Forever (With the Bad Boy Book 11)

by Wanda Amard

  Kimber doesn’t give two seconds of thought to my whispered demand before she smiles devilishly and shakes her head no.

  So much punishment coming for my vixen when we get home.

  “So, Rubi,” Kimber says louder than our previous conversations. “Are you taking your exams in January?” Her elbow pulls back across the table at the end of her question, catching a glass of ice water on the table and sliding it close to the table’s edge.

  Kimber looks back with a smirk before my brain pieces together her plan. Her elbow flicks out and nicks the glass, tipping it over. The icy cold water splashes against my pants before my hands can fumble to catch any and I’m left holding only a single cube. The water drenches my pants, the icy chill seeping against my skin.

  “Holy fuck, that’s cold,” I holler, not concerned with offending the mostly empty restaurant. I stand, my pants tented, and hurry to wipe the water from the fabric while hiding evidence of my arousal. She’s in so much trouble.

  Kimber slides from the booth seat, getting close to my pants and patting at my bobbing dick. “Oh, Vinn, I’m so sorry!” Her exaggerated apology takes place as she smooths her hands over my pants double checking for remaining ice. “Let’s find the bathroom.”

  There’s my girl.

  “You two have fun,” Jefferson says with a grin he only shares with me.

  Kimber doesn’t walk fast enough. If I tried to pull her along it would look like I was kidnapping my new bride from the Olive Garden, but the longer we take the harder my dick grows, pushing my pants out further.

  Damn the dress pants she made me wear. I would’ve married Kimber in anything, but she was sure we had to dress in our best so pictures could be hung on the wall and shared with future generations. My wife would look good if you put her in a burlap sack, and I’d show those pictures off with pride to anyone who came within fifty feet of our home. But I wanted her to be happy and if dressing up made her happy, so be it.

  I’d lasso the moon for her if I could.

  The bathroom looms nearer and when the hostess isn’t looking, I push both Kimber and me past the men’s room door. There is less of a chance of a man walking in on us and reporting anything than a female. The last thing I want is to get kicked out of the restaurant on our wedding day.

  “Vinn, we can’t do anything here,” Kimber whispers as if the walls are eavesdropping and will tattle.

  “Shh, Jailbait.” Today may be the day she lives up to her name.

  The bathroom counter looks inviting, but we’ve mastered the art of counter sex. Although, later at home I could lay her out on ours and eat her like dinner. It’s a plan.

  Right now I need a better plan — something to conceal but not hinder. The handicap stall at the back of the bathroom is available and empty so I cover her mouth and push past the brown swinging door.

  “The key is to be quiet,” I say, looking her in the eyes before releasing my hand.

  She nods with determination.

  There are options in this area that we didn’t have elsewhere. Against the door sex, hanging on to the handicap bar sex, or on the toilet sex. My brain overworks deciding on a way. The door could be too noisy, the bar too low, but the toilet would work in a pinch. This is Olive Garden we’re talking about, a high-class establishment, so thankfully they have an entire seat, and I can place the lid lower giving me a seat.

  With the decision made I don’t waste another second. Undoing my belt I lower my pants enough and slip my dick from my boxers but leaving them on as cover. My cock is hard, red, and angry. He’s waited long enough for his prize.

  “How is this going to work?” Kimber asks almost laughing. She won’t be laughing when I’m ramming into her in a minute.

  “Just like it always does. You sit on me and I’m going to suck on a titty while you ride me.” The words alone made my dick jump in excitement. He needs her right now.

  “My dress,” she said looking down at the white lacy number I’d admired her in all day.

  “Hike it up, baby, but hurry.” I fisted my shaft, pumping to ease the ache.

  Finally, after another moment of hesitation, Kimber listens. She raises her dress inch by inch until it’s up around her hips.

  “That’s right, now come here.”

  “What if someone comes in to pee?” she whispers, getting closer.

