Relentless Desire (Relentless Romances Book 1)

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Relentless Desire (Relentless Romances Book 1) Page 1

by Amber Burns




  Relentless Desire

  A Relentless Romance

  By Amber Burns

  Published by Scarlet Lantern Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 by

  Amber Burns & Scarlet Lantern Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language.

  All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  More Bad Boy Romances From Amber Burns

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  1

  I didn’t know what was on display. And frankly, I didn’t care if the cute salesgirl wasn’t up for purchase. Luckily, she hadn’t noticed me yet. She was a bouncy brunette, with a killer figure if I’ve ever seen one, though she had all the good bits covered up under a frumpy sweater dress that could have been chewed by a dog… or her dryer. It did nothing for her either way.

  I knew she had sexy hidden under those layers, and I would have liked nothing more than to prove my theory. The idea of going in the small shop, climbing up that display and taking her there for the world to view came to the fore of my perverted mind.

  Who knew I had such an exhibitionist in me?

  I took a languid sip of my coffee, scalded my tongue with the damn thing, and then took another sip after realizing the pain worked to cancel out the boner stretching my boxers. It was that or I would have to reach down and make some room for my friend, but I figured I was freaking out passersby with my staring enough as it was.

  I’m a big guy.

  Six feet nothing, broad shoulders, a freshly shaved head, and a tat sleeve snaking out of my breezy tee with more ink secreted away. I’ve had braver people tell me I looked like danger and trouble.

  In all those instances I stuck out my hand and introduced myself as Marine Sergeant Amos Fuller, and left it to them to either take me for my word or run the other way. I’ve made a few friends that way.

  My mind made its way back to ogling the brunette building the mannequin with her derriere on display. I wondered how she’d react to me. We would definitely meet, that much I’d be making certain of. From there, we’d see where it went, but what I wanted, I usually damn well make sure I got. Right then, I wanted this salesgirl, bad.

  A throat being cleared at my side got my attention long enough to catch the disapproving look of a couple of old biddies. As soon as our eyes make contact, they huddled against each other and linked their arms, visibly tightening their connection. The one holding a cane raised it as if to say: ‘don’t even try it, it’s broad daylight and I’m not afraid to use this thing, perv’.

  I gave them a pointed stare to answer their unsaid accusations with my own silent declaration: ‘Yeah, yeah. You know exactly what I’m up to, and you aren’t going to do anything about it.’

  Their eyes widen just a fraction and then they scurried off to the other side of the narrow street, leaving me to drool in bliss. I turned to the window and found that ‘salesgirl’ was bending lower, and I subconsciously leaned forward, following the stretching material of her scratchy-looking dress of a sweater ride up over her ass.

  She was not too thin and not too thick, my kind of girl all right. Compared to her trimmer waist, her butt was wide and round. My palms were itching to take hold of her by those fat cheeks, push her back against me, and spread them wide while I nudged my stiff dick in her crack.

  Images of my cock parting her ass forced me to close my eyes so that I could rein the fantasy in long enough to get her name at the least. I opened my eyes and watched the seasonal garland around the bottom of the window that started to obscure the wonderful view of her backside.

  Autumn never looked so damn fine.

  Now bend over some more, I silently wished.

  Like she heard my command, an article slipped out of her hand and fluttered to the floor. She went after it pretty quickly, giving me more of that ass, front and center. My attraction to her made me wonder what her tits looked like, or her face… Shit, I hadn’t thought about that. A butter face would be the perfect way to ruin this fantasy I had building.

  Then again, I couldn’t rationalize why I was attracted to this stranger. There was a tug at my cock, sure, but there was something pulling in my chest too. My senses had never been so alive. I wanted her like I wanted a cold lager, chips and dip, and a whole day to wedge a dent in my couch in front of the sports channel.

  That’s why I decided I didn’t care if she was a butter face. It was an instant, snap-finger decision, too. I don’t care if this covert cutie is hot or not.

  She already had me nearly creaming in my pants on the sidewalk even before I had seen her face. If that was fate grabbing me by the balls and tugging my dick in the right direction, then I didn’t know what other sign I needed.

  She was standing and then bending as she worked. Her tush was in the air, swaying to some imaginary music, or maybe real music that I couldn’t hear. Mid-sip, my teeth sank into the rim of the paper cup, giving my teeth and lips a splash of my bitter, hot drink. Some of the liquid trickled down my chin. I wiped the dribbles with the back of my hand; it would have to do as a napkin for now since I was too damn busy plugging my eyes back into my sockets.

