by Evan Grace
“Fuck, you’re so sexy. I can’t get over that hot little body of yours.”
He’s so beautiful and so different than Razor—more rugged, where Razor has boy band good looks. I’m just curious though. “Why are you here?”
Wyatt comes toward me and then lifts me up into his arms. My legs go around his waist, and I grab his face, tilting it back and attacking his lips. God, what is wrong with me, making out with two guys almost a week apart?
He lowers me to my bed and comes down on top of me. Shit, I love the weight of him on me. His cock is hard as he thrusts against me. I moan against his lips and then brush my tongue against his.
I raise my arms as he whips my t-shirt off. He reaches behind me, unhooking my bra. As soon as my breasts are freed, he leans down, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
He switches back and forth between nipples, sucking on them and pinching them until I can’t take it anymore. I writhe underneath him, rubbing against his hard dick.
He pulls his sleeveless t-shirt off and then stands up, stripping out of his jeans and boxer briefs. Wyatt picks up his jeans, grabbing a condom from his wallet. He quickly sheaths himself before climbing back on the bed.
Wyatt’s dick looks even bigger in the daylight, but I know it feels good. He crawls between my legs and lines his cock up with my pussy and slides in. We both groan as he buries himself to the hilt.
He grabs my thigh and pulls my leg up over his hip, sinking deeper inside of me. I hold onto him as he begins fucking me. “Shit, baby, you’ve got such a tight cunt.”
I pull him down for a kiss and suck his tongue into my mouth. He grabs my hands and pulls them up and over my head, pinning them to the mattress. Wyatt gets up on his knees and spreads our legs wider and then begins fucking me with abandon.
“Rub your clit, baby, help me get you there,” he growls.
I reach between us, rubbing my clit until the familiar stirrings of an orgasm start. He leans down and sucks my nipple into his mouth until I begin to come. Wyatt picks up the pace and fucks me roughly into the mattress. He begins to growl as he pumps once, twice, and then plants himself to the hilt, coming inside of me.
I whimper as he pulls out of me. “Let me get rid of this. I’ll be right back.” Rolling to my side, I watch him walk naked into my bathroom. A few minutes later, I hear the toilet flush and then the sink turn on and off. He comes back in and climbs on the bed and lies next to me.
“I’m sorry I left you guys that night at your clubhouse. I—”
Wyatt covers my mouth. “Don’t, baby. I talked to Razor. He told me he talked to you.”
I freeze. “What?”
He rolls to his side. “Baby, Razor is my best friend. I know he was over here with you.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. I grab my pillow and put it over my head. “I’m not a slut.” It sounds muffled due to my pillow.
Wyatt pulls it away from me. “No one said you’re a slut, baby.”
“Yes, but the first night I met you, I had sex with both of you. Then last week I made out with, and almost had sex with, Razor. Now I’m here with you and we just had sex.” Shit, my face feels so hot.
“Baby, there is nothing wrong with liking sex and having it. You’re single, we’re single, so why the fuck should we not be fucking any chance we get?”
“Won’t he be mad that you’re here with me and that we had sex?”
There’s a knock on the door, and Wyatt climbs out of bed, slipping his jeans on, and walks toward my door while I quickly throw on my t-shirt and shorts sans bra and panties.
I follow him to the door, and when he pulls it open, Razor is standing there and looks between the two of us. I wait for him to explode, but instead he comes right in, picking me up, and once my legs are wrapped around his waist, he pulls my mouth down to his, kissing me roughly and turning me on even though I just came a few minutes ago.
What are they doing to me? You know, I’ve worked so hard to get where I am; I deserve a little fun, and that’s what I’m going to have.
I have a feeling these two are going to destroy me for any other men, and I can’t wait.
The End for Now
Meet the men of the Rowdy Rebels MC coming the summer of 2021
About the Author
A Midwesterner and a readaholic most of her life, one day an idea came into her head and a writing career was born. She’s a sucker for happily ever afters and loves creating fictional worlds that others can get lost in. She loves putting her characters through the ringer but loves when they get to that satisfying, swoony ending.
When the voices in her head give it a rest, which isn’t often, she can always be found with her e-reader in her hand. Some of her favorites include Aurora Rose Reynolds, (the queen) Kristen Ashley, Kaylee Ryan, Natasha Madison, and Harper Sloan. Evan finds a lot of her inspiration in music, movies, TV shows, and life.
She’s a wife to Jim and a mom to Ethan and (the real) Evan, a weightlifter, a home healthcare scheduler, and a full-time writer. How does she do it? She’ll never tell.
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Evan-Grace/626268640762539
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/Evan76Grace
Website:
http://www.authorevangrace.com/
Goodreads:
http://www.authorevangrace.com/
Wrong Address
By Mandy Michelle
Chapter One
Jason
Casey Andrews?
Jason shook the long narrow package he found in his mailbox. He was not Casey, but it was his address, Apartment 3B, typed on the label.
