Encore: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Lane Hart

  “You can’t be serious about doing that in here,” Kelsey whispers, but I’m already on my knees, reaching under her dress and working with Nix to tug her panties down her legs.

  “You know you want to, Kel, so lift your foot so we can take your panties off,” Nix commands, and she does so quickly, telling us she’s all in.

  Pushing her dress aside, I bury my face between Kelsey’s legs and use the tip of my tongue to lead the way in the dark. I know I’ve hit gold when she moans above me, making my cock as hard as steel.

  …

  Kelsey

  This is not how I imagined the night — hiding in a storage room, caught between two tongues and with so many fingers plunging in and out of me that I’ve lost count.

  Since Nix has pulled my hips way back, I’m nearly bent over, keeping my balance on my high heels with only my fingers tangled in Cam’s hair.

  “Don’t stop, don’t stop!” I chant as I get closer to the peak of the mountain.

  A few more flicks of Cam’s tongue to my clit and I come, clenching around his fingers in my pussy and at least two of Nixon’s in my ass.

  The next thing I know, Cam’s on his feet, lifting one of my thighs as his cock slides home. I’m so lost to the pleasurable sensations that I barely notice when Nix thrusts in from behind me.

  “Oh, fuck yes,” Nix groans before his mouth devours my neck. I grab a handful of Cam’s tux to bring his mouth to mine and drown out my cries.

  “So good,” he pants against my lips as the two men ravage me. “How did we…live without you?” he asks. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I tell him before my lips are tugged around to Nixon’s.

  “Love you, sweetheart,” Nix says when he lets go.

  “Love you,” I repeat, meaning it just as much for him as I do for Cam.

  A year ago, my insecurities would have argued that these two didn’t mean the words that are being said in the heat of passion, but I’ve come a long way in the last twelve months. I trust Nix and Cam with my heart completely and know that they mean it when they say I’m enough for them. They’ve proven that, despite how amazing it is, what we have is more than a physical relationship. It’s being there for each other through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer.

  Like I explained to my parents, who have finally come around and accepted our relationship, the three of us may never be able to legally marry, but that doesn’t mean that we’re not as serious about our commitment as monogamous ones, or that we love each other any less.

  In fact, I would argue that there’s twice as much here in my life than anywhere else in the world.

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  New York Times bestselling author Lane Hart was born and raised in North Carolina. She continues to live in the south with her husband, two daughters, and several pets named after Star Wars characters.

  When Lane's not writing or reading sexy novels, she can be found in the summer on the beaches of the east coast, and in the fall watching football, cheering on the Carolina Panthers.

  Join Lane’s Facebook group to read books before they’re released, help choose covers, character names, and titles of books! https://www.facebook.com/groups/bookboyfriendswanted/

  Connect with Lane:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/WritingfromHart

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  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlanehart/

  Website: http://www.lanehartbooks.com

  Email: lane.hart@hotmail.com

  Keeping reading for a sneak peek of Lane’s new MC series!

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.

  © 2018 Editor's Choice Publishing

  All Rights Reserved.

  Only Amazon has permission from the publisher to sell and distribute this title.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editor’s Choice Publishing

  P.O. Box 10024

  Greensboro, NC 27404

  Edited by Angela Snyder

  Cover by Marianne Nowicki of PremadeEbookCoverShop.com

  Photographer: Dan Ostergren

  Cover model: Seth Maras

  WARNING: THIS BOOK IS NOT SUITABLE FOR ANYONE UNDER 18. PLEASE NOTE THAT IT CONTAINS EMOTIONAL SCENES THAT MAY BE A TRIGGER FOR INDIVIDUALS WHO HAVE BEEN IN SIMILAR SITUATIONS.

  Prologue

  Chase Fury

  Ten years ago…

  “I fucking love seeing my name on your skin,” I tell Sasha. Bringing her wrist up to my lips, I place a kiss just below the small, black cursive letters. While her new tattoo is only a few inches wide, it may as well be the size of a fucking Mack truck for how damn hard my cock is right now, knowing she’s mine.

  “Good, because it’s sort of permanent,” Sasha replies with a grin. Her big, blue eyes sparkling up at me from underneath the streetlamps are full of adoration and love that I don’t deserve. And God, she’s so fucking beautiful it hurts. I was a goner from the second I saw her long, sexy legs and her incredible ass hanging out of her cutoff shorts while she worked under the hood of a 1967 Mustang.

  “Permanent is exactly why I like it,” I tell her as I wrap my arms around her lean waist to drag her body against mine. She’s the tallest woman I know, Cindy Crawford model height, but I still have at least seven inches on her.

  Sasha pushes open the leather cut that I’m wearing with no shirt underneath to run her fingernail carefully around my fresh ink — her name that’s written in thick, black cursive letters on the left side of my chest.

  “My parents are gonna be so pissed when they find out,” she says. Her smile grows even wider, which is no surprise. I quickly learned that my girl gets off on excitement and danger, anything that her parents would threaten to whoop her ass over even though she just turned eighteen.