  “That’s why being quiet is so important.” There are rules for using the men’s bathroom. Don’t ask questions and don’t interrupt. I’m counting on the men of the world to follow them today.

  Her underwear are still on by the time she reaches me, and with one solid twist I rip the fabric from her hips and toss them on the floor beside us. Kimber’s close, but not close enough and I need to fill her with my cum right this second. We have no time to waste.

  I settle my hands on her hips and walk her closer until her legs spread, making their way around my knees. Her warm cunt calls to my dick, and she slowly lowers herself until she engulfs him. My head rolls back as I’m surrounded by her heat. It’s my favorite place in the world.

  The bathroom stall falls away as I’m lost in her pussy. It’s just Kimber and me locked together in passion. She’s the only thing I see. The only thing I want to feel for the rest of my life.

  “Damn, Vinn. You’re so big.”

  Her comment makes me smug and I thrust harder, rocking her body against mine. Kimber’s dress is too tight so I can’t pull it down to suck the tit I promised, but I’ll make it up to her at home.

  “I know, baby.” My fingers fondle her clit with tweaks until she’s moaning on my lap. Fuck, if someone does walk in right now, they’ll get quite the audio show. My other hand runs across her hips, searching for her backside, and as I trail my index finger against her ass, she jerks against me getting tight.

  “I’m going to come.”

  “Do it, Jailbait.” Her cunt squeezes my dick, not letting go as I jet into her, my cum coating her walls until it soaks my boxers at our connection. Kimber throws her body back counting on me to catch her before she falls and I do. Like I always will for the rest of our lives.

  The movements between us still, each of us breathing heavily and staring at one another sitting on the fucking toilet. Kimber rests her forehead against mine.

  “I love you, Kimber Thrower.” First thing I’m making her do on Monday morning is change her awful last name.

  She smiles, “I love you too, Mr. Thrower.” Kimber slips off, leaving me with a sigh as I unravel pieces of toilet paper to give her a quick clean up before standing and redoing my pants. Kimber’s dress settles around her feet and I even take a second to fix the way it floats on the ground, helping her to look exactly as she entered the bathroom. Or close enough.

  “We should start a list,” she says, opening the stall door once I’m zipped up.

  I almost don’t ask, but I’ve always been a curious fuck. “A list of what?”

  “The weird places you’ve fucked me.”

  My balls fill and tighten hearing her swear. I don’t know why it turns me on, but it does. “Make it a big notebook because I plan to fill it up.” Every single page, line, and a blank space.

  “I bet you do,” she says stopping to check her hair in the mirror, but she’s as beautiful as ever.

  The bathroom door opens and Kimber stalls staring at the large mirror, her eyes wide. The man, an older gentleman in his fifties, and I make eye contact and he smiles, giving Kimber a quick once over.

  “No toilet paper in the girl’s room,” I say pulling off a sheet of paper towel from the dispenser and handing it to Kimber’s dry hands so she can pretend to wipe them off.

  The old guy smirks as we walk out of the bathroom, Kimber holding back her giggle and me strutting out with a newfound flair wanting the whole restaurant to know what happened. The pasta might be good, but Kimber’s pussy will taste even better when I get her home and eat my dessert.

  Chapter Eight

  Kimber

  “Can you believe we d
id it?” I probe Vinn again for probably the hundredth time tonight. I just can’t believe we got married.

  Like married married.

  That adult stuff.

  Doing something so mature as getting married made me see how young I actually might be after all. I mean, what happens next? Are we supposed to have kids within the first year?

  I want kids and I definitely want more than one, but when? Is there ever a point too soon? Probably. But on the other hand, once you’ve met the man of your life, the person in your dreams, the one good thing to wake up next to every morning, why wait to get started?

  How long until I can throw all these questions at Vinn and demand answers? These are important ones. He needs to answer these questions. I’ve never worried about a plan before, but now I’ve spent every second thinking of what lies ahead.

  “What are you thinking about?” Vinn asks, rolling over to face me in bed. “You haven’t heard a single thing I’ve said about how marrying you is the best decision I’ve ever made.”

