Surprise Daddy

by Nicole Snow

  All the things that make up heaven after a life changing winter.

  Of course, my patience is wearing thin. I've never had it in heaping quantities to begin with. I'm not waiting for our flight on Monday, or for the swanky hotel I've reserved on the ocean, to consummate this marriage.

  Tonight, I'm carrying my wife, my woman, my love straight to the sky.

  I'm taking her just like the moon in that story, basking in her light, and wrapping every steel inch of me in pink perfection.

  15

  Happily Ever One (Sadie)

  My husband strips me naked before his hands are even on my dress. It's his eyes.

  Never has he looked so hungry.

  Never have I felt so bare.

  Never, ever have I wanted him in me so bad while feeling like a total virgin. Not even our first time together, when he actually claimed my V-card.

  This is better. This is more.

  Holy hell. Marshal cups my face, bringing his lips to mine for what seems like the hundredth time today. It's incredible how his kiss grows sweeter.

  It's slower, harder, dirtier. It lights new fires under my skin, makes me fall into him.

  Maybe it's because we finally have all the time in the world for each other. I'm ready to relish every second.

  I kiss him back harder, urging him on. It doesn't take much.

  Marshal's hands grip mine, rough and thick and delicious as always. They travel my body like an explorer marking territory, taking what's his, and always seeking more. His shoulders go on forever. His huge inked chest rumbles against mine when he speaks, raising my blood a few more degrees.

  “You ready for your husband's cock?” he growls, a raw spark in his eye that says, you'd better be, beautiful.

  “Hell yeah.” I throw my hips into his, tracing his bulge, even through our clothes.

  It's almost a shame to lose his suit and tie. I love his rough everyday charm, the jeans and flannel, but the change of pace is even hotter. He's a class act, more like a distinguished prince than a former soldier and bootstrapping mechanic, dressed to dazzle.

  Oh, but I know how wrong I am for missing the suit once our clothes fall in hurried fistfuls. If it wasn't obvious with just one look, his stubble would tell me. It races against my skin, prickly as ever, fanning my lust.

  There's nothing delicate in his full naked glory. He's my beast, furious and filthy mouthed, inked and hard and always in control.

  A rough push is all it takes to put me on the edge of the bed. He growls into my skin, lips marauding downward, fingers perched between my legs, teasing my pussy. The tingle that's been there since this evening becomes an itch, and then a roar.

  “Fuck my fingers, Red. Fuck them till I decide you're done.” He pushes two stiff fingers into me. Holding his thumb just away from my clit, I buck into him, madness descending a little more every second I'm missing his cock.

  His tongue helps distract me for a few minutes. His face dives between my legs. Licks come tense, quick, unrelenting. They sweep up as my legs buckle, and the crushing fire inside me explodes.

  “Marshal, yes!”

  Yes.

  Oh, hell, I'm coming. Just like he wants me to: hot, forced, and totally his.

  Marshal's tongue takes my pussy apart with every lick. He turns me inside out, teases my inner heat, makes every whimper spilling out meld into one long beg.

  Please, please fuck me.

  It seems like I'm coming forever before my body lets my senses work again.

  We've changed positions. He's put me on all fours, pushed my ass up prone, gripping each cheek in his rebel hands.

  “You get how much I love you, darling?” he growls, pushing the swollen head of his cock past my aching lips. I whimper, bury my face in the sheet. “No? How about now?”

  Damn, another inch. His cock piercing hits the spot on my inner wall that makes me clench. So close, so hot, so full, but not the fullness I need.

  “Why the silence, Red? What the fuck's got your tongue?” His hand rubs my ass, soft and kneading. Then his voice drops an octave. My breath stops. “Answer me.”

  Such a simple command. Accented by the brisk, fiery slap across my ass, which makes me jerk up, breathing again. “Answer,” he says.

  “All of you, Marshal. I want it, please. Fuck me.” I barely recognize my own strained voice. I want this so bad it hurts, a thousand times worse than any delicious spanking.

