by Alyson Hale
“Jiggle it for me, baby.”
I watch her bounce, oiled and blushing. The thin threads holding my self-control intact start to unravel. I take her buttocks in both my hands, grasping her tightly, and then I rear my right hand back and slap her, hard. She shouts, but there isn’t an ounce of protest. I slap the other side, and she bucks against me, making contact with my cock. Sliding in between her cheeks, I squeeze her around myself and pump up and down, letting her wetness cover me.
“Fuck me, Damien! Please!”
I sheath my cock inside her instantly. Both of us groan out our satisfaction as I plunge base-deep inside her. As I thrust in and out, I rub her arsehole, priming her with a mixture of oil and her own lube. My finger inches inside her, stretching the tight hole, and she whimpers.
Still grasping her arse, I tear her up with my cock and two fingers. My goal is to push her to the brink, giving her the biggest orgasm I possibly can without making the pain too intense. The way she’s screaming is guttural. Primal. She has completely let go of all sense of control, which means she trusts me with everything.
A dynamite blast builds up in my balls, and I can contain myself no longer. Picking up the pace, I ram into her until we’re both coming over the edge together, shouting into the open room. Her body shakes violently underneath me, and I wrap my arms around her core, keeping her from collapsing. As soon as the waves of pleasure have died down, I uncuff her from the bed and take the blindfold off her eyes. We pant as we wrap our arms around each other, lying down side by side.
“I could get used to that,” she says breathlessly.
“You’d better.” I run my finger down her spine, bringing one final shiver out of her. “You’re all mine now. Someday you’ll wear my ring so the whole world knows it. And I’m not talking about the ring of O.”
She giggles and kisses me, and I take that as assent. Her fingers wander across my back, and she hits my bandage.
Her brows crease her forehead. “What is this? Are you hurt?”
I grin. “A bit, but it was worth it. I got my first tatt.”
Alexandrea gasps. “You did? What is it?”
I let my fingers trail down her side, losing myself in her eyes. “Your name. It’s in big, bold letters across my shoulder blades.”
Her eyes water. “You etched my name into your skin?”
“Yes, and it’s staying there forever. You are my new constant. No matter what changes, we’ll always have this.”
Alexandrea chews on her lower lips. “Damien, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
Her right hand moves down to cover her belly. “There’s going to be another constant in our lives soon.”
Joy floods my chest. A secret, wicked part of me has hoped for the past few months that she would be round with my baby soon. We’ve been fucking bareback for months, and now it finally happened. I’m going to be a father. We’ll have the perfect family we always wanted as children. Her late father and my parents will be this child’s guardian angels.
“Well then…” I lay my hand over hers. “I guess in nine months I’ll be getting my second tattoo.”
Epilogue
Alex
Fifteen years later
Damien and I stand hand-in-hand on the veranda as we watch our son and daughter ride their bikes up and down the long driveway. Their bronze skin is already starting to tan from having more time outside than they ever have in their lives. When our fourteen-year-old daughter, McKenzie, told us she wanted to go to a real high school, we couldn’t stand to tell her “no.” She was such a good girl growing up, always smiling and making everybody’s lives happier just with her mere presence. Life on the road was difficult at times with two small children running around, but we never wanted to live separate lives or to force the kids into a long-distance relationship with their dad. They dealt with the lack of permanence on the road, but eventually the time comes for everyone to settle down.
Luckily, Damien’s bandmates agreed with us. The Filthy Bangers will still be making brief trips for special performances every now and then, but their touring days have finally come to an end. Damien has spent most of his life on the road, and I could tell he was getting weary of it. When we were young and full of energy, it was the perfect life, but now I can’t think of anything more perfect than the scene in front of me.
Mom comes out of the house and stands next to us, smiling. “You made the right choice, sweetheart.”
I release Damien’s hand for a moment to give her a hug. Mom came to live with us in her own private house on the other side of our Olympic-sized swimming pool. She’s going to watch the kids if I need to go on a business trip or Damien needs to travel. We love having someone nearby to keep an eye on them if we need to go out and rent a room for the night as well. Damien and I still love our wild antics in the bedroom, but we don’t want our children overhearing them, so we keep up our regular “date nights” to keep things fresh.
Pulling back from the hug, I look into my mom’s deep brown eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right with us going out so soon after the move? I know you must be tired—”
“I’m never too tired for my grandchildren.” Mom eases down into a porch swing and shoos us off. “Now, go have fun. We’ll have a blast here.”
Damien reclaims my hand and squeezes it. The cold metal of my ring smushes into my hand, reminding me of the day we acted like crazy fools in Vegas and got engaged and married all in the same night. The Bangers, Calloways, and my mom were all there for Damien’s surprise proposal and they witnessed our union by a notary public in the park. I wore a white sundress and Kyri stood next to me in a green sundress and acted as my maid of honor. It was the most beautiful night of my life.
I smile up at Damien and let him lead me to the car. He stops beside it and takes me in his arms, pressing me up against the passenger door as he devours my lips.
