Happily Ever After (With the Bad Boy Book 15)

by Wanda Amard

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Also by Wanda Amard

  Chapter One

  Kimber

  Jefferson hits me lightly on the shoulder, a ritual for the man who doesn’t like to hug. Rubi doesn’t let me get away so easily. She locks me into a bone-crushing embrace, patting me on the back while standing in front of the trailer entrance.

  When we pull apart, I swear she sniffles. “I can’t believe you’re having a baby. I’m so excited.”

  She took the news better than I expect anyone in my family will whenever we decide to tell them. The doctor said we should wait until twelve weeks, but there was no way I couldn’t tell my best friends.

  “Aren’t you so excited Kimber’s having a baby?” Rubi asks, looking at Jefferson.

  His nose crinkles up and he swallows. “Yeah.”

  Vinn laughs, taking a seat on the couch. I find the sound comforting. While some men would freak out, Vinn couldn’t be happier. He planned this.

  I say goodbye to my two friends at the door and then turn back. “Thank you for the birthday party.” I stand at the edge of the kitchen and begin preparing the leftover cake for the fridge. Vinn bought it from the store himself.

  He stands. “Hey, give me a piece of cake, please?”

  I hastily cut a medium-sized piece and stick it on a plate, pulling a fork out from the drawer. It’s his third piece for the night. I didn’t realize he had such a sweet tooth.

  Vinn holds the refrigerator door open while I slide the cake in and then hand him his plate. He organized a small birthday party with Rubi and Jefferson and bought a huge chocolate and chocolate cake, but he’s been quiet tonight while they were here.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, staring at him as he studies the cake without eating any.

  He nods his head, clearing his thoughts. “Yeah, why?”

  There’s something off with Vinn lately, but I can’t put my finger on what. I stare at him gauging whether I should say something or if it’s better left alone. “You’ve been weird since they got here.” He opened the door to let Rubi and Jefferson in and then answered a text on his phone. I assumed it was something to do with work. Before my two best friends showed up, he’d been all smiles, but afterward the more reserved Vinn came out and with it my suspicions.

  “I just don’t like sharing you,” he says with a smile.

  I lean up against the refrigerator and continue looking for a crack in his story. “Do you not like Rubi or Jefferson?” Is it true what Jefferson said? Is there a possibility Vinn doesn’t want my best friends hanging around me? At least not the male one.

  Vinn’s face pinches and he shakes his head. “Relax, they’re a little loud but fine. Your friends are my friends.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He places the fork on the side of the plate, not putting it down, but I can tell the conversation has taken a more serious note. “I’ve been thinking a lot and I want you to know where you can find our money if something ever happened to me.”

  “We have money?” It’s obvious he doesn’t mean the debit card he gave me a few days after our wedding.

  “The shed on my mom’s property, in the back corner. Do you remember it?”

  I vaguely remember a small dark brown storage shed on the corner of her property. “Sure.”

  “There are three small Mason jars buried on the inside left corner of the shed. The entire floor is dirt, so it’s not obvious if you ever need to dig them up, but do it when my siblings aren’t there.”

  “Why did you hide money in the ground at your mom’s house?” I ask.

  “Consider it a rainy-day fund.”

  “How much is it raining?”

  Vinn grins but doesn’t answer. “There’s also a can hidden under the trailer steps here. It’s in a lock box and I hide the key in the pair of Chucks I have in the back of the closet.”

  “Vinn, you’re starting to scare me.”

  He traces a finger around my jaw and wraps a piece of hair behind my ear. “I don’t want to scare you, Kimber, but you need to know where it is in case one day you need it and I’m not here.”

  My heart thumps loudly in my chest. “Why would I need it without you?” Where will he be?

  Vinn shrugs. “There’s enough money you can live comfortably for a very long time if you manage it right. Plus there’s more with my brother and he knows to make sure you get it.”

  “Why?” What isn’t he telling me?

  His face falls in agitation. “I don’t know, Kimber, in case of a zombie apocalypse or something.”

  “If there’s a zombie apocalypse I’ll need a lot more than money to keep me safe,” I end on a high note, trying to take away the seriousness in the room.

  “There’s also a gun hidden in the lock box on my side of the bed.”

  I’ve known about the gun.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? What is this all about?”

  He holds the plate of cake underneath my nose. “Do you want your cake?”

  My stomach rolls. “Ugh. No.” I’ve had too much. Even the baby is probably on a sugar buzz. “That’ll be like your third piece.”

  Vinn smiles. “We have to enjoy things when we have them. Come with me and you might want more.”

  “You’re planning to eat cake in bed?” I ask following him into the bedroom.

  He turns back with a devilish smile on his face — one that can only mean a few things. “No, I will eat it off you.”

  I couldn’t stand the idea of more cake take two minutes ago, but now I’m all for it.

  “Won’t that be messy?” I ask, sitting on the bed and pulling off my socks.

  Vinn places the cake plate on the night stand beside him. “I plan to lick it off you if it is.”