  “Sorry.” He’s so cute when he looks at me with his puppy dog eyes. “I’m thinking of the future.”

  Vinn tweaks my nipple and then covers me back up with the blanket. “Save the future for tomorrow where it belongs. Let’s enjoy right now.”

  I married a wise man.

  Or a procrastinator. I suppose it depends how you look at the situation.

  His fingers flutter down my body under the blanket until he reaches the apex of my mound. “Besides, I said to give me ten minutes, and it’s been fifteen.”

  How does he even have anything left? Rubi once joked that men in their thirties lost their sex drive, but that is not an issue Vinn suffers. At least not now, probably never.

  “I don’t think so.” Rule number one of our marriage is that Vinn doesn’t have to do all the work every time. He should get a surprise now and then as well.

  My legs clamp together and Vinn’s hand falls away while he wears a scowl on his face, but I only smile. He is in no idea what I have planned.

  With a flourish I whip back the covers, exposing us both to the chilly room. It’s going to be a cold Michigan winter this year. Vinn’s dick is already hard, tipped up toward his belly, I stare at it and lick my lips.

  “What are you planning?” he asks, looking a little nervous.

  “I’m hungry.” My head lowers and I take my first taste of his salty silky skin.

  Vinn’s head rolls back, and he lays it on a pillow. “Well then, allow me to fill you up.”

  I don’t waste any more precious time and quickly surround his cock with my lips, licking at him with enthusiasm. He tastes like me, him, and a whole future of us together.

  Vinn’s cock grows, touching the back of my throat, but still l don’t stop. His legs are stiff and he moans before twisting a hand in my hair.

  “Fuck, I love it when you can’t get enough.”

  And he’s right. I’ll never get enough. I could never get enough of him. Especially the two of us together. He’s the only man I want. The only one I need.

  His fingers tighten, pulling strands of my hair, but I refuse to give in. I want this. I need his salty essence to fill me and coat my throat with everything that is Vinn. I want to hold him inside me forever.

  I want his babies in my womb. It may be a stupid wish for someone so young, but it doesn’t make it any less true. He and I together are perfect, and a baby with Vinn would be a constant reminder of our connection. Together we’d make something so perfect.

  “I want you, Vinn.” The words come out slurred, but he jerks in my mouth almost gagging me with how deeply his cock hits my throat.

  “I’m yours, Jailbait.” He tries to pull my head back, but as the cum fills my mouth, I hold firm making sure to lick up every drop and clean him fully. “Always yours,” he says when the last of him is spent.

  When I’m sure nothing has gone to waste, I flop back to my pillow and smile at the ceiling, my eyes closed in excitement about a job well done. There’s nothing better than pleasing your man.

  Vinn’s tongue rolls over a nipple and my legs clench together. “What’s gotten into you?”

  I shrug. “I like you.”

  Vinn snorts, a full sound of agreement. “I like you too, Kimber. Feel free to do that whenever you want.”

  “Any time?”

  “Absolutely. Middle of the day while we’re at home just take off my pants and suck me in the middle of the living room.”

  He’s already lost in fantasy when I roll over on the bed, staring into his eyes and watching the dragon on his neck move with each breath. “I want kids.”

  “Me too,” Vinn says, his attention meeting mine.

  “Right now.”

  He smirks. “I don’t think it works that way, Jailbait. From what I remember it takes at least nine months.”

  Using all my weight I roll him to his back and settle on top of him, twisting until his cock is nestled in my folds. “Let’s get pregnant right now.”

  Vinn shakes his head, his eyes now watching my breasts sway with each of my movements. “You’ve had too much sex. I’ve created a monster.”

  “Don’t you want little Vinns with me?” He’s said he did before. Why would he change his mind now?

  His fingers grab onto my hips and he moves me forward and then back, setting me on a slow pace on top of him. “Of course I do, but right now I want to fuck you as much as possible.”

  “How many kids do you want?”

