Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection

by Kat T. Masen

  Her nails dig into my back. The slight pain only driving me harder into her, taking her possessively as if she’s only ever belonged to me. The urge to blow teeters so close to the edge that I’m forced to close my eyes and gain control. When I open them up, her blue pools of lust are penetrating me.

  She owns me.

  All of me.

  And I don’t know how to release myself from her spell.

  I pull myself out quickly and flip her over, desperate not to stare into her eyes. Voiding this moment of any emotion aside from lust.

  She rubs her ass against my cock, teasing me relentlessly. “You can turn me around, forget that I exist. But know this…” she pauses catching a breath, “… I’m going to make it my mission to remind you that I’m selfish. I take what I want just like you.”

  With my mind already crazy and not thinking straight, I’m not quite sure I understand until she latches onto my cock and rubs it against her asshole. The wet dripping off her pussy only makes for a perfect entry, and in one quick and sensual move, she guides me in until I’m sitting comfortably in her ass.

  I’m coming undone.

  I could easily fuck her hard until I come, but I want to savor this moment, using my knees to spread her legs wider. The view from above is breathtaking, her ass exposed as I watch my cock glide so effortlessly. My palm is twitching, rubbing her skin up and down until I’ve grabbed what I can and smack my palm against her cheek, creating a loud bang.

  She begs me to hit her harder, and I do so, biting down on my bottom lip as the urge is almost impossible to ignore. I have to stop for a moment and brace myself for the finale.

  I pull out, her moan deepening at the loss of contact. Turning her over, I’m transfixed by the way her body reacts to me. Her skin red raw from where I’ve been, the dirty smile that plays on her lips while she waits for me to enter her again.

  I stand tall, kneeling above her as she lies innocently beneath me. My hand moves to my shaft, latching on as I stroke myself, refusing to break eye contact with her. The way her body reacts is such a beautiful sight, her nipples erect underneath her lacy bra and her chest rising and falling to the beat of my strokes. The moans escaping her sweet little mouth beg me to enter her again, but this time, I want it all.

  I push her thighs down, spreading her legs wide open as I find her ass once again. She doesn’t stop me—encouraging me to bury myself deep inside her. The tip of my cock settles at her entrance, the impatient side of me not slowing down, entering her rather fast. She groans with her muscles visibly flexing. Her neck is exposed, ready for me to run my tongue along her skin.

  She’s at my complete mercy, my body thrusting deep in sync with her moans. I can smell her pussy—she’s completely soaked. And every time my body makes contact against her clit, the sounds of her wet arousal echoes between us.

  Fuck, I seriously need two dicks.

  I slide my fingers between us, desperate to taste her sweetness while my cock sits comfortably in her ass. Rubbing her clit in a circular motion, she begs me to finger her, pre-empting my next move. I know she’s turned on, and her threshold sits higher than most women I’ve been with. My fingers glide down to find her entrance, sliding inside her in one quick move.

  She warns me that she can’t hold off. And as her warm pussy envelops my fingers, I remove them and raise them to my mouth, tasting her wet cum.

  She tastes so damn sweet.

  Reaching over the headboard, she latches on and raises her hips to allow me to enter her deeper. I finger her pussy again, entering a fourth finger to enhance her pleasure. In and out, her eyes pleading with me to fuck her deeper, and with her pussy soaking wet, I remove my fingers and drag them up to her mouth forcing her to taste her own juice.

  “This is what your body does when I’m fucking you,” I tell her, shoving my fingers further into her mouth and watching her wide eyes tear up in desperation.

  I pull them out, her gasp following shortly after.

  She moves her hand down and grazes her clit. “Ready when you are.”

  Spreading her ass again, I watch my cock slide in and out at a slow pace, savoring the way her tight little hole runs against my heated skin. The fire in my belly begins to rise, my legs wobbling in unison. I pick up the pace slightly, diverting my attention to her soaked fingers rubbing her pussy in a wild frenzy.

  Seconds later, she releases a loud moan, biting her lip as her face turns completely red. Around my cock, her asshole twitches and her orgasm has me undone. The fire has risen and my body spirals out of control, every inch in a euphoric state as I hold my breath and feel my cum explode into her ass. Unwillingly, my whole body jerks forward, collapsing on top of hers.

  Our chests beat against each other, our breathing uneven as we both gulp for air.

  We remain silent, and I continue to stay inside her, never wanting to remove myself. And then, I demand what I should have all along. “I’m not going to share you despite what your circumstances are. I’m selfish, too. Leave him now,” I demand, almost threatening her.

  “It’s not so black and white, Noah.” She wiggles her body but I lay my weight on her, refusing for her to break free.

  “It’s either them or me.”

  “You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

  “Yes,” I state, confidently.

  “You don’t understand, Noah. You don’t have a child. I can’t give up on him.”

  The fire in my eyes mirrors hers. The fury returning in just one breath that I cannot reason with her. “He’s not your kid.”

  “No, he’s not. But I’ve been in his life since the day he was born. He’s not like all the other kids. I tried to explain that to you but you won’t listen.”