  “So, what if they are?” I ask. “They’re always pissed at you lately, ever since you started seeing me.”

  “Very true, it’s just…”

  When she lowers her eyes and pauses, I grab her chin between my thumb and finger to make her look at me. “Just what?”

  “What if it’s bad luck?” she asks as her front teeth nervously work over her bottom lip.

  “What’s bad luck?”

  “Doesn’t everyone say it’s the kiss of death for all relationships if you get your lover’s name tattooed on you? I mean, what if my parents are right and we are moving too fast, Chase?”

  “Shh, calm down baby,” I tell her as I grasp her gorgeous, flawless face between both of my palms. “Fast is the only fucking way that I know how to move. And it’s not bad luck or anything else,” I assure her. “That’s just a bunch of superstitious bullshit. Because you and me? We’re fucking forever, sweetheart. I’m so damn certain of that, I would make you my old lady right now, if I could. I have zero fucking doubts that you’re the only woman I’ll ever want.”

  “Seriously?” she asks as her eyes start to glisten under the glow of the lights in the parking lot. “You would marry me and give up all the clubhouse sluts?”

  “Hell yes,” I say without any hesitation. Before Sasha and I got together, I slept with a handful of the girls that hang around the Savage Asylum, the bar that also houses the Savage Kings MC’s clubhouse. Those women will fuck anything in leather, even prospects like me, still trying to patch in. I haven’t touched a single one of them since Sasha and I started seeing each other six months ago. There isn’t a girl in that clubhouse that can turn my head. I’m so certain o
f what we have that I tell Sasha, “Let’s do it. Let’s get married tonight. We could fly to Vegas...”

  “My parents would never –” she starts to say, but my lips crashing down on hers puts a stop to her words.

  When I pull back, I look her in the eyes to let her know I’m dead serious. “Fuck what your parents think. Marry me, and then we’ll get our own place and they won’t be able to say shit about what we do.”

  Sasha studies my face for several long seconds, judging my sincerity while I hold my breath. Finally, she says, “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I repeat with a grin of relief.

  “Yes. Oh, my god, yes! Why are we still standing here?” she asks excitedly before she slips out of my arms. Sasha strides over to my bike in her sexy strappy heels and white dress. It’s way too short for riding on the back of a Harley, which is exactly why I fucking love it. She throws one of her mile-long legs over the seat and then leans forward to grip the handlebars, pushing her amazing ass out and causing her full, perfect tits to nearly spill out of the top of her dress.

  “Hop on the back. I’ll drive us to the airport,” Sasha jokes.

  “Goddamn, you are so fucking sexy sitting on my Fat Boy,” I tell her. Unable to resist getting a photo of her looking like the pin-up girl from every man’s wet dream, I pull out my cell phone from my pocket and snap a picture.

  After I put my phone away, I go over and climb on behind her. Smoothing my hands up both of her sides, I whisper to her, “This is where you fucking belong. Your fine ass was made to sit on my bike.” I bury my nose in her long, blonde hair that’s lightly blowing in the coastal winds, unable to get enough of her sweet apple scent before my lips go to her neck right below her ear. It’s the one spot on her body that I know from months of experience will make her go limp and instantly wet. Sure enough, Sasha shivers and then leans back against my chest, putty in my hands. Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her. My cock is so hard that riding will be damn near impossible.

  “I want you so much, right here, right now. I can’t wait a second longer,” I whisper in her ear, fucking desperate for her. “If I lift your dress and lower you down onto my cock, you could ride it just like this, and no one would be able to see me buried deep inside of you.”

  “Chase,” Sasha moans my name, making my dick swell even more against the fly of my jeans. “Someone could see us,” she says.

  “Let them watch. I don’t give a fuck, because this is all mine,” I tell Sasha as I ease my hand underneath the front hem of her dress and cup her pussy through her lacy thong.

  I know my girl better than anyone, and the thought of someone catching us is turning her on even more. She’s been a good girl for the last seventeen years, so she still likes to pretend she’s good when, deep down, she’s really fucking naughty.

  And despite what her parents think, I wasn’t a bad influence on her. Hell, I knew she was a virgin, and I wouldn’t do more than kiss her the first few times we went out. Sasha was the one who unzipped my pants in the front seat of her Mustang in the school parking lot and started riding my cock, giving her virginity to me before I fucking knew what hit me.

  “Chase, please,” Sasha begs when she squirms against my hand that hasn’t moved the way she wants yet. As she rocks her hips, her ass bumps right against the bulge in the front of my jeans that’s pressing into her bottom and making me fucking crazy.

  “You’re gonna come on my fingers, and then I’m gonna fuck you right here,” I warn her as I slip my fingers underneath the seam of her panties and penetrate her with just the tip of one.

  “Ohhh God,” she moans as she throws her head back on my shoulder, then covers my hand with her own to force me to go deeper inside of her.

  My lips come down on her neck again as my fingers start pumping in and out of her already dripping wet pussy. Her walls clamp down on them, and then her entire body shudders as her orgasm slams into her that damn fast for me.