He tossed the parcel down on the kitchen table with his latest copy of Biker Beauties and jogged back down to the lobby. C. Andrews. Apartment 3C.
Ah. The little cutie next door. Only moved in a few weeks ago.
Five feet zilch, fiery red hair, and big, nerdy glasses. She seemed shy, but there was more to her than met the eye. The girl had a voracious sex life. He heard a lot of moaning through their shared wall.
He wouldn’t admit it to anyone in his motorcycle club, The Rolling Devils, but he had gotten off to the sound of her cries of pleasure a time or two.
Jason wanted her, but she never gave him the time of day. She went out of her way not to meet his lascivious gaze. It was probably because he was a leather clad, tattooed biker and she was the buttoned-up, office type.
Now he had a package to deliver. And if she was lucky, he might let her open his package too.
Chapter Two
Casey
Delivered.
Yet, besides her latest issue of Toned and Tattooed magazine, her mailbox had been empty. The discreet parcel she was waiting for was not there when she had checked her box before leaving for work.
Her stomach dropped. Someone else had her package.
What had she been thinking? She should have just slipped on a pair of black shades and went to the grimy XXX shop on the other side of town like Jessa told her to.
After a rare night of drinking over Skype with her best friend back home in Kansas, Casey had confessed her birthday wish was a big purple vibrator. In her inebriated state, she had placed the order that very night. Something to bring to life all that porn she watched.
But it was more than that. She couldn’t count the times in the last couple weeks she had fantasized about her sexy new neighbor, his leather jacket, toned thighs in torn jeans, and mussed hair, tousled by the wind from riding on his Harley.
Casey took her glasses off and rubbed her hands over her reddening face. Someone in her building had her brand-new vibrator. She groaned.
“What’s that, Casey?”
She closed the e-mail, with the helpful photo of exactly what she ordered bright on the screen and looked up at her co-worker Russ. “Sorry?”
“I thought I heard you call me?”
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. The sweet guy in the cubicle next door was always looking for an excuse to talk
to her. “Nope.”
“Oh. Uh, okay.” He laughed. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Thanks.” Back to worrying was more like it.
After looking over her shoulder, she opened the online order form once more and doublechecked the address she had entered.
And there it was. 3B.
THREE.
FREAKING.
B.
Not 3C. Not her own address. She had entered in the apartment number of her sexy biker neighbor.
It must have been her subconscious.
J. Campbell was on her mind.
A lot.
The man was a god of tats and leather.
He was her dream man, but he was a biker, and she was a nerd with giant glasses, tiny boobs, and not one single tattoo. She was way outside his league.
The worst part, he now knew she ordered a vibrator.
Casey could just imagine him, legs astride a big black hog, laughing with his friends, with his girlfriends―multiple, she was sure he was a three-way kind of guy―about his loser neighbor and her buzzing boyfriend.
When her head hit the desktop, it was loud, and she felt Bradley, Warren, and Russ staring at her. She didn’t need to look up to feel their gazes. She sobbed. Her life was over.
Chapter Three
Jason
Jason heard her keys jingling. The curse words whispered under her breath when she dropped them.
Every damned day.
And then the door closed.
He heard her turn on her favorite alternative rock station and imagined her moving that sexy little body of hers around the apartment as she stripped out of her clothes.
She must work in one of those stuffy skyscrapers downtown. It didn’t suit her.
Not the girl he heard behind the wall.
Jason looked down at the package on the table and laughed.
His neighbor was a wild girl.
His fingers itched to strip her down himself and ink her with his own hands. To mark her with his art.
He didn’t want to stop there, either, but it would be a hell of a start.
He picked up the plastic dick, bright purple, and looked it over.
How was this sexy? How did this turn a girl on? It was half the size of his own cock, thinner.
“What’s this? A place for batteries.” He walked over to his kitchen drawer, found a pair of AAs, and loaded them inside. He flicked the switch and watched the toy vibrate, rotate a little.
He shut it off.
Poor girl.
This should be a last resort. It was hardly a replacement for the real thing.
It was a cry for help, really.
He was more than willing to rescue the adorable girl next door.
Right the hell now.
Chapter Four
Casey
Phone tucked between her head and shoulder, cheesy elevator music playing in her ear, Casey paced the apartment in her underwear while waiting for her shower to heat up.
She hoped customer service would understand her mistake and maybe send her a new vibrator. How could they not have sympathy for her?
Casey groaned, then ended the call, and tossed the phone on the bed. Maybe J. Campbell hadn’t picked up his mail.
Maybe she could orchestrate a low-level mission impossible, break into his mailbox, and retrieve the parcel before he noticed it.
Casey rummaged through her closet for a black hoodie and beanie.
The pounding on her front door made her scream.
With no intention to answer the door, Casey ran to the peephole in her bra and panties. Her gasp was audible. The face in the peephole was a contorted, but still sexy version of J. Freaking. Campbell.
And he was smiling.
No.
He was smirking.
He got the package.
He had opened the package.
Illegal as it was, they both knew she wouldn’t call the FBI to make a report.