  All my worries before? Done and forgotten. She was hot.

  “Fuckin’ hot,” I breathed, scratching my stubble of a beard. “Oh mama…”

  Her dark hair, tied in a no-nonsense bun, gave me a clearer picture of her face. She had a button nose, eyes framed by a wreath of dark lashes, plump cheeks, full lips, and a throat that brought to mind words like ‘swan’, and ‘graceful’.

  A closet exhibitionist and now a poet... I was either heading for gold here, or grasping at straws.

  Mind, it was only a side profile, but I was reassured by what I had seen. This salesgirl was one smokin’ babe; and she was about to be mine. The gears were rotating, spinning faster as I thought up scheme after scheme for bringing her into my arms and filling her up for the rest of our lives.

  She was lucky I was in the market for wife-y material, because now, she was it. She may not have known it yet, but I upgraded her from covert cutie sales girl to Mrs. Fuller. Unless she was one of those women who wanted to keep her family name. We could do a fair trade: she would keep her last name, and I would keep her till death parted us.

  I groaned when she turned away without looking over at the horny guy who was eye-humping her for the last ten minutes or so. But then I was staring at her ass again, and I forgot my rant. I also took another sip of my coffee and burned my tongue some more. I was ignoring the pain, and most everything else besides the view in front of me, when my eyes were forcibly peeled away from
the object of my obsession by a throat clearing emphatically.

  What is it with people in this city? I didn’t figure Albany, New York was filled with a bunch of prudes. Yet here I was, staring down another A-hole who couldn’t mind his own business.

  The throat clearer was bringing his scarf up around his ears, and I made my head-to-boot survey of him an insult and a violation at the same time. A beanie covered his hair, but what I could make of it was dirty blonde and wavy. His beard could have warmed his neck if he didn’t have the scarf. To sum it up: a foppish hipster.

  Yet, I did respect the beard. I had been growing mine for two weeks, and all I had to show for my effort was a bit of a rugged stubble. I was jealous.

  “Can I help you?” he asked. It came off a little snippy.

  I noticed that he was holding a tray of drinks from the same café I had stopped at to grab my second morning coffee. He had a total of three cups and a coupon for free re-fill in the center of the tray. That, and the two brown paper bags in his other hand, suggested he worked or lived nearby.

  The Marines honed my senses to pick up random details and make sense of them so that I would have something to work with. But so far, I was coming up with a blank as to how to use this information. Intuition told me there was more, patience told me to wait it the fuck out.

  “Hel-lo?” he crooned at me.

  Okay, now he was giving me the stink eye.

  “Are you lost?” he asked. His stare made me believe he actually thought I was lost - lost and crazy that is.

  Once again the cute sales girl was to blame. I hadn’t even gotten her name yet, but she was already getting me into all this trouble.

  “Not lost, just looking.” I kept it honest, though I resisted the urge to add, ‘I’m checking out a girl, so help a brother out, brother.’ This guy didn’t look like he’d be helping me with anything any time soon.

  He studied me for another long minute, though it could have been less than that. It was enough for me to wonder if he was angling for a fight, though I wouldn’t lay a finger on him. It wouldn’t make sense for a guy of my size to take on this shorter, slimmer dude.

  Very directly, he looked from me to the nearly empty display window and back again. The beanie was sitting too low for me to see, but his brows were probably quirked up to match his lips. He saw what I was up to, and he found it funny.

  “I promise there are more goodies on the inside, if you dare to come in,” he said.

  Before I could piece together a decent comeback, he rounded past me and pushed open the door to the store.

  I turned around, taking a step in his direction, only to freeze a little ways from the entrance. The bell above the door tinkled and, for a second, I got a glimpse of the interior past the front window.

  A mismatch of carpeting broke the pine flooring, and a vintage end table stood just behind the door’s opening. It was holding a wide book, and I couldn’t tell what it was for. Just like how I couldn’t make out much beyond the opening.

  I made one last note of a long staircase leading to the second floor of the two-story building. I peered up naturally and noted the curtains covering the second floor’s windows. Was there an apartment up there?

  My cute sales girl wasn’t alone anymore. She was answering the same bearded dude who had sorta just accosted me in one breath, and then invited me to continue my optical fuck of the girl building the display case in another.

  He was now standing in front of her, and her back was facing me. Whatever he was saying, he ended it with a hug and then gave me a wink from over her shoulder. I was stunned, and my drink almost kissed the toes of my boots before I got ahold of both myself and my drink.

  I thought I was jealous before… first because of the beard, and now his closeness to my salesgirl. Who is this guy? What game is he playing? And how the fuck do I get in for a winning chance?

