Bad Boy Valentine: The Hard and Dirty Holidays

by Aaron, Celia

  A tear rolled down her cheek and I wiped it away.

  “Is it too much?”

  She cleared her throat, the tears thick in the sounds. “No.” She kissed me, all shyness gone. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she licked my lips and moved her hands to the back of my neck.

  She was sweet from her sandwich and cool from the milk. But her body was pure heat. I ran my hands to her waist and edged my fingers under her top. My palms were itching for her skin. Chill bumps erupted along her sides as I moved my hands up to her ribs, pushing the fabric from her as I went.

  She kissed down my jaw and licked along the swirl of ink at the side of my neck. I groaned and pulled her to me, her hot cunt straddling my leg. My cock was already back in fighting form, pushing at my shorts and trying to get to the sweet paradise between her thighs.

  I pushed her top the rest of the way up and cupped her breasts, running my thumb over the erect tips. She slid her hands down my chest, her fingertips pressing against me and feeling every ridge and ripple as she went. When her fingers reached under the waistband of my shorts at the same time she nipped at my neck, I had to take her hands and pull them away.

  “Can you do this again so soon? Because if we keep going like this, I can’t stop. I won’t.” I couldn’t be anything but honest with her. I already wavered on the edge of throwing her onto the kitchen floor and fucking her black and blue.

  “I want to.” She strained against my hold, her fingers seeking my cock.

  Fuck. I released her and she reached into my shorts and palmed me. When she made contact, I hissed.

  “So that’s what it feels like.” She smiled.

  I let my head loll back as her fingers explored me. Then her mouth was on my nipple, teasing the barbell and running her teeth along the raised skin. My hips jerked as she squeezed my length in her small palm. I refused to come in her hand, but if she didn’t stop, I would.

  “Come on.” I pulled her to me and lifted her under her thighs.

  I was almost to my bedroom when a loud bang shattered the relative stillness of my apartment.

  “Michael? It’s Layla. Want to be my slutty valentine again this year?” Her words were slurred.

  Jess tensed in my arms and my heart sank. No matter how much I’d tried to change for her, my past was still there. She pushed against my hands so she could stand up.

  I reluctantly let her go.

  “It’s okay. I’ll just . . . I’ll just go back to my place.” She studied her feet, her dark hair hiding her eyes.

  I put my hands on her shoulders. “That’s my past. You’re my future. I’m sorry. Please, stay.”

  “Michael!” Layla called and banged on the door some more. I didn’t remember her, not even a little.

  “I just can’t.” She sidestepped me and walked away. I wanted to grab her, to tie her to my bed, to do anything but let her walk away. I didn’t. I wanted her to choose me as freely as I’d chosen her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jess

  He followed me and opened the door. The need to escape blotted out any other thought. Jealousy and embarrassment swirled like a cyclone inside me. I hurried past a clearly trashed Layla and into my apartment. I clicked the lock over and whirled to see what he did with the willowy blonde at his door.

  “Hey, baby. Didn’t know you had company. Want some more?” She slid the spaghetti strap of her top off her shoulder, showing her breast to Michael.

  Rage boiled up inside me and I fisted my hands at my sides.

  “Stay here.” He shut the door in her face.

  “Are we playing dominant and submissive games?” she stage-whispered through the door. “I wait out here for you all obedient? I can do that.” She laughed and then dropped to her knees and bowed her head.

  A raging inferno couldn’t have pulled me away from that door. I watched and waited. What was he doing? The waiting gave me time to think, at least. Had I been too hasty in leaving? I wanted him. The way he’d explained changing for me, even though we were almost total strangers. It enthralled me instead of frightened me. He seemed so devoted, but then the model had shown up and rattled me out of the daydream. Had he really changed if a model still showed up at his door and declared herself his “valentine”?

  I stared as she played on her phone and leaned against his door.

  “Getting a bit chilly out here, love.” She rapped her knuckles on the wood.