  My nipples tingle. I hope it gets extra messy. He pushes me back until my head hits the pillow and parts my legs, leaning on his knees between them. I lift my shirt, pulling it over my head, and throw it to the floor. My bra comes next, my nipples hard points when they hit the cool air. He licks his top lip as he stares down at me and I swallow, the intensity of Vinn’s eyes a warning of what’s coming.

  He leans over me, retrieving the plate with the cake, and throws the fork on the floor before using a finger to scrape the frosting from the top and rubbing a line between my breasts. My head tips up so I can watch, and when he runs out of frosting, he goes back to the cake piece and takes another glob, spreading the sugary goodness down my torso and circling my stomach.

  His sticky, chocolate cake coated fingers roll down my pants and stick my legs high in the air until my leggings reach my ankles. He throws them behind him.

  “Whoops,” he says looking at the back of my leg. “I got cake here.” His lips quickly cover the area, and his tongue licks the chocolate smear from the back of my knee as his fingers trail against my thigh leaving smudges of frosting. His mouth takes the same journey, licking and sucking my sensitive skin while cleaning the chocolate from me. I’m the plate and he’s making sure I’m licked clean. When it becomes too much and when he gets to the epicenter of my core, my head falls back to the pillow. I suck in a deep breath, waiting for his tongue to make con
tact where I need it most.

  Vinn leaves my legs after getting ever so close but not quite making contact. And then just as my body reaches maximum temperature, even without him touching anywhere good, he pulls his head back and his tongue licks the circle of frosting at my stomach.

  “Vinn,” I say as a warning. “This isn’t enough. It’s cruel.”

  He chuckles. “You’re still messy, Kimber. We need to clean you up.” His tongue trails up my body, following the path of frosting until he laps at the other nipple and I moan. It’s frustratingly not enough.

  The smell of chocolate frosting fills the room and my senses as Vinn hovers on top of me, licking his way across my body. He fumbles for a moment, but I’m too relaxed and excited — both emotions warring for control as I lie back with my eyes closed. His tip nudges my core, and when he switches breasts after finding more chocolate, he pierces me, connecting our bodies in the ultimate way.

  It’s exquisite, I’ve grown to love the time between us, and I’ll never get bored by being with him. Vinn moves slowly, and my back arches as my fingers pull his hair, bringing his head down so his attention doesn’t waiver.

  “Oh fuck, Jailbait. You are so wet.”

  “Uh-huh,” the words stumble out of me unclearly.

  Vinn thrusts hard, connecting my body and his with a jolt. “I wanted you as dessert, but I couldn’t wait. Kimber, I need you. I’ll always need you.”

  “Yes. I love you, Vinn.”

  He grunts and flicks my clit with his thumb, causing me to fall over the edge as my body tightens around him. My fingers pull on his hair hard and Vinn calls out my name as he finishes inside me. His body maneuvers, twisting, pulling, and pushing as I drain through my orgasm with heavy breaths. He rolls me to the side, bringing me into a quick cuddle, my back to his chest.

  Small kisses rain down my neck and shoulder. He whispers sweet words I can’t quite make out, but right before I fall into a peaceful relaxed state, his words tickle my ear. “I love you, Kimber. I’ll do anything to prove it.”

  “Oh you don’t need to prove it, Vinn. I just need you to love me.”

  Chapter Two

  Vinn

  I check the message on my phone one more time before getting in the car. The old piece of crap still smells like somebody dropped a canister of Chinese take-away in the seat and let it rot for a few months, but I have bigger problems. As soon as the rest of our lives settled down, I planned to buy new cars for Kimber and me both — something safe to drive a baby around town. For now, I’m too busy proving to everyone nothing has changed in my life. I can’t walk into a dealership and buy two new cars with cash. Felons don’t have new car money. At least we’re not supposed to, anyway.

  The words on the phone screen are heavy on my heart. They’re a death sentence, but I get to choose for whom.

  RICKY: Time for work. Tomorrow 4 o’clock.

  I’ve always wondered how Ricky got away with being so brazen to conduct business at his house. It’s not like in the movies where they use secret codes and meeting places. Ricky does all of his business practically out in the open.

  The message came yesterday right as Kimber was greeting her friends into our home for her birthday, and I’ve done little but analyze it since then. This is my time to strike. Whatever Ricky needs me to do for him will only bring me further into his life of crime and take me further away from Kimber. It can’t happen. This stops now.

  I undo my seatbelt and open the car door, patting my left pocket where inside the method of destruction weighs against the material of my coat more heavily than it actually measures.

  It’s much the same as it has been when I get to Ricky’s house. One of his black-shirt goons meets me at the door, but this time rather than leading me into his open living room at the front of the house, I follow the beefy giant to the back where he opens the door to a home office, lacking one crime boss. I’m one of the pack now, inner sanctuary and all.

  “The boss will be here in a few minutes. Have a seat.” The giant stays by the door, leaving it open, and watches.