  Will I come on the first stroke of my husband's dick? Is that the magic of our wedding night? I'm afraid I'm about to find out.

  “Just like that? Fuck my sweet, adorable, ass-like-perfection wife? Is it really that easy?” Marshal's fingers lace through my hair, tugging a fistful.

  Oh, God. I'm nodding hard.

  Then it happens. He pushes in to the hilt and I think my brain leaves this planet.

  It's dark out tonight, but I see everything from that silly poem. The maiden's kiss, the light, the sun, the moon, the stars. I see our loving reflection lit up every day in the future, in our children's eyes, and in Mia's.

  I see myself hunkered over him while he rocks our new born baby, so gently I'm crying. I see four kids and a French bulldog. A little boy and two twin girls, plus Mia. All ours. Equal parts miracle and beautiful. I even see my dying breath, him at my side, eyes locked on me so intense they pierce the veil and say, I will fucking find you again.

  Not even the end could stop this man. His love bends the very laws of the universe.

  He's mine, I'm his, and that's just the end of it.

  Simple. Just like the rough heat splitting me in two.

  Release is an explosion. One hard whimpering, sheet clawing, cock pinching O.

  Then there are many. And I can't tell where they begin or end.

  He's striking nerves I didn't know existed, thrusting through my climax. His distant breath gets closer, heavier, more feral every time. My ass slams into him, rippling like never before.

  It's vicious, hot, and beautiful. Fitting. It's how loving him has always been: hard, glorious, and a little scary.

  But it always works out, doesn't it?

  Something sure does while he's power slamming into me, grunting a little louder every time, finding his release. His cock plunges deep, holds, and swells, setting me off all over again.

  I reach behind me, gripping his hands. I pinch his fingers so hard I think I do damage.

  I don't know. I don't care. The boundaries between our bodies are completely gone, no more divide between his pleasure and mine.

  There's just our heat, coming in waves. Burning like a howling napalm fire.

  His seed erupts, hurling into me in thick lava ropes, and I'm left pushing my face into the mattress, stifling my screams.

  He doesn't pull out for a long time. Marshal roots himself in me, kissing my neck, bringing me back from – hell, what was that? I can't find the words to explain it.

  Just know I can't wait for it to happen again.

  Eventually, he rolls me over, and pushes into me again, never going soft. He cradles my cheek. I look him in the eye while we're still, his fingers sliding through my hair, eyes driving spikes through my soul.

  It should be unpleasant, a love this intense. But Marshal Howard doesn't do weakness.

  “We're doing this a thousand more times, Red,” he growls. It ends in a kiss and his forehead pressed to mine.

  “Huh? Tonight?!” I look up, more than a little worried. I'm wondering if he's crazy enough to try.

  There's the grin I've fallen in love with, shining on his face like an early morning sun. “We'll put a dent in it by dawn, sure. But that isn't what I mean.”

  “No?” I study his starry blue eyes. Apparently, our sex is so good it's either made me miss words, or unable to understand them.

  Then his hand slides into mine and he kisses me again. “I'm talking about us, darling Red. You and me. Every day. It'll be a thousand fucking lifetimes before I even dream of asking for a breather. And that'll only be because I wa
nt a minute to step back, take you, and realize – fuck – you're still mine.”

  I smile like a crazy woman into our next kiss. That's how it hits me.

  When you've found the man who takes your light, who spins it into something beautiful, a thousand lifetimes isn't nearly enough. The heat death of the universe will happen before our love goes cold.

  We're destined to last until forever loses its meaning and just is.

  There's no beginning or end when there's just us. There can't be.

  Because Marshal Howard is fate, and now he's part of who I am, who I was, and who I'll always be.

  Hope you enjoyed Marshal and Sadie's story! Read on for another hot and heartwarming romance included with this edition, Marry Me Again.

  Marry Me Again

  A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

  Content copyright © Nicole Snow. All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States of America.