It was official. She was going to die of utter humiliation.
Chapter Five
Jason
“Casey?”
Jason knocked on the door again. He knew she was standing there. Her shadow moved in the gap under the door. He heard her breathing.
Goddamn, the walls in this place were pathetic considering the price of his rent.
“Yes.”
“Hey, babe. I have your mail.”
More silence. “Um. Can you just leave it in the hallway?”
He chuckled to himself. “I wouldn’t want someone to steal it.”
“Oh. That’s thoughtful, actually.”
He stared at the door. Still unopened. Wondered what she was thinking. If her face was bright pink. Brighter than her sex toy.
“I’m not a bad guy. Or a psycho. I’m a business owner. Illustrated Ink down on Fortieth and Main? I call my grandmother every Sunday. Help little old ladies across the street.”
He was near desperate to see those eyes. It had become an obsession over the last few weeks since she had first moved in. He was guessing light eyes with her sexy auburn hair and milky skin.
“Will you just wait until I dress?”
It took everything in Jason’s power not to groan at the image that flashed in his mind.
Jason cleared his throat, so he didn’t sound like a prepubescent boy. “Of course.” He didn’t work tonight. Yeah, the guys were going to ride, but he was willing to cancel for this. He could wait a few minutes for the woman to dress. It would make undressing her just that much sweeter.
The door swung open.
His idea of dressed differed vastly from hers. Jason noticed her legs first under the stretched-out hem of an oversized cable knit sweater. It just skimmed her thighs.
God, if she lifted her arms just slightly, he would be able to see her panties. If she was wearing any.
Her feet were bare, toes painted cherry red. All that blank canvas. His fingers itched at his sides to sketch something that would enhance her smooth skin. She was gorgeous as she was, but inked, damn, she would be perfect.
“Um. Hi?”
His eyes darted to hers. Pale green, almost clear, like sea glass, wide and locked onto his, behind those goddamn sexy glasses.
“Hi.” He winked. Gave her that sideways smirk he was famous for and her cheeks flamed brighter.
“May I?” Jason said the words, only as a formality, because he had already stepped inside the apartment.
He looked around, surprised at how spacious and airy it seemed. That could be attested to the open curtains as opposed to the black sheets he had all but nailed over his windows.
“I like your place.”
He would admit that was a cheesy line. But it worked as an icebreaker. He spent a lot of time in women’s apartments, and those were usually the only four words that made it out of his mouth before talking was eclipsed by incredible sex.
“Isn’t it the same as yours?” Casey tugged on the hem of her sweater.
“Mirrored. I think we share a bedroom wall.” He let that thought simmer as he walked around, looked for photos of boyfriends, swiped one of her business cards. He could do discreet. But then he saw her open laptop on the coffee table. Porn Place.
He chuckled to himself. That explained the orgies in her bedroom when he didn’t see anyone coming or going. There was a lot of coming, though.
The laptop slammed closed, and Casey set her hand on his shoulder. “Please leave.”
Jason held up both hands. “I’m sorry. I was snooping. You’re just so elusive. I want to get to know you.”
She shook her head, her soft hair swished around her shoulders. “No. Just, god, this is so embarrassing.” Her palms were pressed to his chest and she kept pushing him, so he walked backwards to the door. “Can we forget this ever happened?”
“Sorry, no.” Jason stepped back into the hallway. “You’re unforgettable.”
The door slammed in his face.
He chuckled. This girl was perfection.
He had to have her.
Chapter Six
Casey
“He still has my parcel,” Casey whined.
“Why didn’t you ask for it when he was in your living room?”
“He saw my laptop screen. Knows I watch more porn than a teenaged boy.” She sighed. “And because he is so sexy, I couldn’t think straight.”
Jessa snorted. “So…why didn’t you do anything about it? Forget the toy, you were mere inches away from the real thing.”
Casey paced back across the room for the twentieth time in the last five minutes. “This is all your fault, anyway, Jess.” She pitched her voice up high and nasal. “Get a vibrator. You’re a modern, independent woman in a big city. You deserve to have a little fun.”
Jessa could not seem to stop laughing. “I do not sound like that.”
“Jess. Not the point, here.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll order you a new one. My treat. Clearly, your neighbor wants to keep yours.” Jessa snickered. “Can you wait two days? Or should I pay extra for speedy delivery?”
There was a knock at the door. “Jess. I’m going to call you back. My food’s here.”
“Okay, Case. Hang in there. Orgasms are on the way.”
Casey groaned and then tossed the phone on the couch and grabbed her wallet. “Coming.”
Chinese food solved everything. If anyone deserved deep fried wontons, it was her.
But it wasn’t the delivery man at the door. Oh, no. It was Jason. Black t-shirt stretched over his broad chest, arms sleeved in beautiful tattoos. Hair like Elvis, lip curled up…like Elvis.
“Hi. I thought you were…”
“Johnny Anaconda from Porn Place? Nope. Sorry to disappoint. Just Jason from next door.”