Begging for Bad Boys

by Willow Winters

  I press my lips together, feeling a hot flash rushing along my skin while I wait for him to go on.

  “I’m done now,” he says.

  “Oh!” We chuckle and I push a tear away before it falls. “Then… I love you, too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well…” My eyes drift back to the key in my hand. “Does the master bedroom have an en suite?”

  His lips twitch. “Yes.”

  “With a jacuzzi tub?”

  “If you want it to.”

  I jolt with glee. “Oh, that is such a good answer.”

  “Get used to it.”

  “I will.”

  Leo leans in, drawing our lips closer together. Before they touch, he springs forward and picks me up off the floor, rocking my insides as he throws me over his shoulder.

  “Leo!” I shout with laughter and drop the key and chess piece to the floor. “Put me down!”

  He walks us towards the bed and sets me down on it. I bounce on the mattress and lie back as he kisses me again. His hand cups my cheek, caressing me softly as our lips blend together and his beard tickles my chin.

  “Sorry if this was too sudden…” he whispers.

  I shake my head. “It wasn’t. Of course, now my Christmas gifts to you seems really lame by comparison.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He raises his head. “What’d you get me?”

  I kiss him back. “And ruin the surprise?”

  “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

  “Okay.” I sit up on my elbow. “A new pocket knife.”

  “Nice,” he smiles.

  “A beard comb.” I pause as he laughs. “But it’s pretty cool looking. It’s shaped like a hatchet.”

  I mime it against my chin and he nods.

  “That is pretty cool,” he says.

  “Right?”

  “Anything else?”

  “A few other small things…” I bite my lip. “And, I guess… you can do whatever you want tonight.”

  His eyebrow peaks. “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah. In fact, I remember you saying something once about how if you did, then I wouldn’t be able to walk afterward. Sounded promising.”

  “You remember that?”

  “How could I forget?”

  We inch closer into another kiss, each one growing firmer and deeper as our hands roam our bodies.

  Leo entwines his fingers with mine. “That feels like so long ago now.”

  “It’s only been a few months.”

  “I know, but…” our lips graze, “when I’m with you time stands still. Work melts away. No one else matters. I never want that feeling to end.”

  “Neither do I.” I sigh as he rests his hand just above my knee. “Leo…”

  “What?”

  “Something I’ve always wondered…”

  “What?” he asks again, kissing my neck.

  “If that storm hadn’t have come up the mountain,” I say, “would you have let me in?”

  Leo pauses and smiles. “No.”

  “No?” I lean back. “But what about the bears and the mountain lions?”

  He shrugs. “Pearl would have barked to warn me if a wild animal was on the lawn.”

  I blink. “Before or after I was eaten to death?”

  “After, probably…”

  “Wow, okay.” I try to roll away. “On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t tonight—”

  He tugs me back in and crushes my lips, kissing me hard and fast while I melt in his arms. “How about you spread your legs… and don’t move.”

  I grin. “Now we’re talking.”

  “And no talking.”

  I place an invisible key against my lips and turn the lock twice.

  Leo regards me with a twisted grin, reaching one hand around to the back of my neck. “You are so beautiful...”

  He slides the zipper of my dress downward, planting a few kisses on my shoulder as the neckline loosens.

  I shudder with warmth from my head to my toes. I get lost in the feeling, closing my eyes as Leo continues whispering in my ear.

  “Your hair, your face, your smile...” He kisses me as he guides the dress down my breasts. “I can’t get enough of your body.”

  I prop up as he leans back and pulls my dress to my ankles. As he lets it fall to the floor, he stops to look at me on the bed in front of him. His deep, blue eyes wander down my hips and legs, climb up my belly and breasts, until he eases back in to kiss me.

  I spread my legs for him and he slides between my thighs. I feel his erection against my hip while his lips take me over and over again. My mouth waters, wanting to taste him so badly. I take hold of his belt but he stops me.

  Without a word, he guides my arms over my head. He pins them with one strong hand while the other tugs at his belt.

  “Don’t move,” he says, staring into my wide eyes.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, throbbing softly.

  He pulls his belt through the loops. “What I want.”

  I lie still and smile, feeling safe beneath him as his firm hands tie my wrists together with his belt.

  “Getting kinky now...” I chuckle.

  Leo towers over me on his thick arms. “Well... I’m the boss, Hazel. Don’t forget that.”

  He leans in for a kiss but I shake with a fit of giggles. His jaw flexes and he stares at me. “What?” he asks. “Why are you laughing?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just...” I say, biting my cheek. “I’m the boss har har.”

  He squints. “Tonight... I am.”

  I crack up. “Stop. You’re killing me!”

  “Hazel…” He lays a hand over my mouth.

  My breath pushes against his palm. “What?” I ask, my voice muffled.

  Leo pauses in thought. “Stay here.”

  He hops off the bed and wanders into the next room, leaving me in my underwear with my hands tied. I shake away the giggle fit and sit up to listen as he moves through the suite.

  “Leo?” I ask after several silent moments alone.

  He comes back with a white eye mask in his hand, flipping it around his fingers with a smug smile on his face. “This should help,” he says.