  The elevator dinged. I peered to the right and saw a man approaching.

  “Ms. Layla?”

  “Yeah?” She got to her feet, though she swayed. “What do you want?”

  “I’m Frank, your driver. I was called to come pick you up.”

  “What?” She banged on Michael’s door. “You fucking prick!”

  “Please, miss. Allow me to escort you to the car.” Frank held his arm out to her as she beat and clawed at Michael’s door to no avail. After a few more moments filled with vile curses and a final kick at the unmoving door, she stepped back and smoothed a hand down her long yellow locks.

  “Fine. You were a lousy fuck anyway.”

  She’s drunk and a liar.

  She screamed and gave the door the finger before taking Frank’s arm and moving toward the elevator.

  I thought I heard Michael’s low laughter, but couldn’t be sure. Once the elevator dinged and Layla was gone, Michael opened his door and stepped out in the hall.

  “I know you’re there, Jess.” He stared at the peephole, just like before.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “As you can see, I have no interest in anyone else.” His earnest green eyes struck right at my soul. “But, I want you to make your own decisions. So, I’m going to leave my door unlocked and go get in my bed. I would love for you to join me. And, not to be hokey here, but I would also love it if you would be my valentine.” He tapped the skin over his heart where an intricate lattice heart was inked in sturdy black. “Anyway. I’ve laid out all my cards. I want you. I …” He took a deep breath. “I know it sounds impossible, but I love you. From the first moment I saw you, I’ve loved you.”

  My heart seemed to stop completely before taking off at a breakneck pace. Did the remarkable man in the hallway just say he loved me?

  “So, I hope to see you inside.” He gave me a panty-melting smile and backed into his apartment.

  When he was out of sight, I turned and leaned against my door. I was having trouble catching my breath. He said he loved me. I covered my mouth with my hand and squealed into it while jumping up and down like an idiot. Then I actually pinched myself. It hurt. This was real.

  I darted to my bathroom and checked myself in the mirror, but I couldn’t do much because a smile seemed permanently affixed to my face. Get it together, Jess.

  Back into the living room and out to the hallway. I put a hand to my chest, as if that could calm my heartbeat, and then swung his door open.

  The room was dark. I crept past his cozy décor – nothing liked I’d imagined it before – and only paused to admire a couple of the dozens of photographs he had along his walls. All of them were done by him, and I’d seen versions of them at the gallery a couple of blocks away.

  His bedroom door was open. I straightened my back and walked through. There were no mirrors on the ceiling and his bed had a white duvet instead of a black one.

  What I saw on the bed made my jaw drop. Michael looking at me with lust in his eyes. His hands were laced behind his head and the white duvet covered just to his hips. He was sex on a platter. His piercings glinted in the light of his lamp and his sculpted body had my mouth watering. His hair was still jutting this way and that from when I’d run my hands through it earlier.

  “Come here.” His voice was low and full of command.

  I couldn’t have disobeyed if I’d tried. I walked to him as he sat up and swung his legs off the bed.

  “On your knees.”

  I dropped in front of him and looked up into his eyes.

  “Have you made up your mind
?” He stroked a hand through my hair.

  “Yes. I had it made up the moment I saw you. I want you.”

  He smiled, devilish and sincere all rolled into one.

  I darted my eyes to the duvet covering his cock.

  “Curious, Jess?”

  Yes, very. After I’d touched it earlier, I wanted it in my mouth. But then Layla had shown up and ruined it.

  “Yes. I want to taste it.”

  A low growl came from his throat and he flexed his fists. “That is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my fucking life.”

  I grabbed the duvet and pulled it away. He was so hard, his cock darkened and the tip wet. I licked my lips and grabbed it at the base, the same way he’d done in the hallway.

  His head fell back. “Fucking wildcat.”

  I smiled and licked the tip. He jerked in my hand but then stilled again. It was salty on my tongue and I licked again. He looked back down to me and put his hands in my hair.