“Ew! Stop it!” Our kids yell at us from down the driveway, and we chuckle.
“So who’s the sub tonight?” I whisper, biting my lower lip.
“How about we take turns?” A sparkle enters his eye.
“Perfect.” I press my lips against his again, feeling like I won the life lottery. I used to think I was the unluckiest person on earth. That I would always be the one left out, not getting anywhere with my life. Now, as the owner of a successful fashion company and the wife of the hottest lead guitarist who ever lived, I can barely even remember my past insecurities. My life rocks, and it only seems to get better and better.
THE END
Rock Her Series
Rock Her Hard – Jace and Kyri
Rock Her Wild – Damien and Alex
Rock Her Long – Eddie and Elyza
Rock Her Up – Connor and Ingrid
***BONUS CONTENT***
Chapter 1 of Ready For Him: A Single Dad Next Door Romance
Grant Sherwood.
Once upon a time, that name meant a lot to me. He was my first ever crush. The teenager I blushed and giggled in front of when I was in kindergarten, even though he was ten years my senior. Back then, he jokingly called me his “girlfriend” and played with me in front of high school girls to get their attention. Now he looks totally different. He isn’t the teenage string bean he once was.
This man has an eight pack.
Startling black eyes.
A deep V leading down to his swim trunks.
And he wants to go swimming in the deep end with me.
He offered to help me clean my dad’s inground pool in exchange for a free pass to use it any time he wants.
Will he remember who I am? And if he does, will he ever see me as more than the cute little “chick magnet” who lived next door?
Chapter 1
Cheyenne
I wipe my brow, exhausted, and set the pool net down to take a breath. For the past four hours, I’ve been baking in the summer heat, doing yard work for my dad. First I mowed the lawn, then I weeded the garde
n and swept the patio. Now I’m doing my best to clean out the pool, but it’s a mess, and I’m finding myself wishing I had Mary Poppins powers. It would be so nice just to snap your fingers and have everything done for you.
When my dad had a heart attack two weeks ago, I immediately moved back across town to take care of him. My mom passed before we moved here and he’s all I have left. I couldn’t stand the thought of him being here all alone. One of the reasons I stayed in town for college after graduating high school was because I know his health wasn’t good, and I wanted to be here in case something happened. Getting that phone call in the middle of the night was my worst nightmare come to life. I’m not leaving until I’m one hundred percent certain he’s going to be all right.
Through my bleary haze, I notice a tall, dark figure making his way up our driveway. I groan, thinking at first that it’s another door-to-door salesman. My dad seems to be a magnet for them.
As the man draws closer, I recognize him and my heart stops for a second.
Grant Sherwood?
No way. It can’t be him. Grant Sherwood left this small town over a decade ago and never looked back. I remember when it happened. I watched him leave with an ache in my chest.
He seems to stretch up to the sky with his six feet of burly manliness and his voluminous black hair. His eyes have darkened beyond the deep brown they were before. His jaw is just as sharp, his lips just as full, but his body…
Holy crap. The last ten years have been good to the slim teenager I knew once upon a time.
Now he’s sauntering up my driveway toward the back gate with a crooked smirk warping his face, just like he used to, except now there’s a lot more of him. Has he come here to tease me? Marvel at how much I’ve grown? The last time he saw me, I was only eight years old and barely a blip on his radar. I was the little neighbor girl, the one he played catch with out in the yard when girls were coming to his house for a party and he wanted to endear them to himself.
I had a stupid crush on that boy for years. It started when I was in teeball and he taught me how to make contact with the ball. My dad was never that great at sports. He tried so hard to teach me, but the truth is he was much more interested in building a house of cards or a birdhouse with me than smacking a ball into oblivion.
I used to watch my handsome neighbor through the wooden slats of the fence that went between our two houses. His megawatt smile melted my insides. I listened to his deep laughter and loud antics with his friends, wishing I was a grown-up already and could party with the big kids.
Grant, or “Sherwood” as he everyone called him, was a town hero, the quarterback who led our high school to their first ever state championship and made the winning touchdown. After he left town, his parents constantly bragged to my parents about how well their son was doing, getting a full ride to college and making straight A’s, and I listened to it all. When he brought home a girl with a ring on her finger a year after graduating, I cried for three days straight. It was stupid—I’d had plenty of time to get over my childhood crush—but he was so perfect and gorgeous. It’s a shame his own wife wasn’t as stuck on him as I was.
I heard about his divorce a couple months ago and felt sadness for him. He and his wife seemed to be truly in love. I had let go of the fantasy of him after I heard they were expecting a child together. It seemed like things were hopeless for me, but now here he is again, and there’s no mistaking the twinkle in his eye. He remembers me. I try to stop my stomach from doing somersaults, but it’s always had a mind of its own when it comes to Grant Sherwood.
