Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection

by Kat T. Masen

That’s all that matters.

  ***

  “You’re staying here tonight until we sort out some round-the-clock bodyguard tomorrow. Trust me, the couch is comfy. I’ve been banished to sleeping on the couch several times,” Ash reassures her with a smile.

  Alessandra brings out the extra bedding and a set of PJs for Emerson to change into. She says thank you then disappears to the bathroom. Ash calls it a night pulling Alessandra into their room and shutting the door behind them.

  I sit on the sofa and bury my face in my hands. Tonight’s been too much. The panic like I’ve never felt in my entire life, and the anger toward a stranger because he wanted something that’s mine.

  Wait! Fuck. You didn’t just use the word mine.

  I need to sort out this mess with her if I have any hope of playing tomorrow. My mind’s beyond fucked. I haven’t even practiced the field moves in my head, something I always do before a big game.

  The creak of the bathroom door followed by the click of the switch alerts me she’s finished. Shifting my head sideways, her legs are beside me and it’s a sight that does nothing to tame my hunger for her.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Then talk, Logan.”

  “Not here,” I tell her, standing up and walking to my bedroom.

  I switch the light on and wait for her to enter, closing the door behind her. Her eyes wander across the room, from my perfectly made bed to the soccer medals displayed on my shelf. She walks over to the shelf in the pink shirt Alessandra lent her and thick, white socks. With her back to me, I take the opportunity to scan her body, desperate to throw her on my bed and make her mine.

  There’s that damn word again.

  She turns to face me, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. “I hope you have an explanation for why you’ve been a prick.”

  “Do you have one for being a bitch?” I retaliate.

  She shakes her head and follows with a sinister laugh. “Nice. I’m a bitch because I haven’t spoken to you? Two-way street, buddy. You weren’t exactly blowing up my phone with text messages.”

  “You’re marrying him,” I yell, then quickly lower my voice hoping Ash doesn’t hear. “And you’re still fucking him.”

  “I told you I’m not with him. How many times do I need to say it? Believe whatever the hell you want. I was angry in the pub,” she says, frustrated. “What does it matter anyway? We said no strings attached and as far as I’m concerned you fucking that nurse confirms it.”

  “You’re right,” I agree. “We said no strings attached, so none of that should have mattered.”

  With her eyes wide and brows furrowed, I can see she’s hurt about my last comment.

  “You know what?” I say softly. “You sleep here, I like the couch.”

  “No, it’s your bed and you have an important game tomorrow. I don’t want to be the reason you’re tired.”

  I remove my tie and place it on my chair, unbuttoning my shirt and laying it on top. Considering we’ve seen each other naked, I find it amusing she can’t look my way, purposely avoiding where I stand.

  “Look, I’ll let you get changed.” She turns around and faces the shelf, looking at the gold medal that takes pride of place in the middle. “Was this the first premiership you won?”

  “Yes.” I smile, remembering the moment fondly. “I actually cried.”

  “I can imagine. It’s such an achievement, and both of you have worked toward that your whole life. I don’t think I ever remember a day when you haven’t talked about soccer or even kick the ball around. It’s in your blood.”

  Dropping my pants, I hang them over the chair and remove my socks, leaving me only in my black boxer shorts. “You can turn around now.”

  She spins around and keeps her eyes fixed on my face. I can see the struggle because it mirrors mine exactly.

  “I don’t want to sleep in your bed. Logan, this game is important.”

  “I know my body and my limits, it’ll be fine.” I pull the cover back motioning for her to hop in. She does so with reluctance and when she’s settled in the middle, her gaze meets mine and lingers.

  Does she know how sexy she looks in my bed?

  How much I want to climb in beside her and hold her tight, to only let her go so I can watch her body unravel beneath my touch?

  “Goodnight, Emmy.”

  I walk to the door and switch off the light. As I begin closing the door I hear her call my name, making me stop in my tracks. “Sleep in your bed... with me.”

  Letting out a sigh, my body turns around of its own accord. “Emmy, you don’t know what you’re asking,” I whisper in the dark.

  “Yes, I do…” She pauses with a hitched breath. “I’m asking you to stay with me.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  “Maybe it is, Logan. I don’t know anymore. But for now it’s just this. Please stay with me.”