  First published in November, 2016.

  Disclaimer: The following ebook is a work of fiction. Any resemblance characters in this story may have to real people is only coincidental.

  Please respect this author's hard work! No section of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission. Exception for brief quotations used in reviews or promotions. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thanks!

  Love bad boy romance? Sign up for Nicole Snow's newsletter here! Enjoy subscriber-only previews, ARCs, and more!

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  Description

  HE CAN BUY ANYTHING EXCEPT A SECOND CHANCE WITH ME...

  KARA

  Once, when I was young and stupid, I had that boy. The charmer, the Adonis, the one who torched every woman's panties in our small town. He was my brother's best friend, practically part of the family. When he proposed, he promised me forever.

  Then the bastard disappeared without a word.

  It's taken five years to get over Ryan. I drowned myself crying a thousand times over. I moved on.

  I'm finally remembering what it's like to smile when guess who shows up. Everything about him is different. For one, he's become a freakin' billionaire. He walks like he's Mr. Tall, Dark, and Alpha incarnate. I know there's no justice in the world because his body matches his huge ego.

  Worse, he wants me to play Cinderella again. I can't. I won't.

  I don't believe in second chances. I'll never forget what he did.

  And if he's stupid enough to try kissing me with those unforgettable lips, he's going to feel my teeth.

  RYAN

  I did a terrible thing. No, I'm not talking about the filthy secret that wrecked everything.

  Leaving Kara killed me. I didn't have a choice. No amount of money, success, or bedding any woman I want whenever I flash my patented smirk makes up for losing her.

  She was the one. Hell, she still is.

  Time to remind her why. Whatever it takes to put my ring on her hand for good.

  I'm ready for the curses, the screams, the burn of her palm against my cheek. I'll taste her lips again, even if she bites.

  Just one catch – she can't find out what happened the night I left. There are no second chances if my past ruins us.

  1

  Love at First Tease (Kara)

  The first time I see him – drinking him in with my puppy love eyes – he makes me bleed.

  “Ow!” Pulling my finger up from the staples I'd been pulling in daddy's office, I survey the damage.

  Two neat little pinpricks. A worthwhile flesh wound for the long, secret peek I snuck through the tiny window leading out to the garage, where the hottest boy alive is working on a Mustang from the seventies, raised with its metal underbelly sticking out.

  It's a one way spy job.

  He hasn't spotted me in here. Even if he had, why would he take a second glance?

  There's barely time to suck my finger before daddy bursts in, his booming voice ringing out behind me. “Peanut, I need you to finish up in here, get home for dinner, and get cracking on your homework. I'll pay you for the extra half hour you're missing on the clock, so don't worry.”

  Swiveling around in his office chair, I smile with a quirk on my lips, quickly folding my arms to hide my injured finger. “I finished everything for school this morning before I came in. What's happening out there that makes you want to kick me out early?”

  Daddy opens his mouth, but before he gets in a word, the loudest F-bomb I've ever heard shakes the whole building.

  For a second, he's frozen, turning red and glaring through his open door. It's Mickey, one of his thirty-something full timers. He's sitting on a crate, massaging his knee, grinning up at his co-worker Jack, who just belted him in the arm.

  “What the hell's the matter with you?” We hear him blubber.

  “Man, I'm just doing you a favor. Worrying about the pain in your arm's gonna take your mind off that bum knee.”

  With a heavy grunt of disapproval, daddy kicks his door shut behind him. We both share a look.

  I put my hands out, lifting my eyebrows. “Don't worry about it. Really. I've heard worse in the halls at school and –“

  “Kara, no. I promised your ma I'd bring you here to work, not learn to cuss like a sailor. You're only fourteen, for Christ's sake. Hey, what happened to your hand?”

  I can't hide anything from him. Daddy grabs my wounded hand, holds it in between his thick calloused palms, and takes a good long look.