  “Because it sounds like an excuse. Every kid is going to put on a guilt trip if their family is breaking up. You just don’t want to move on,” I tell her, the enmity driving me further and possibly to the point of no return. “And why the fuck would you need to sleep in the same bed as your husband, huh? I bet you still fuck him or at least let him get you off.”

  “Fuck you,” she almost spits. “You have no idea the sacrifices I’ve made for Michael. And I’d do it all over again because he deserves no less. I didn’t ask for a special needs stepson, but I got one and wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  “Well, change it. Like I said, it’s them or me,” I demand hastily.

  “You fucking prick, get off me,” she yells, pushing my chest forward.

  She belongs to me and only me, and like a possessed man in love, I remove myself from her ass, rock hard again, and without warning enter her pussy. Something I probably shouldn’t do, but I don’t give a goddamn fuck. I grab her arms, controlling her desperate need to push me away, using my hips to fuck her this time because the jealousy is driving me to the brink of insanity.

  Underneath me, she swears at me to get off her but I ignore her threats. Her body is telling a different story. Her nipples erect under my touch, her teeth clenching each time my cock goes in deeper. Shaking her head back and forth, I want her to shut the fuck up because she belongs to me and no one else.

  “You’re a fucking asshole!” she screams in between her moans.

  My hand moves toward her mouth, covering it while I take what’s mine. And with just one surge, I’ve come undone, again.

  My heart beats erratically, my vision slightly impaired as I try to gain control. My cock is so sensitive, the walls of her pussy clenching and making me jump slightly. I open my eyes and see her stare back at me full of rage. She pushes me again, and this time I pull myself off and collapse on the bed beside her. She’s quick to move away, grabbing her dress and covering her chest.

  “Fuck you,” she shouts. “You don’t just cum inside me thinking you own me.”

  I’m too tired to fight her, continuing to lie there and stare at the ceiling. But something inside my exhausted brain tells me it’s not over yet. “Oh, that’s right,” I say. “Only your husband can do that.”

&n
bsp; The steam is shooting out of her ears as she races to get her clothes on, throwing her dress over her head in one swift motion. “And to think I was going to tell you that I love you,” she sputters, momentarily beyond words. “I should save the words for someone who actually gives a fuck. Someone who loves me back.”

  And with her words said loud and clear, she leaves the room, abandoning me with only my thoughts.

  Love.

  The four letter word that’s ruined my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Misery really does love company.

  It’s been two weeks since the day Morgan walked out on me. I know I’ve been a prick toward her, but I refuse to conform to someone she wants me to be. A man willing to share her.

  Haden and Presley offered to take over the account, sympathetic to my personal issues. I never wanted my personal life to screw with my work life, and so I continue doing what I need to do and communicate with Scarlett rather than Morgan.

  Scarlett’s great to talk to, and although she has an extremely hectic schedule, she finds time to chat without bringing up the subject of her sister. “You would totally love it out here,” she tells me over the phone one afternoon. “Desert heat and girls dancing in teeny tiny bikinis.”

  “Another stripper movie?” I tease while typing an important email to a client.

  “Of course, you’d say that.” She laughs. “This is a romantic comedy, something different for me. My main lead is new to Hollywood and they’re really trying to push the chemistry between us.”

  “C’mon.” I smile through my words. “You’re telling me that’s forced? You can charm anyone.”

  “He has a small dick,” she blurts out.

  I stop typing my email. “And you know that because…”

  “Because he’s wearing white trunks and it’s obvious. I keep telling his publicist that it’ll really hinder his career if nude pictures leak out.”

  “Not to delve too much into the semantics, but perhaps it’s cold. Unless you have him pinned to a bed and stand in front of him naked, you’ll never really know.”

  “I guess it’s best that we leave it a mystery then. I’m not really a pin-a-guy-to-a-bed type of girl.”

  With my pen tapping against the glass desk, I fight the urge to continue this topic. I’m not in the mood anyway. Or at least that’s the lie I spin to myself. The both of us avoid talking about what happened that night and how we almost hooked up.

  “So what are your plans this weekend aside from Haden and Presley overloading you with edits?” I ask, quickly swaying the topic.

  There’s a moment of silence, followed by some voices in the background. She must be placing her hand on the receiver as I’m unable to translate the muffled sounds into words.

  “I... uh... family stuff. A birthday,” she follows in a hushed tone.

  “Oh... who?” Immediately, I regret asking the question, knowing all too well I won’t like the answer

  “Michael.”

  I struggle to fight off the jealousy. Gritting down and holding back my words because they aren’t aimed at Scarlett. It looks like everyone will be playing happy families this weekend while I get drunk and drown my sorrows in some random pussy.

  With my mood rapidly declining, I tell Scarlett that I need to go and finish some work. As soon as I hang up the call, I rest my head on the back of my chair and stare at the ceiling—my favorite pastime of late.

  I honestly believed that as time went on, I would forget all about her. That some other woman would pique my interest and I would move on effortlessly. I didn’t expect feeling sick every morning when I woke up and didn’t anticipate the constant depressive state that came with that feeling. Like my whole world revolved around her and nothing I did or said would make it go away.

  And sometimes, I rejoice in a moment of feeling like my old self. Yet, it’s always short-lived. Something or someone reminds me of her and I’m brought back to reality faster than you can say the word, broken.