  “If they’re going to be little Vinns then none. I only want boys who listen to me and don’t get into trouble.”

  I laugh because we both know that will never happen. I’ll take them, trouble and all.

  Vinn’s cock hardens as I move back and forth, but the room lights up around us as his phone goes off with a ding. A blue box signifying a text fills the screen. He looks at the name quickly and then stashes the phone under his pillow.

  “Who was it?”

  “No one for you to worry about. Let’s talk more about these little Vinns,” he says slipping inside me with ease while cupping each breast in an open hand. The text forgotten, I get lost in our rhythmic movements quickly.

  Chapter Nine

  Vinn

  With Christmas almost here and me unable to find anything I should buy for Kimber, my nerves are spiked. What would match the beauty and commitment of the gift she gave by marrying my sorry ass?

  There isn’t anything. Before Kimber I was a punk kid trying to show off to everyone who would look in my direction. Make them believe I was a big shot, but all it did was land me in prison.

  Even after I got out, my life wasn’t together, I lived alone surrounded by a bunch of useless brand-new crap I’d envisioned would somehow turn me into the man I’d always dreamed I could become. It wasn’t until Kimber came into my life that I recognize I needed a bigger purpose.

  I could do all the things that seem so hard to reach. A stable income and a family. I could be a better man than my father. I could give my children the things I never had in life. There was so much pain and hurt in my previous life, but I refuse to let those parts move forward with us. It’s a new beginning for Kimber and me both.

  My phone dings with a text as I screw the oil cap on the car I’ve been working on for the last twenty minutes. No one would notice if I grabbed a quick view of whatever it is Kimber has to tell me. The last two days since my return to work she has taken to sending me little notes throughout the day. Updates on what she was working on or a new outlandish case on Judge Judy.

  There’s never anything of supreme importance, but I always check every one, a little piece of me waiting and worried for the day a text comes through that Ricky is there again. His threats are constantly in the back of my mind.

  One look at my phone and a scowl forms on my face as dread fills my stomach. This time Ricky hasn’t turned up at my house. He’s invaded my phone.

  Ricky: Got a job for you.

  That’s all it says. No more de
tails on what job it is or when, but I know the truth. The holidays are almost here and that means people are preoccupied with family parties. I should be taking my new wife on a wonderful honeymoon, but instead I’m here at work because these times are some of our busiest.

  Businessmen who can’t get time off during the regular working months suddenly realize their cars are ten thousand miles overdue for a change and bring them in between holiday shopping and meals with the relatives. Assholes try and find some way to blame their lack of car maintenance on us. The excuses are fucking endless.

  After the Thanksgiving disaster we won’t be spending any more time with my family for a while and I can let my new responsibilities at the shop be wasted. Whatever plans I have for our honeymoon will have to wait.

  I slip the phone into my pocket, but as the car drives over the grates above my head the weight of his text grows. I don’t know what I want to get Kimber for Christmas, but I know I need it to be big. Grand. Expensive. Everything she deserves. But I have a cash flow problem and I’m too nervous to fix it at the current time. One wrong move would land me back in prison.

  If I get a little more money, I can take care of the problem we’re facing. That’s the problem. It’s always a bit more money, one more job, one more risk, but it’s the truth. A little more money and we’d be set.

  As a new car pulls overhead and gets into position, I send a quick text back to Ricky.

  Vinn: Sure.

  I don’t ask the details as I know he won’t give them, but a small part of me worries it might not be the same job I’ve taken in the past for Ricky. All the expensive cars are put away for the winter. Unless Ricky decided to expand his criminal establishment to things like regular breaking and entering, I can’t possibly figure out what he would need me for in December.

  Ricky: Consider this job a wedding gift even though my invite was lost in the mail. Fucking mailmen.

  A chill seeps up my spine but a horn above the bay honks, signaling it’s time for me to do my job. I can’t waste any more moments wondering about Ricky’s cryptic message, even though it’s the only thing I’ll think about all day.