  I chuckle. “Are you going to gag me, too?”

  He untucks his flannel shirt and flicks the buttons free one-by-one. “No,” he whispers, dropping it to the floor as he leans over me. “I want to hear it when you scream my name.”

  I smile as he lays the mask over my eyes. My vision goes dark and my ears twitch with every new sound in the room. Leo kicks off his shoes. He unzips his pants. The mattress dips with his weight and my skin quivers as he hooks my knees and pulls me closer. His hands glide up my body, starting at my ankles and traveling up my legs and abdomen. They swipe my armpits but his firm kiss keeps me from laughing.

  I feel him. All of him. Every brush of his hand on me feels twice as good. His groans echo in my ears. His body heat mixes with mine. My core is charged and ready, pleasantly throbbing and practically begging for him. He moves down to align our bodies and wraps my knees around his waist.

  Leo kisses me. “I love you,” he says again.

  Happiness bursts in me. Three little words and I melt completely. Three months together and I can already see the next thirty years of my life. I’ve never been surer of anything else.

  “I love you, too,” I say, feeling tears building against the mask.

  We kiss once more, firm and true, as Leo guides himself inside of me. He doesn’t stop until he’s as deep as his cock can go. I hold my breath, feeling every stiff inch of him taking me over. Love and desire push us closer together as passion drives his thrust.

  Leo puts his hands on me, constantly touching and feeling my body. He fucks harder, pounding me into the mattress as I moan for him. I lie back and enjoy every sensation coursing through me. He grips my hair and bites my skin. I’m his and he knows it. My body, my mind. His name builds on my tongue but my voice is trapped behind my clenched throat. I feel silly in this m
ask and sexy in his arms at the same time. Growing pleasure has me writhing beneath his body. I twist and ache for release, feeling my thighs turn numb and my toes curl.

  “Leo…” I moan, tensions building fast.

  He crushes his lips on mine, absorbing his name as he sucks on my tongue. “Say it again,” he groans.

  I chuckle, feeling my body breaking in two. “Leo!”

  He grinds a little deeper, sending me over the edge. My muscles twist and my ears ring but I hear his deep laugh as I come for him. He pauses to watch, leaving sweet kisses on my neck until my pulse settles and I can breathe again.

  Leo slides the mask off my head and smiles. “My queen…” he whispers, his breath warm against my cheek.

  He reaches over my head and pulls my arms forward, quickly sliding the belt free and drawing me up to straddle his lap. He sits back and embraces me against him, softly kissing my neck as I wrap my arms around him.

  I ease his cock back inside and he groans in my ear. Somehow, I hold myself up on him, grinding my hips even though I can barely feel my legs. He lays his hands on my waist to support me while he nibbles at my breasts.

  I cup his face and kiss him again, enjoying the soft tickle of his beard on my lips. “What else do you want?” I ask playfully.

  His grip tightens on my waist. “You just keep doing exactly what you’re doing right now…”

  I buck my hips faster on his cock. “This?”

  He groans and buries his face between my breasts, clinging to me and breathing hard as I lick his sweat off my lips.

  “Hazel…”

  I tighten my inner muscles around him the way he likes it. This man. My king. There’s so much more I want to do for him but I can’t stop shaking. This is just one night amongst thousands we’ll spend together.

  Leo holds his breath and I feel that warm burst between us. I halt the grind, letting his cock slide out and his seed drips along my thighs. We’ve come so far since that first night in the cabin, yet we have so far to go. I trust him more everyday and I know he feels the same.

  He lies back, taking me with him and we settle our heads against the thick pillows. After several slow, calming breaths, Leo rolls over and wraps his arm around me in a quiet embrace.

  Safe and warm as always, I drift off and the last thing I feel is Leo’s lips pursing against my forehead.

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  Bloodlines

  by Aubrey Irons

  Once upon a time, he was my prince not-so-charming.

  Liam Roarke was my first, and I wanted him to be my last. Six years ago, I let him take it all – my v-card, my heart, and my breath away. He was my secret, my temptation… my all-consuming love.

  But this is no fairytale, and there are no happy ever afters with life in the Dark Saints – the Irish gang my late father ran. And when it all went bad, the boy I thought I loved sent me packing.

  I swore I’d never come back to Boston after that, but that was before I got set up.

  That was before I owed the Italian mafia $1 million.

  So now I’m back, and signing a devil’s deal - a fake marriage with the douchebag son of the new head of the Saints in exchange for my debts being settled.

  Oh, and it turns out, there’s a target on my back that I need protection for - protection in the form of a 24/7 bodyguard with orders to never let me out of his sight….

  Liam, of course.

  The cocky, infuriatingly gorgeous, panty-melting temptation I used to love - and the last man I ever wanted to see again.

  But I won’t fall for him again. I can’t, actually, or we’re both dead.

  So, a debt to the mafia, a target on my back, a fake marriage, and the most wickedly tempting man I’ve ever known shadowing my every move.

  Yeah, what could possibly go wrong?

  Prologue

  Aela

  “Looks like your luck’s run out, Aela.”

