by Gabi Moore
I had been trained for this. For these high-cortisol moments where one strange moment seems to stretch out forever. I thought of the blue and yellow mark on Maddy’s face. In that split second, I twisted my body round to position myself between him and her, throwing my weight into my thigh muscles so I could spring up quickly.
There was the entrance I had come through, behind him, likely one in the kitchen and if this was the kind of built-in-the-80s house I thought it could be, there’d be a cheap frosted glass fitting in the bathroom that could be kicked clean out in an emergency. There was a glass ornament to her left that I could wield if necessary, but I had a better chance of taking him directly, since he wasn’t armed and a good few inches shorter than me. Low-ish muscle tone, no tats, civilian dress and no defensive posturing. I could have him pinned to the floor in less than six seconds.
“Who the fuck…?” he started saying, and I realized she was cowering a little behind me.
It was him. No question. The guy that had hit her. I stood up and puffed my chest a little. I didn’t want to let her know it, but I would relish giving this guy an ass-kicking, if he asked for it.
I slowly extended my hand, not taking my eyes off him.
“Zack Hunter. Nice to meet you. And you are?”
I knew all about guys like this. Wiry little shits with attitudes better suited to snappy handbag Pomeranians than grown men. I’d patrolled with some of them, too, and they were all talk and hot air until it came down to actually backing it all up with action. How had such a beautiful woman gotten involved with him?
He smirked at me and peered round my shoulder to glare at her.
“Baby? Are you kidding me? This guy?” he laughed and then lifted his eyebrow at me. “She tell you she already has a boyfriend, shithead?”
I felt Maddy’s little hands rise up and touch the small of my back. I can’t describe it, but that little touch alone, so soft and tentative …well, it broke my heart.
“Zack,” she peeped from behind me, “he’s not my boyfriend. We already broke up. A long time ago.”
“I think you’d better leave,” I said, voice calm.
The air crackled a little as I felt him gathering his courage. Predictably, he lunged forward with flat hands and shoved my shoulders. I barely moved, and simply took a step towards him, clenched fists to my side. I peered at him through narrowed eyes and said slowly, with as much threat as I could squeeze into my voice.
“We can do this if you want, but it will not go well for you…”
It was faint and lightning quick, but I could have spotted it a mile away: that brief, panicked flutter across his face as he realized I meant it. But he was bluffing hard, and stood his ground.
I didn’t need to look to tell that Maddy had already dashed off and was now pinned against the wall, watching us with horror.
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BREAK
A Bad Boy Romance Novel
Preview
The woman in front of me was being fucked within an inch of her life.
Her entire face was flushed red, the color extending far down onto her chest and to her two swollen nipples.
'What do you think – should we let her come?' her tormentor said through strained breath, flashing deep, laughing brown eyes in my direction.
My mind raced. A year ago, I had only seen this man in pixelated images. He had been nothing more than ink on a newspaper for me, and now… now he was sweaty and deep in a yelping woman who seemed to be melting before my very eyes…
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TEMPTATION
A Bad Boy Romance Novel
Preview
By getting fucked in the ass in public, I had shared myself deeply. I was Christ on the cross, who suffered for the sins of my people.
I had been working my cock into a frenzy for the last four days. I know that’s a bit excessive, but I was almost there. If I could only push past the thrill of orgasm long enough to connect with the rest of the cosmos, I knew that I’d be able to achieve what I was looking for.
Nirvana.
Enlightenment.
Satori.
Auto-Masturbatory-Tantric-Bliss.
For sure there was something I was missing... The problem with getting strung out on club drugs and hoping to find ultimate sexual bliss is that you usually don't find what you are looking for ... it finds you.
Enter Stoker - Bad Boy extraordinaire.
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MANHANDLED
A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Novel
Preview
Bruises can be romantic, in their own way…
There were signs of him all over my body.
I looked down at the marks round my upper thigh, like the scattered blue petals of a strange flower. If they had been put there by anything other than his hands, they would have seemed ugly to me.
But they hadn’t. And so they didn’t.
One look at my body and you could tell that he had been there. On me - in me.
But in spite of all the things I knew in that very moment, there was no way in hell I could've predicted what was about to happen.
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BARE HANDS
A Bad Boy Romance Novel
Preview
"I needed an excuse to run away, and he had ‘excuse’ written all over him in big, tattooed letters…“
Penelope Murphy is a naïve, 19-year-old American missionary with a domineering fiancé who thinks her big ideas about volunteering in Africa are just plain stupid. But she’s determined: for six months, she’ll work on a community garden in a rural village in Malawi.
Everything is going to plan until she meets Viktor, a dangerous bad boy with a checkered past who completely destroys her ideas of right and wrong.
In a strange new country, Penelope is soon in over her head. Despite the locals warning her about this lone wolf who lives in a mysterious cabin in the woods he built with his bare hands, Penelope can’t resist. She’s soon drawn to the dark, new world he opens up for her, one sexy step at a time…
Once Penelope’s good girl mask starts slipping ...she finds doesn’t want to put it back on. Viktor and Penny are both running away from something – but can they ever escape one another?
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ABSOLUTION
A Dark Bad Boy Romance Novel
Preview
It was the first and probably the only pink and gold Birkin bag this young stud would ever see.
Not that he could possibly understand just how much money he was actually looking at, but still. I knew. He wasn’t here to look at my shoe collection and I wasn’t here to hear about his sob story working at the pool boy factory or whatever.
We were here to fuck.
If you think you’ve heard this story before – you know, the one where the bored housewife messes around with the plumber or the repairman or the mechanic while her husband is at work – well, what can I say. Parts of my life certainly are predictable. My life, from some angles, looks a hell of a lot like a cheesy daytime soap. But that’s not all it is. You might not believe me yet, but this is a story about love.
No, really. You’ll see...
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