page, you and I…”
I thrust down again.
“No secrets…”
And again.
“No fears…”
And again.
“No running away.”
Trent’s fingertips dug deep into my skin as he threw his head back in ecstasy. I don’t think he remembered what it was like to relinquish even a tiny bit of control.
“You and me, Angel,” he whispered seductively. “You and me against the fucking world.”
“That’s right,” I murmured, leaning forward to grasp onto his shoulders. I rolled my hips into his, and he thrust up to meet my movements. “You and I are a team. And from this point on… I won’t run, and you won’t control. We’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”
“You’re goddamn right,” he smiled.
I leant down, sealing the promise with a kiss. It wasn’t a hungry, lustful kiss between us – but that doesn’t mean it was any less passionate than any other kiss we’d ever had.
As we pulled away, we were in a different world together.
We were unified.
We were one.
We were together, in body and mind.
“Are you ready for this?” I whispered.
“Show me what you’ve got,” he grinned cockily.
I rolled my hips down against his again, harder than ever, and he practically let loose in the instant.
“For the rest of tonight, I’m calling the shots,” I told him. “And you’re going to be okay with that.”
“I already am.”
“Good,” I cooed, rocking against his body.
And for the rest of the night, we didn’t fuck. We weren’t at it like hungry, ravenous teenagers, sloppily banging with complete, animalistic abandon.
Instead…
We made wild, passionate, furious love.
And it was the second-best night of my life.
As for the best night…
Thirty-Seven
One Year Later
As I nodded tearfully with what must have been a ridiculously goofy smile, the roomful of pop stars and rock musicians burst into thunderously cheerful applause. Trent, happier than I had ever seen him, almost fumbled the ring as he slipped it up onto my finger.
Living with a mega rockstar for twelve months had been an enlightening experience. I’d adjusted to his world now – the endless promos, the record deals, even the paparazzi.
Trent Masters and the Whiplash dissolved a few weeks after we arrived back home, citing “creative differences.”
Of course, I knew what really happened.
It had ended with split lips and broken bones.
The other musicians were off doing their own thing – the last I’d heard of them, they had tried to pull together a new band with pair of new singers, but were inwardly struggling to define their sound. It wasn’t looking hopeful.
And that was before dreadlocked Waylon wound up with possible charges of sex with a fan just below the age of consent. It was still inconclusive, but from what Trent had told me… it was probably inevitable.
Trent, meanwhile, had rescued his old bassist from that fate. Terence, ever quiet and studious, was a talented professional of several instruments. With Trent on vocals, acoustic, and electric guitar, Terence handled bass, piano, and occasionally violin duties.
But they still needed a third.
I politely declined when they originally approached me to play drums. I didn’t have any professional training, but they were convinced that my ability to keep rhythm was all I needed to get started. I practiced day and night…
Turned out, it worked. The two of them kept throwing out words like “a natural” and “drumming prodigy”, but I didn’t really believe any of that. I wanted this, and t
hese days, I was willing to work hard and take what I wanted.
Together, we called ourselves The Tonic Electronic, quickly striking out a single that surprisingly found its way onto on the Billboard Top Ten. A few months later came our debut EP, up for critical acclaim and routine radio play.
I just liked the feel of the drumsticks in my hands. Although we knew we weren’t going to tour much, I loved knowing that I was onstage with my lover and our friend – making music that drew large, dedicated crowds.
It didn’t hurt that, while I completely trusted Trent, I got to watch him routinely turn down thirsty, lustful groupies and send them towards our very grateful stud of a musician.
Trent’s repeat success had also drawn the attention of a major label veteran – and that friendship quickly blossomed into mentorship. Guided every step of the way, he was weeks away from formally debuting his own label, Whiplash Records.
Not only were we self-representing, a couple of other singers wanting to go solo had already headhunted Trent to support them. He was just putting the finishing touches on the proper team of studio professionals to see their careers rise.
Some of them were here this night, watching Trent propose to me. I’d naively thought this was some kind of a label pre-launch party, which is why I’d been surprised when other Top 40 musicians had been present.
As the champagne popped, and musical celebrities came to offer their congratulations, I realized that I had found my place in the world – a place beside the man who had always looked out for me and kept the evil men in my life away.
With that said, though, my distorted memories from before the accident were probably never going to come back…
But you know what?
I didn’t need them.
This new life of mine that Trent and I had forged together was perfect, just the way that it was. And now, with his ring on my finger, I knew that we were going to be happy together for the rest of our lives… I even took the time to let Old Greg know about it… It just felt right.
While we enjoyed the company of our friends, my fingers slipped into my pocket for my phone. I was going to make a post to Facebook for our fans to see. That’s when my fingers brushed against the folded sheet of paper – the results from my surprise exam earlier today.
I hadn’t even told him my big surprise yet.
Trent was going to be a daddy.