  I sit down in the chair pretending my heart isn’t about to beat through my chest as my eyes search out what I’m looking for in the room. I’ve known Ricky thought highly of himself, but from the look of this office, the tall mahogany bookcases and the big thick desk with a rolling chair behind it, he looks as if he’s in here studying medieval art history rather than selling cocaine and stealing cars.

  The cars have always been what he considered a hobby. The coke brought in real money. He’s flooded our streets with the white products for years. I met Ricky in high school when one of his guys tried to sell me a bag right outside in the school parking lot. It started with weed back then and a few of my friends sold his product. Ricky’s personal coke habit had been known since before I went to jail and from the way he covered up a nosebleed the last few times I’ve seen him, it’s easy to guess it’s gotten worse.

  I turn, playing nonchalant, and talk to the guard. We’re all part of the family now. Right? “How long until he gets here?”

  The guy shrugs. “I don’t ask questions.”

  I smirk, trying to appear cocky. “That’s too bad. Do you think you could get me something to drink from the fridge?”

  He scowls in my direction, not moving. “I’m not a maid.”

  “Haven’t you heard?” I ask, leaning back in my chair and stopping just short of putting my feet up on Ricky’s desk. “I’m one of the family now. It will upset the boss when he finds out how thirsty I am.”

  The guard rolls his eyes, but a moment of panic crosses his face at the same time. He’s thinking about what I’ve said and contemplating whether it’s true. His eyes narrow and he points a finger at me. “Stay there.”

  I settle into my chair. “Plan on it.”

  He sulks away from the door and I don’t move, watching him go. So when he turns around four steps away and checks on me, I’m still in the same position. I put my left hand in my pocket, clutching the real reason I’m here.

  This is it. Everything ends today. I’ll either join Ricky’s band of frightening Merry Men or I’ll end up six feet under if he catches me.

  I count to five, giving the guard more time to make it through the home and find something in the fridge before I jump from the chair and, quicker than I’ve ever moved, make it around Ricky’s desk. I open the top drawer and skim my hand over the contents, looking for something in particular, but it’s not here. Every coke user I’ve ever met has a stash somewhere. You just need to look in the right place. I throw open the drawer on the right trying not to make a noise, but there’s nothing. Sweat claims my brow and I swallow hard, my heart thumping in my chest and echoing in the room.

  “Do you drink diet?” the question is yelled and I stall, my hand on the top drawer on the left-hand side as panic rides through my system, threatening to out me right now. I can still walk away.

  “No, man. Don’t you have the real stuff?” I yell back, hoping and praying he doesn’t notice the quake in my voice. There’s no time to waste. I open the top of the left drawer and see nothing but pens and white out. “Fuck, Ricky,” I say, moving to the second drawer. There’s a stack of paper and a loaded gun, but nothing else. Not what I need to find.

  There’s only one drawer left and my time is running out. Someone laughs down the hall, the disgusting ugly sound of my boss. He’s talking to someone, but I can’t make out his words and it’s definitely not anyone beside him. He must be on the phone.

  I jerk open the bottom drawer and right in the center, surrounded by nothing but air, is a small Tupperware dish with a red lid. Working as fast as possible while spilling none of the white powder I have in my pocket, I pry open the corner of the container. With my other hand, I sprinkle half the bag of ground-up peanuts on top of the already white powder he’s collected. Even with all my prep, the powder is a slightly different color.

  Fuck me.

  He’ll kill me.

  I miscalcul
ated in my kitchen and as a bead of sweat pours down my face landing on the top of Ricky’s desk, I close the lid and shake it hard. It’s too late and there’s no going back at this point. I drop the container in the drawer. It makes a pinging sound off the metal. With my foot, I close the drawer and shove the left-over peanut scrapings into my pocket. The chair I sat in earlier scrapes across the floor as the guard turns the corner and I throw my body back on top of the seat.

  If the guard had been paying attention for just a second, he’d have seen me swipe my brow and take a deep breath. But by the time he’s focused on the room, my smile is back to how he left it and I’ve thrown one leg over on the chair, not in a show of cockiness like I’m sure he imagines, but desperation to get my ass in the seat fast enough.

  The guard passes the pop to me and my heart beats fast, not aware the danger is over, because it’s not. I take the cold container from him, holding my arm steady so it doesn’t shake.

  “Thanks, man. I forgot he was keeping this place ninety,” I say, taking off the black mittens I purchased on the way over to Ricky’s. Couldn’t let my hands get cold on these Michigan winter days or leave my finger prints.

  The guard laughs only once. “Next time bring your own. This isn’t a charity.”

  “Enough,” Ricky chastises him as he walks into the room. “Vinny is always welcome to what’s in my home. My Casa is your Casa,” he fucks up the saying before sitting down in his chair.

  I reposition myself and pop the top on the can of Coke, taking a large swallow to cover my face from the panic written across my features until my heart slows enough to relax. As if that will happen.

  Ricky waits for me to finish and I have a smile on my face when I ask my first question. “What’s the job, boss?”

  Ricky grins, the gold tooth looking dark and dirty in his office where only a single window provides all the light for the room. “I’ve got a big take in five days and I need a getaway driver.”