  “Take it.”

  I didn’t need any more encouragement. I opened my mouth wide and slid it in. It was thick on my tongue and I moved too quickly, trying to get as much of it in as possible. I gagged and slid it out.

  “Sorry.” I blushed.

  “Don’t be sorry. Your mouth feels fantastic.”

  Emboldened by his words, I slid the tip past my lips again and lapped at it with my tongue. His grip tightened in my hair as I licked at him. Moving forward, I took him deeper, the tip just hinting at the back of my throat, but not enough to make me gag again.

  “That is—” His words cut off into a groan as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked him while moving back and forth.

  I gripped his thighs and kept sucking him in and out, using my tongue to lick him as I went. His hips began to pulse against me in time with my rhythm. My pussy was drenched. This was by far the most erotic thing I’d ever undertaken.

  “Look at me, Jess.”

  I looked up and caught his eye as I bobbed on his cock. His jaw was tight, a vein pulsing in his neck.

  When I dug my nails into his thighs and pushed him even farther inside, he ripped me up from the floor on a groan and threw me onto my stomach on the bed.

  “What—”

  His hands were at my shorts, ripping them down my legs. Then he was between my thighs. His palms were on my hips, pulling me back into him. When his cock hit my wet skin I shuddered.

  “Remember what I said about losing control?” He wrapped my hair around his hand and pulled me against him.

  “Yes.” Electricity thrilled through me as the pinpricks along my scalp increased with his tugs.

  “This is it.” He pushed his head into my opening and I sucked in a breath between my teeth. I was sore, but the feel of his smooth skin went a long way to soothe the ache.

  He stilled and then pushed again, then again until his hips were against my ass and I was completely filled with him. I curled my toes when he pulled out and slammed back into me, a loud slap from where our bodies converged.

  Then he moved fast, in and out to a pounding beat that I felt in my clit. My breasts bounced and I had to arch my back as he pulled harder on my hair.

  “So fucking tight.”

  His fingertips dug into my hip and I found myself pushing back into him, relishing his aggression as it washed over me in pleasurable jolts. He leaned over my back and reached beneath me, wrapping his arm up to my shoulder and forcing me into his harsh strokes.

  “You like that, don’t you Jess? You like being filled with my hard cock. I bet you’ve fantasized about this.” He bit into my shoulder and kissed over the sting. “I know I have.”

  He kept pounding me, his mouth at my ear and his hand at my shoulder. Then he lifted up and splayed his fingers along my upper back.

  “Down. I want this fine ass in the air.”

  I bent my elbows and lay my head on the bed.

  “Look at me.” His voice was coated in sex.

  I craned my neck, the right side of my face pressed into the bed, so I could see him. His body was covered with a fine sheen of sweat and his muscles were in sharp relief with each hard thrust. He brought two fingers to his mouth and licked them before snaking them beneath my body. When he made contact with my clit, I moaned into the bed. His touch made my pussy clench. Bending over me again, he gripped my hair and used his whole body to thrust into me while his fingers circled my tender nub.

  “I want to hear my name when you come, wildcat. Got that?”

  I clawed at the duvet as he rocketed into me over and over.

  He jerked my hair. “Got that?”

  “Yes.” I moaned as his fingers increased their pace. I had never felt this much pleasure, didn’t even know it was possible.

  His grunts grew deeper and his cock somehow got even harder, rubbing my trembling walls just right as his fingers worked me.

  “I’m close.”

  “I’m there. Come with me.” He flicked my clit and we both fell over the edge.

  Sparks flared across my vision as a tidal wave of bliss flooded my senses.

  “Michael!” It was a harsh cry as everything seized and I gave myself over to him, to every bit of pleasure he gave me.

  My pussy contracted and convulsed as the rest of me froze. He was still thrusting in shorter strokes as a deep, masculine sound ripped from his lungs. When stilled, I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes because I’d curled them so hard.