  I know if I climb in that bed—with her—I’m jeopardizing everything I’ve worked hard for, for the past year. And even with that thought weighing heavily on my mind, I close the door behind me and walk straight for my bed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “How do you smile when your heart’s

  falling in love with the wrong man?”

  ~ Emerson Chase

  The bed moves as he climbs in resting his warm body against mine.

  “Logan,” I whisper, desperately trying to ignore his lips which have already found their way to my skin. “You really do need sleep.”

  “I need you more.”

  Four simple words that crush any hope I have of keeping our arrangement platonic.

  I came to London for the show despite Logan living here. What with his mood swings and lack of communication it was clear—we had fun and that fun was over.

  That night with Wes, on the couch, ended in disaster. It started off heated, and just before he slid himself in, I froze and remembered where he’d been and the trail of possible diseases that tagged along with him. It killed the moment and even frightened Wes. It wasn’t just the possibility that he was carrying something nasty, it was also the guilt of being with Logan.

  Wesley doesn’t deserve me as much as I don’t deserve him.

  That’s the cold hard truth.

  From the moment I saw Logan walk into his apartment, I knew everything between us had changed. My heart did something—a pitter-pat, a flurry of madness—signifying something dangerous.

  It’s invested in him.

  It craves attention from only him.

  All the things it shouldn’t be feeling, and tonight’s cemented that.

  I don’t want him looking at anyone else.

  I don’t want him touching anyone else.

  I don’t know how to hide my feelings.

  Lying here with him, his body pressing against mine with his cock rock hard and grinding on my hip means one thing, and I know I don’t have the strength to fight it. I want him buried inside me, thrusting hard and owning every inch of my body.

  “You’re not supposed to have sex before a game,” I remind him.

  “That’s an old wives’ tale.”

  “Somehow I don’t think old wives were screwing soccer players. I’m sure there’s a medical explanation as to why you shouldn’t shoot your load into my vagina.”

  He pauses, withdrawing his kisses and raising his head. “How about I shoot my load into your mouth?”

  I smack his chest, laughing simultaneously but quickly becoming distracted by his hand sliding beneath my shirt, squeezing my breast. “No shooting of your load, anywhere.”

  “Damn.” He nibbles on the sensitive spot of my lobe. “There’s several places I’d love to shoot my load.”

  I’m unable to hide my grin, grateful for the darkness that lays between us. “Like where?”

  I can hear the smile in his voice. The cocky bastard knows he has the upper hand right now.

  “Let’s see…” he keeps his head positioned near the base of my ear, trailing his finger a
long my chest, “… here.”

  Keeping a straight face is hard, holding back the giggles even harder. “Yeah, I guess so. If you like the whole pearl-necklace thing.”

  “Hmm...” He traces my collarbone then switches in the opposite direction, moving south until he stops on my thigh. “How about here?”

  “For a soccer player, you have a shitty sense of direction. Maybe go northwest.”

  His teeth graze on my lobe, biting down with slight pain that pleasures me. The tip of his finger trails north, just like I directed him, then moves west and in between my thighs until it brushes with my clit. Then with a sudden thrust, it enters me causing my back to arch. I hold in the moan, biting down on my lip tasting blood.

  “Sshh,” he commands. “I haven’t finished.”

  I weave my fingers through his hair, bringing his face to mine. “I don’t know what else you could possibly show me. And I just bit my own lip to keep quiet so maybe we need to go to sleep now.”

  His lips crash onto mine, sucking on my lip where I tasted my own blood. My body feels at a loss when he removes his finger from me, bringing it up to make me taste myself on his finger. I suck and a growl erupts from his chest that’s barely contained in this quiet room.

  “So, now I own all of you. I’ve even tasted your blood.”

  “If someone heard that, it could be taken the wrong way.”

  “Because vampires exist?”

  “If they do, I’d sell my left kidney to screw Edward Cullen.”

  He lifts his body, and through the moonlight that barely peeks its way through the drapes, I can see his expressed has changed.

  Does he know how unbelievably sexy he is? Especially when he plays the brooding lover.

  “Why am I jealous of you wanting to screw a fictional vampire?”

  “You tell me.” I run the tip of my tongue along his jaw. “I can’t quite work you out.”

  His hand grips onto my hip, positioning himself with his cock dancing around my entrance. With no words to say, he slides himself in much to my pleasure and waits for his breathing to stabilize. “I can explain many things, Emmy, but right now I’ll say this...” he trails off. The rhythm of his body distracts him, and me, until I press on his chest and catch my breath begging him to finish his sentence. “What is it, Logan? Don’t leave me hanging here.”