  I don’t even give her a chance to recover before I remove my hand from her panties and start undoing my jeans as quick as my shaking hands can go, unable to wait another second to be inside of her. And because she’s been on birth control for months, there’s no rubber needed.

  “Hold those handlebars for me, sweetheart,” I tell Sasha, who is still panting when she follows my order. Grasping one of her hips to hold it steady, I fist my cock with the other to line up and slam inside of her pussy so hard she cries out.

  “Oh, God, Chase!” she moans. Looking at me over her shoulder, Sasha says, “You feel so good.”

  “Fuck, yes, baby. Ride me just like that,” I tell her. She’s hot, tight, and wet. So goddamn perfect that I know I won’t last long.

  My hands grip both of her hips through her dress, tight enough to leave bruises as I slam her down on my cock over and over again.

  Reaching up, I gather her hair in a ponytail and give it a harsh tug to turn her face to the side so I can kiss her. “I love you…so fucking much,” I tell her against her lips.

  “I love you too…ohhh!” she shouts as she comes again, forcing me to follow.

  As we both catch our breath and come back down from the clouds together, I kiss her neck and down to her shoulder.

  Having Sasha in my arms tonight is so goddamn perfect. Knowing she’s agreed to be mine forever makes me fucking euphoric, except…for whatever reason, that happiness is accompanied by something else. My guts are knotting up with fear or…or panic. I’ve never loved anyone this much before, and it’s fucking terrifying worrying about screwing everything up with her.

  Are we rushing things? I know I’m ready to marry Sasha, but we’re both still young. What if I’m pushing her into something that she’ll later regret? We both still have a year of high school left, and then she wants to go to college and study journalism. I’d never try to hold her back on purpose; but what if, by marrying her, she gives up on her dreams to be with me instead?

  “Are you sure you want to be my old lady?” I ask her into the silence. “You know I won’t ever walk away from the MC, and you want to go to college…”

  “I want you more,” she says as she reaches behind her to run her fingers through my hair. “And who said I couldn’t have you and a degree?”

  Still unconvinced, I tell her, “It may not always be easy for us. I’ll probably piss you off. There's a reason everyone thinks I'm an asshole.”

  “We’ll have good times and bad,” she agrees. “But I love every part of you, even the MC and asshole pieces. They’re what make you who you are, Chase.”

  This.

  This is why I fucking love this woman so goddamn much. I don’t know why the hell I’m even second-guessing her. She’s all in right there with me. And unlike some old ladies, she would never ask me to walk away from the club. She knows how important wearing the Savage Kings patch one day soon is to me.

  Bringing her face to mine, I kiss the shit out of her until we both have to pull away for oxygen.

  “Okay,” I say, pushing aside all of those ridiculous doubts or worries, whatever the hell they are. Nothing will change how I feel about Sasha. Ever.

  “To the airport?” Sasha asks me when I climb off the back of my bike.

  Reaching for her helmet from the handlebar, I kiss the top of her golden head before I put it on her. “Fuck yes,” I agree while fastening her chin strap.

  Once her helmet is good and secure, I grab mine and get it in place while Sasha scoots backward to her seat, and I take my place in the front.

  “You ready, sweetheart?” I ask when I crank the engine.

  “Always,” Sasha says. Her words and her arms tightening around my waist so close that the front of her body is flush against my back lets me know she’s ready to ride with me, not just today but every fucking day for the rest of our lives. She trusts me to take care of her and keep her safe.

  I may have been a cold bastard before we met, but she makes me softer because I want to be good to her, good for her.

 
But deep down I’ve always known that what her parents say about me is true – she deserves better than me, and one of these days I’m probably gonna hurt her beyond repair.

  We’ve stopped for a moment at an intersection, so I reach back to pat her leg reassuringly. Just touching her helps clear the morbid thoughts from my mind.

  As the light turns green and the car in front of us clears the intersection, I drop my Fat Boy into gear and ease the throttle, smiling as Sasha reflexively tightens her grip.

  The sudden screeching of tires drowns out the roar of my engine. I catch a brief glance of headlights to my right, just before I’m launched into the air.

  The next few seconds seem to stretch out endlessly as my body is hurled across the highway. I spin helplessly, briefly blinded by the headlamp on my Harley as my bike’s shattered frame twists and sparks across the pavement beneath me. Before I can scream out for Sasha, gravity snatches me back, slamming me into the weedy ditch at the side of the road.

  …

  A piercing light shines directly into my eyes. When the light disappears, I’m finally able to make out the face, one of a man I’ve never seen before hovering over me just inches away in the darkness.

  “Who…who the fuck …wh-what the hell…happened?” I gasp. I try to force myself to sit up but fall back as a nauseating wave of vertigo washes over me.

  “You had a wreck,” the stranger’s voice tells me slowly. “Try not to move. We’re gonna get you to the hospital.”

  Wreck? Hospital?

  My eyes squint as I try to put the world back into focus to figure out what the fuck’s happening. The last thing I remember is sitting in the tattoo chair with Sasha beside me; then we were outside the shop on my bike…