  “Poked myself pulling staples. Nothing serious.”

  “How did that happen?” His eyes search mine, as if they can't believe I'm less than perfect.

  I shrug, refusing to tell him anything. Because that would involve confessing my crush on his newest, hottest employee. The boy who rarely smiles, and always makes up for it with a body that looks like it's been put on Earth to make every girl in a hundred miles break out their fans.

  Daddy pushes past me, reaching into the cabinet overhead. He holds out a small Band-Aid and ruffles my hair a second later. “Put that on before you head out. I ought to make you cover your ears, too, but now I'm more worried about catching hell at home because I let you get hurt.”

  “Please. It was my fault. I wasn't paying attention.” I roll my eyes. “Daddy, you worry too much. I'm not a –“

  “You're my little girl, peanut, and that's the way it's gonna stay. Now go. Save me a spot at the table for dinner.”

  Defeated, I smile. There's no arguing with him, even if he can be as overprotective as a mother hen sometimes. “You know I will.”

  Turning, I make my way out the office, fixing the little bandage to my hand. I take a second outside before I head for the back exit, listening to the banter between Jack and Mickey. They're still ribbing each other with a dozen expletives packed into half as many sentences.

  Then I look past them, and see him. He's reaching up underneath the Mustang, a wrench in his hand, his jaw clenched tight as he goes to work, flexing muscles no boy under twenty should have.

  What the hell did this town do to deserve Ryan Caspian?

  Easily Split Harbor High's hottest eligible bachelor. The boy every girl in every class swoons over.

  The walking question mark who showed up in town without a history. The one who aces every test and put the Greenthorne gang in their place his first day at school.

  That's right. Everybody still talks about how Devon Greenthorne, the senior ringleader with the mohawk, got in Ryan's face and backed him into a corner with his goons. It lasted all of sixty seconds before Devon hit the ground, nursing a broken nose.

  The bullies brought their heavy, sloppy strength to fight a lion. I only have to stop and stare to see Ryan's refined strength.

  His oil spattered shirt clings tight while he's standing underneath the Mustang, his arms high over his head, biceps bulging like he's been lifting since he hit puberty. Only, no one at school has ever seen him in the weight room.

  The v
ery edge of his shirt rides up, exposing his abs. Until Ryan, I never knew what washboard meant.

  Now, I understand. I see it in every rolling crease of his six pack, every time his skin ripples while he grunts, turning a bolt on the underside of the car, muscles bristling from head to toe. He's working, lost in his own world, completely oblivious to the older, rowdier men cursing and laughing like chimpanzees around him.

  God. Eyeballing him too long starts to burn, no different than gazing at the sun. I have to get home before he sees me.

  I'm about to move, when Ryan's wrench slips, and he brings it down against his thigh with a resounding slap. His face tilts toward me as he steadies himself. Then our eyes lock, and my heart forgets how to beat.

  Eek. Holding my squeak in, I try to hide my blush and head for the exit, just as his voice rings out – deeper than it should be for a young man.

  “Hold up, there's crap all over the –“

  Too late. I'm practically running when I hit the oil slick. The world turns into black ice beneath my sneakers. I slide at least five feet before I hit the wall, spin around, and crash elbows first on the hard concrete.

  As luck would have it, elbows first into the edge of the same grimy slick that took me down. The shame hits before I realize I'm already screaming.

  The men around me aren't screwing around anymore. My voice echoes through Bart's Auto, alone and scared. Everything goes quiet in the garage except for Zeppelin banging away on the radio. Somebody grabs me under my arms, pulls me up, and tips my beet red face to theirs.

  It's Ryan. I think I'm about to die on the spot.

  Too many chemicals explode simultaneously in my brain to drink him in, up close and personal. I can't appreciate his eyes, as royal blue as Lake Superior's shores, or the little wave in his thick, dark hair. Not even the perfect dusting of stubble across his jawline – the kind that would surely make any girl lucky enough to kiss him burn for more.