  It took a while, but I finally consider tapping the glass under the arched store label.

  STERLING OUTFITS, it read in shout-y caps.

  I had never heard of it. But then again, judging by the display window, I wouldn’t figure they had anything I would want. Well, at least not merchandise wise.

  I smiled at the thought, and the salesgirl took that moment to look at me. Instead of feigning dumb, I stood taller - all six feet, baby - and made sure she could see the smirk. Her eyes widen, and then she tilted her head, obviously curious as to why I was not looking away. When my gaze didn’t waver, she turned around, showing me her back again. My grin just widened.

  Man, she has an ass on her.

  Now she knew of my existence, and she had gotten a taste of my persistence. I had no plans to walk away, but I wasn’t quite ready to enter and talk to her just yet. This peekaboo game she started was proving to be fun.

  A peek backwards at my still grinning face came from over her shoulder. When she saw I was still staring, she snapped her head away, and I could almost see her quivering with confusion. Or, maybe, it was the fear of the unknown.

  Lucky for me, I had caught her flushed cheeks before she had turned away the second time. So, she’s a shy, wallflower type, I noted. I guess that’s what I will be dealing with from here on out.

  She was back to looking at me again, and this time she slowly rounded to give me a nice full view. The sweater dress, fuck-ugly as it was, still looked decently good on her. Though that may have been solely because she was wearing it. It was a burgundy color, and it reminded me of the posh wine I had skipped over in the booze aisle. The knit material was stretching much more around her round hips than her smaller breasts, and there were loop holes on either side of her waist for a belt she had disposed of. The dress came to about her mid-thigh and then was overtaken - not by a length of nude legs, unfortunately - but by black, skin-tight jeans.

  She was red in the face now, and was standing still with a measuring tape in her hands. A look of defiance began to dawn on her pretty mouth, which only made me want her more. Her attention had made me painfully and deliciously hard, just how I like it.

  No pain, no gain.

  The gain would be well worth it, too. The ultimate goal was being buried balls deep inside her while I laid under her. My hands would be tracing, measuring the distance from her fleshy hips to her jiggling tits. I could hear her screaming my name, sending me to the same paradise she was in with a final thrust. Her tight, hot cunt milking me of my seed. Then, months later I’d be skimming her stretching belly, feeling the kick of our first brat…

  I shook my head to bring myself out of my fantasy and back to the present. She was still staring, that defiant look hardening into her features. It was the kind of look that says: ‘why are you looking at me like that?’ or better, ‘won’t you go away?’

  Don’t bet your sweet cheeks on it.

  “I’m in it to win it, baby,” I said at a normal pitch. My girl wasn’t close enough to hear my proclamation, but it gave the desired effect. At my moving mouth, she inclined her head and her nose wrinkled with her bewilderment. It was the cutest damned thing I’d seen all day.

  And now, I was ready to meet her.

  I wasn’t sure who I scared more, the sales girl I was now stalking down or the little girl reaching for the book on the vintage table. She hadn’t been standing there when I got the teaser of the store, but she was when I entered. The noise of the door caused her to jump back and run a safe distance to stairs.

  I glanced over at my salesgirl. She hadn’t moved from the display window, and I was intent to play my cards slowly. I couldn’t just saunter over, grab her hand and go Casanova on her. So instead, I lingered by the vintage desk holding the old vintage book.

  Finally standing close enough to read the gold lettering on the front black cover, I found that it was a comment book for the store. I lifted it up and flipped through it. I thumbed across the names, studied the dates, and read a handful of comments to paint a picture of Sterling Outfits.

  The pages were filled to the middle, and they dated back to
the start of the year. I guessed that meant that business was good for the owner. Which also meant that my new girl wouldn’t disappear one day in a surprise shutdown. Ah, Marine training at work.

  “Good morning. I thought I heard the bell go off,” the bearded man said to me and smiled. He came up to me, getting close and personal. I was polite enough to accept his handshake as he asked, “How can I help you?”

  Any of the ‘tude I got outside as a window-shopper apparently didn’t apply to clientele who make it past the doorway.

  “I’m looking around,” I said pretty loudly – and on purpose. I also made it a point to look over my shoulder to answer the squeak from my girl. Or soon to be my girl… she just didn’t quite know it yet.

  Haloed by the gray light from the window, she was an odd mix of pale and fleshy red, which probably described her internal state perfectly right then. She wasn’t sure what to make of me. I could see it in her eyes and feel it weighing her shoulders.

 

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