  I put on a brave face, never allowing anyone to see how much it affects me. Haden and Presley treat me like I’m dying, forever fussing over me and inviting me over to forget about everything. When I tell them I’m fine, they don’t believe me and give me a mountain of work to keep my mind busy. Long hours in the office help ease my troubled mind until the night sets in and I’m all alone again.

  Charlie’s exactly the same. Forcing me on numerous outings and adventures with the girls to clear my head. Lex never says much, aside from understanding how I feel having been through a separation from Charlie for seven years. He warned Charlie to take it easy on me and to stop treating me like a broken baby bird.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Kate’s Kate. Still around doing her own thing, and much like me, barely staying afloat in this game called life. She’s busy and back in New York City. We’ve chatted a couple of times, but neither one of us is in the best of moods which dampens our conversation every time.

  Late Friday afternoon, I decide I need to get away. And the only place I want to go is home. Back to my old roots. I miss Mom a lot, and the second I walk into her house she knows I’m ready to talk.

  “Oh, kid.” She places her arms around me and hugs me tight.

  “I’m okay, Mom.”

  “You look like shit, Noah,” she says without holding back.

  “Geez, thanks.” I throw my bag toward the corner of the room and head to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I stand in front of it for minutes contemplating what to eat.

  Somewhere in my self-absorbed bubble, I’ve failed to notice the moving boxes scattered around the room.

  I grab an apple, taking a bite. “Am I missing something?”

  “Sit down,” she tells me. “I’m glad you’re here, so we can talk in person.”

  Pulling out a stool, I sit with my elbows resting on the countertop while I wait for her to explain.

  “I’m moving to California.”

  “Come again?” I ask, confused.

  “Max and I—”

  I stand up, eyes wide in shock as I almost choke on my apple. Pacing the room in confusion, my anger quickly erupts. “Max, as in Morgan’s dad Max?”

  “Yes, we kind of started a relationship.”

  I stop just short of the counter, watching as Mom leans with her back against the countertop. In my entire life, she only ever brought one man home—Josh. A divorcee who owns a hardware store in town. I was nineteen at the time and they dated for almost a year. I liked the guy, he had my approval, but they ended up parting ways because Mom said the spark was no longer there.

  I had no idea what a spark meant nor did I care to ask. It’s difficult for me to remember that she’s still young and that most of her life was dedicated to raising me and not living her life like most teenagers or young adults should. And when you see her, you can tell she still looks youthful and nothing like me. She would always tell me I looked just like my dad. It was something she struggled with as I grew older. Her memories of him aren’t fond, but like anything, she made sure I wasn’t affected by his absence.

  “But Max is old,” I blurt out, not thinking clearly.

  “I’m old.” She laughs. “I know it’s a change, Noah, but you have your life and I’m forty-four. I need this change.”

  “And Max is fifty-two. Isn’t that illegal or something?”

  She grins, walking over to where I stand and pats my hand softly. “He treats me good, Noah.”

  I let out a sigh. “He’s a good guy. But don’t you think it’s a big deal moving across the country for somebody you’ve known for like five minutes?”

  “Yes, I’m scared but excited. Sometimes, when it comes to love, you take risks. Even if there’s a chance your heart will get broken.”

  “Love?” I almost yell.

  She never said anything about being in love with him. I thought they were just screwing around. Even then, that thought sends me into a blinding rage. Argh, I can’t win either way. Karma reall
y has her foot in my ass right now.

  “I also got that job so if things don’t work out, I still can stand on my own.”

  I sit quietly and process her news. No matter which way I turn, Morgan will be in my life. Mom and Max dating will no doubt make it difficult to avoid her. There’s no escaping her.

  “Mom.” I keep my voice low. “What do you know about autism?”

  She pulls a bottle of bourbon out of her kitchen cupboard, pouring us a glass. We clink our glasses together then let out a rasp at the same time. It’s something we occasionally did when life kicks our butts.

  “My friend Sandra has an autistic son. I don’t see her that often anymore but when he was younger we used to meet for lunch. He was high functioning, it meant that he could do what most kids could do but had challenges in certain areas.”

  “Like?” I ask, feeding off her knowledge.

  “He was a whiz at the computer. Really smart and somewhat obsessed with being on it. When Sandra got a new job, he couldn’t cope with the change. Her being gone at night. It was difficult for them because she needed the money.”

  “I don’t understand why she just wouldn’t stick it out? A kid is a kid. Of course, they’ll complain.”

  “It’s not the same,” Mom informs me. “He had difficulties communicating and it resulted in a very tough time for her family. Noah, maybe you should spend some time researching this. I may not be the best person to ask.”

  I don’t answer her. It stresses me out to even think about it. Morgan doesn’t come alone, she comes with a husband and a son who has special needs. It’s too complicated. I want to go back to my old life when I didn’t worry about anyone else but myself. Before I fell in love with her.

  “Mom, there’s something I need to do.”

  I stand up and grab my wallet and keys. I move to where she’s sitting and kiss the top of her head. I hate to admit it, but I’m glad she’s moving to the West Coast.