  He rose up and rested a hand on my ass before giving it a light slap. “Fuck, that was hot.”

  “Unff,” I semi-responded. I was still floating somewhere out in the cosmos.

  He reached under me and pulled me up so my back was pressed against his chest.

  He dropped sweet kisses up my shoulder and to my ear. I let my head fall back against his shoulder.

  “I love you, Jess. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  Epilogue

  Valentine’s Day, One Year Later

  “What do you think?” Michael asked as he lifted his shirt.

  I gasped. “Are you kidding?”

  “No.” He smirked. “Ink is pretty permanent, wildcat.”

  “That’s a huge like, step.” I ran my fingers over the fresh ink above the lattice heart on his chest.

  “Moving in was, too.”

  “True. The penthouse suite was a pretty good lure though.” I smiled.

  “Nothing but the best for my lawyer-in-training.”

  I looked around at the sun streaming through the windows, the view for miles, and the comfy décor. He certainly spared no expense, and his art along every wall was a bonus. The nude photos of me in the bedroom still made me blush.

  I stared at the new ink on his chest and traced along the curving lines of my own name. He had it done in an elaborate script that was gorgeous against his skin.

  “You don’t like it?” He raised a pierced eyebrow.

  I grinned. “You know I love it.”

  He dropped his shirt. “Good. Then quit touching it. It stings like a bitch.”

  I laughed and got on my tiptoes to kiss him. He took my breath away like he always did, sweeping his tongue in my mouth and gripping the nape of my neck. But then he pulled away.

  “Speaking of taking steps.” He cleared his throat.

  “What?”

  He fumbled in the pocket of his favorite leather jacket and dropped to his knee in front of me.

  I brought my hands to my mouth, shock rolling over my like thunder. “Is this—”

  “Jessica Louise Shakoor, will you marry me?” He flipped the box open and a dazzling solitaire set in platinum appeared.

  My knees turned to jelly and I sank in front of him.

  His brows knit in concern and he put a hand on my elbow to steady me. “Jess, you okay?”

  “Yes. I just. I can’t. I mean. I don’t even . . .”

  His face fell, the smile gone and sadness in its place. He pulled his hand back and was about to close the lid.

  “No!” I grabbed his wrist.


  “Yeah, I got it.” He dropped his gaze.

  “No, I mean yes!”

  “What?” The smile crept back into his eyes, his mouth.

  “I meant yes. I was just so shocked but yes, a million times yes.”

  He gripped my ass and scooted me toward him before plucking the ring from the box and placing it on my finger. It just fit.

  “I can’t believe this.” I put my hands on his cheeks, the ring stunning but nowhere near as captivating as his smile, his eyes.

  And then his arms were around my waist. He laid me gently back on the floor and stripped off his jacket and then his shirt. My eyes went right to the ink, to the profession of his love for me buried in his skin. I would have licked it if it were healed.

  He pulled my jeans off and tossed them before unbuttoning his fly. He nestled between my legs and, in one swift move, impaled me as I squirmed beneath him.

  “Let’s make this official.” He thrust deep into me and I moaned.

  “I love you, wildcat.” He stared into my eyes, into my soul, and into the future he’d planned for us.

  “I love you, too.”

  If you enjoyed this naughty tale, please leave a review and help other readers.

  Other Books by Celia Aaron

  In the heart of Louisiana, the most powerful people in the South live behind elegant gates, mossy trees, and pleasant masks. Once every ten years, the pretense falls away and a tournament is held to determine who will rule them. The Acquisition is a crucible for the Southern nobility, a love letter written to a time when barbarism was enshrined as law.

  Now, Sinclair Vinemont is in the running to claim the prize. There is only one way to win, and he has the key to do it—Stella Rousseau, his Acquisition. To save her father, Stella has agreed to become Sinclair's slave for one year. Though she is at the mercy of the cold, treacherous Vinemont, Stella will not go willingly into darkness.