When he opens the gate, my heart falls to pieces for a different reason. There’s a tiny, chubby hand interlaced with his. The little boy has his daddy’s dark hair and dimples. His eyes are shining with excitement.
“Pool, Da-ee! Pool!”
Grant chuckles as they approach me. I brush my wild hair out of my face, embarrassed to be caught without a bra in a paint-stained t-shirt and athletic shorts. I didn’t expect to see anyone this afternoon. We’ve had visitors coming and going, but usually they call first.
“So sorry to bother you,” Grant begins, holding on to his squirming son’s hand for dear life. His lopsided grin brings out a dimple in his cheek. “Cheyenne Jefferson? Is that really you?”
My awkward giggle hangs in the air between us. “Yes, it’s really me. It’s been a while.”
“Obviously, it has.” He shakes his head in amazement. I don’t miss the way his eyes make a quick scan of my body. It makes my cheeks heat. “My God, I can’t believe I stayed away from home this long. How old are you now?”
“Eighteen. I’ll be nineteen in a couple of weeks.”
He lets out a long whistle. “Wow. You look so different. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
My cheeks feel like they’re a thousand degrees. I divert the attention from myself.
“And who’s this big guy?” I squat down to the little boy’s level, and he shrinks away from me behind his daddy’s leg.
“This is Hudson.” Grant nudges his son forward. “Don’t be shy, buddy. This is a nice lady and our next door neighbor. Her name is Cheyenne.”
“Hi, Hudson.” I hold up my hand. “Can you gimme five?”
The little boy tries to resist, but his little lips pop into a grin and he slaps his hand against mine, still huddled into his dad.
I giggle and stand to my feet. “He’s adorable.”
“Thanks. It’s good to see you.”
“You too.”
Grant’s attention has drifted to our pool. “Hey, so I was wondering, are you having to clean that pool all by yourself?”
“Yeah. My dad had a heart attack.”
His eyes make contact with mine again, and I try to suppress the tingles sparking through my limbs. Every time he looks at me, I feel my heart pumping faster and my stomach doing somersaults. Somehow becoming a dad has made him even hotter.
“I heard. I’m so sorry, Cheyenne.”
“Thanks. He’s much better now, but his doctor told him to take it easy. I’m helping out until he’s fully back on his feet.”
Grant smiles, and I swear my heart melts into a puddle. “That’s good of you. I’m sure your dad appreciates it. I came over here to offer my help. As you probably remember, I had a little pool cleaning business back in high school. I’d be happy to clean it in exchange for being able to come over here with Hudson and swim.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t your parents have their own pool?”
“Yes, but it’s in desperate need of repair. I have yet to find a repair guy I trust. My parents are in the process of moving out and giving me their house. They want something smaller without the upkeep. ”
Inwardly, I yell at my stomach to stop jumping. “So you’re moving here full time?”
“Yeah. I want to be close to my parents for Hudson’s sake. He needs stability and family right now. The only problem is they still both work, and I don’t have a nanny.” He chuckles, rubbing his neck. “Sorry, I’m unloading on you. You’re just so easy to talk to.”
Be still, my heart.
I swallow hard. My nerves are bunching up in my throat. It’s not like me to strike deals or make arrangements with people. Up until this past year, I usually let dad decide things for me. Now I’m an adult, and more than ever with Dad being sick, I’ve had to come to terms with it.
“You know, I could watch Hudson in exchange for you helping me around the house. I mean, that is until you’ve found a permanent nanny.”
Grant’s eyes widen. “Are you serious? You’d be saving my fucking life.” He looks down at Hudson, realizing he just said a cuss word in front of his son. “Shit.” Scrunching his face, he makes it even worse. “Dammit!”
“Dammid!” Hudson echoes, and I try my best to stifle my laughter behind my fist.
“See?” Grant’s wild, desperate eyes meet mine. “I need help.”
“Come here, Hudson.” I reach out for his hand, giggling. “How about we let your daddy
get to work before he shoves his whole dang foot in his mouth?”
Hudson hesitates, shrinking back into his daddy’s leg again. He shakes his head.
“Come on, buddy. I won’t hurt you.” Then I get an idea and grin. “Do you like chocolate chip cookies?”
The way his face lights up makes my heart sing. This little boy is just painfully cute. “Coo-ies!” He immediately toddles into my arms. I pick him up and sling him onto my hip. I’ve had lots of practice babysitting through high school. It was how I earned enough to pay for my car straight out.
“Wow, you’re a natural.” Grant’s gaze holds gratitude, but there’s also something else. He’s looking at me in a way I’ve never been looked at before, not even by guys in high school.
Being out here with him is going to give me heatstroke. I need some space to breathe and cool down.
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- ABOUT THE AUTHOR -
Alyson Hale is a naughty little minx who lives in an undisclosed location in the American South. Her weaknesses are rock stars, cowboys, and billionaires. Alyson promises no story of hers will ever end without an HEA because her readers deserve an escape from reality. Her favorite activities are writing, designing graphics and covers, and taking long walks in the country.
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