  Rain pours in sheets outside, crashing like waves against the big factory windows of the old building. Graffiti tags the crumbling brick walls, glowing neon with each flash of lightning outside.

  The flash also illuminates the silvery metal of the gun in his hand.

  My chest feels tight, like I can’t breathe. My pulse pounds like a drum in my ears as I eye the gleaming metal and the grinning man holding it.

  He shakes his head. “Aela, Aela, Aela. What are we going to do with you?”

  It’s a rhetorical question. I’m not exactly going to answer with a gag in my mouth.

  He lifts the gun, hefting the weight of it in his hand as he steps towards me. Thunder booms outside.

  “You know, your father would be so disappointed in you.”

  The rage comes flashing to the surface just as the lightning crashes, and I scream at him through the gag. I lunge toward him even though I know it’s a futile gesture, the plastic ties binding my wrists to the chair burn hot as they dig into my skin. My eyes squeeze shut as the fight drains from me.

  He chuckles.

  “Headstrong and reckless as ever. You know, that’s what got you into this mess in the first place.”

  It’s not.

  He’s what got me into this mess in the first place.

  He’s the one that set me up.

  He’s the reason I’m here, and why my world is shattering around me.

  He’s why the man I love is lying bleeding back in the church with a hole in him.

  Love.

  Or loved. Or still love. Or maybe it’s “love again.”

  It’s a moot point now anyways, though.

  This is what I get for coming back here. This is what I get for falling into him and his arms all over again — for letting go, for throwing caution and rational thinking to the wind and letting what always came natural to us carry me away again.

  This is what I get for wanting him.

  For surrendering myself to the man who already broke me once. For craving his touch. For being addicted to how sinfully dirty he makes me feel, how perfectly bad it is when I’m with him.

  The way he shatters my world like he shattered my heart all those years ago.

  The tears I’ve been swearing to myself I wouldn’t let this man see — the one holding the gun who stole that away from me — finally trickle from me eyes, trailing hot lines down my cheeks to drip onto the white wedding dress I’m wearing.

  He grins smugly, as if my crying is a win for him.

  “I want you to know this is nothing personal.”

  He lifts the gun.

  The tears are still falling, but I’m screaming in rage at him now. I’m straining against the binds, feeling the blood run hot down my wrists to stain the white dress, and not even caring as I stare fire, rage, and death at the man who’s about to murder me.

  The man who took everything I’ve ever loved.

  The man who’s leveling a gun at the center of my forehead, about to take the last of me as he slowly shakes his head.

  “It’s nothing personal.”

  The hammer draws back. This is the end of the line.

  This is what I get for coming back here.

  “It’s just business, Aela, that’s it. But for what it’s worth?”

  He shrugs.

  “You never should have come back here.”

  I close my eyes.

  I think of the man I love.

  And the gun roars.

  Chapter 1

  Aela

  “So, do we have a deal?”

  The cherry at the end of Mick’s cigarette glows red as he puffs on it, smoke curling around his smug face.

  I look away.

  Even when I was a kid, back when my father ran the neighborhood and Mick was his second in command — back before everything went wrong — I never much liked him.

  But I fucking hate him now.

  “After everything my father did,” I say for the tenth time, feeling the last of the fi
ght drain from my body.

  “It’s because of your father that I’m going out on a limb and doin’ you this favor, you know.”

  Favor.

  Deal.

  The word we’re looking for here is sentencing.

  This is being pulled from the frying pan and shoved into the fire.

  “Pretty sure this is your only option, Aela.” The leather chair creaks under his bulk as Mick Flaherty leans back. He shrugs again, as if this is some sort of casual conversation. “The Italians aren’t anyone you want to hold onto a debt with, but I think you already know that,” he chuckles.

  I slowly shake my head as I turn to look out the dirty window of his office above the warehouse, tucking my long red locks behind one ear absently.

  “Tommy’s a good kid, you know. You guys used to hit it off okay.”

  I have never “hit it off” with Mick’s shit-head of a son. I hit him once, in high school when he tried to stick his hand up my skirt, but that’s possibly one of the friendliest encounters we’ve ever had.

  “This is what family does, Aela.”

  I turn back this time to see him tapping ash off the end of his cigarette into a dirty ceramic ashtray shaped like a basketball with the Celtics logo on it. He glances at me before picking up the pack on his desk and offering it to me.

  I shake my head.

  “Good. You know your dad woulda hated if you picked up the habit.” He pulls on the smoke, the end of it burning bright. “You turned out good, Aela.” He grins. “Well, aside from your gambling and borrowing habits.”

  I bristle.

  “But this is what family does. We scratch each other’s backs. I help you out with your financial problems, you help me out with my own situation.”

  The situation at hand is Mick’s claim to the Boston operations of the Dark Saints — the Irish crime syndicate with deep roots back in Dublin. Here in Southie, Boston, my dad ran things until his death two years ago, and since then, Mick’s held temporary custodianship.

  The problem is, Mick isn’t a Reilly.

  Like me.

  The Reilly name has weight back in Dublin. And the Irish kings — the old-school bosses who run the whole thing from over in Ireland — have decided that the “temporary” placeholder needs to get more permanent, or Mick gets replaced.