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Other Novels by Nikki Wild
Bad Boy Sports
Play Dirty (A Bad Boy Football Romance)
Running Game (A Bad Boy Football Romance)
Bad Boy Fighters:
Knockout (A Bad Boy MMA Romance)
Bad Boy Bikers:
Saving Landon (A Bad Boy Biker Romance)
Saved by the Bad Boy (A Devil’s Dragons Biker Romance)
Pride and Pregnancy (A Devil’s Dragons Motorcycle Club Romance)
Roughneck (A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance)
Rough Rider (Outlaw Kings Motorcycle Club)
British Bad Boys:
Royal Prick (A Bad Boy British Romance)
Arrogant Brit (A Bad Boy British Sports Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
Played (A Bad Boy British Romance)
Bad Boy Rockstars:
Illicit Behavior (A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
Bad Boy Stepbrothers:
Lust (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
Richard (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
Bad Boy Billionaires:
Protect And Serve (A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance)
Pretend Married (A Sexy Billionaire Romance)
Taking Beauty (Taking Beauty Series Book 1)
Claiming Beauty (Taking Beauty Series Book 2)
Owning Beauty (Taking Beauty Series Book 3)
Taking Beauty
The Taking Beauty Series (Book 1)
One
“I won’t go,” I protested, firmly shaking my head. My black Frey boot tapped against the trendy cement floor of the restaurant.
My mother and her boss sat across the table from me. Bear Dalton, Chairman and CEO of Dalton Enterprises, crossed his sculpted arms over his chest, his deep blue eyes peering at me, his expression serious and somber.
You can’t intimidate me, I thought to myself, meeting his piercing gaze. He wasn’t my boss. He was my mother’s boss. I’d only met him once before and I didn’t know he was going to be here today.
“Look, you can go without me,” I said, turning back to my mother as I tried to muster a smile. Mom had worked her ass off for this job. She was one of those women. You know the type. Relentlessly ambitious, never satisfied with breaking just one glass ceiling, she wanted to break through them all.
She was on a mission to do just that. She’d been working for Bear’s firm for the last ten years, quickly working her way up the ladder, constantly vying for promotion after promotion.
And here it was — her golden ticket.
This job that Bear had offered her — Chief Financial Officer of Dalton Enterprises - was her latest obsession. I don’t use that word lightly. When Mom committed to something, she went all in. It went way past the point of commitment.
Trust me, I should know.
Our relationship has been the lone casualty of her undying devotion to her career. She missed so many school events that by the time I’d graduated from high school, most of my classmates were convinced I didn’t have parents at all.
It might as well have been that way.
My father left us high and dry years ago, his fantasy of greener pastures being fulfilled in the arms of a twenty-one year old intern in sunny Sausalito when I was just a baby.
Growing up, it was just the two of us, but Mom was rarely there, so really, it was mostly just me. That’s why I couldn't believe she was being so insistent on me moving to New York with her. Let her go to New York on her own.
What the hell did she need me for?
“You know I won’t be able to focus with you so far away, Chloe,” she insisted, her perfectly coiffed blonde bob bouncing around her face. “You can’t do this to me!”
Of course, it wasn’t that she cared about me, it was all about her.
It was always about her.
Despite never being around, she still wouldn’t let me be independent. She had some screwed up Mother Theresa complex. It was almost like the fact that I didn’t need her made her want me to need her even more. And yet she was never there in the first place. It was all screwed up and twisted.
I shouldn’t be making a scene in front of her boss, I knew that, but it was her fault because she’d cornered me like this. She’d invited me to lunch, teasing me with some ‘exciting news’ to share. I should have known something was up when she told me to meet her at Departure, the trendy sushi joint on top of the Nine’s hotel in downtown Portland.
It wasn’t that she didn’t do swanky, it’s just that she usually reserved going to places like that for business meetings or to impress clients.
Or her boss.
I knew he’d be here even before I saw the handsome man sitting at the table with her. I wasn’t expecting her to tell me she was moving to New York, and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to insist that I join her.
“My life is here. My
friends. My apartment. I’m out of school and I’m looking for a job. I’ll be fine without you. You’ll be fine without me…”
“This isn’t up for negotiation, Chloe,” she exclaimed, her voice a sharp knife of motherly disapproval, even though the smile on her face desperately tried to hide her anger. “Bear has given me an extraordinary opportunity, darling. New York is an exciting city. We’ve never lived there before. You’ll love it.”
I took a deep breath and stood up from the table.
“I’m twenty-six years old. I’m a grown-ass woman. We’ll be just fine living in separate cities. It’s time you let me go,” I said.
“But New York —,” she insisted.
“—New York is full of rats! It’s overcrowded, cold, and it smells like a sewer!” I interrupted. “Give it up. The answer is no!” I squared my shoulders, grabbed my purse and turned away, mustering all my strength as I put one foot in front of the other and walked out to the huge balcony looking out over the city.
“I’ll talk to her,” a deep voice boomed from behind. I ignored him and kept walking as I looked down on the Christmas lights and glittering Christmas tree standing in the center of Pioneer Square below. Mom hated when I walked away from her, but she was already mad at me, so I figured why not go all out and stir the pot a little more.
She was never going to forgive me now anyway.
I wasn’t about to leave this city. My city. I loved living in Portland.
All the grey, dreary days, the endless misty rain from October through June, finally falling away into long, blissful days of warm, lush summers. Our summers are short, but something about putting up with all the darkness seems to make it that much brighter once it finally does arrive. The landscape burst with flowers of every type, starting with the cherry blossoms in the spring and followed by the sweet scent of roses trailing down every street all summer long.
It’s a stunning city.
Sure, right now, it’s smack dab in the middle of the dreary season, but spring would finally arrive eventually. I wasn’t about to miss it.