  “When I’m not around you, nothing makes sense. When I’m inside you it all makes sense.”

  “But we promised to keep this just fun.”

  “I don’t like other men touching you.”

  “Edward Cullen is not another man.” I attempt to keep light of the situation.

  “Don’t do that,” he notes with dark amusement. “Do you know what happens when you make me jealous?”

  I shake my head.

  “I will punish you.”

  Curiosity gets the better of me. “Like what? Spank me? I wouldn’t mind that.”

  “I won’t make you come.”

  It’s my turn to laugh. “Yeah, right. You know what? That’s just cruel and besides, we’re back to the whole you are the one who’s not supposed to come.” Pushing my hands on his chest, I move him off me and use my body to straddle him. There’s a sense of danger with Ash in the same apartment. Basically, he will literally kill us both if he walks in and sees us together.

  I clear my throat in an effort to keep my voice low and unheard. “I’m making an executive decision here… you can’t come, no shooting of loads anywhere. If you play bad it’ll be on me,” I command. “So, with that decided, I’ll come.”

  He cups the back of my neck and draws me into him. “You’re fucking crazy.”

  “Crazy… maybe.” In a bold move, I lift my legs and raise my clit, positioning it in his mouth. Beneath me he moans, gripping onto my ass tight and sliding his hand around my asshole making me flinch with nerves. I’ve only tried it once, and with that one time, I practically died of pain. It was the worst experience of my life, and I don’t want to revisit anything which results in something going inside my ass.

  He continues to flick his tongue, mixing the movement with gentle sucks. My body moves up and down, using the headboard for support as I ride his mouth on the verge of combusting at any given moment. Keeping quiet is the hardest part, my moans trapped inside, and with nothing to bite but my own lips it only heightened the moment.

  Logan moves his mouth catching his breath. “I want you to relax.”

  What does he mean by that? I’m beyond relaxed. I’m about to come until he stops me.

  His finger moves around my ass, playing with my entrance.

  Oh no. My body tenses, nerves settling at the fear of the unknown.

  “Logan, I—”

  “Relax,” he repeats.

  I breathe in and out, trying to focus on controlling my racing heart. With his spare hand, he brings it to his face, spreading my lips and running his tongue along the inside of my pussy. The sensation begins to build again causing me to rock slowly. I rub my clit along his mouth, lost in how my body is reacting—hair standing on end with goosebumps covering every inch of me.

  I’m almost there, riding him hard until his finger pushes against my ass and slowly slides in stopping immediately.

  My body stills.

  My heart racing like a fucking maniac and all I can think about is Logan’s finger is sitting in my ass. The pain subsides after only a few seconds while he continues to flick my clit, bringing back the pleasure once again.

  I press harder, my body demanding he finish me off. Then, he slides his finger in deeper and stops. The pain, again, stopping my impending orgasm.

  “I’m going to finger this tight ass of yours and you’re going to come now,” he murmurs beneath me.

  I’m terrified. It’ll hurt and I’ll have to offend him and tell him to pull out. Then there’ll be this awkward feeling between us and I’ll feel like a failure for not being an ass girl.

  His tongue circles my clit in the same motion. The more he spreads my lips, the more exposed my pussy is to his mouth. I begin to rock again, laying my palms flat on the wall as he eats me like I’m his last meal on earth.

  The fire in my belly stirs, and when all of my skin ignites and there’s no way to escape from him but to spiral out of control, he slides his finger in and out of my ass in sync with my body.

  I don’t expect the raw pleasure. My body continues on this high from him worshipping me this way. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, making the whole world see that this sexy man beneath me is the only one to have ever made my body react this way. I didn’t want to stop, ever. I want all of him now, and for the rest of my life to take me however he wants.

  I want him to own me.

  I want to own him.

  I need his jealousy to drive him to the brink of insanity and take that out on me however he desires. I want to do all the things my body doesn’t know it craves.

  I want only him.

  My body loses all self-control, collapsing on top of him as I use the little energy I have left to lay beside him. The sound of my heart beating is obnoxiously loud and does nothing to control my breathing.

  “You’re beautiful when you come for me.”

  “How would you know?” I struggle to say. “I practically smothered you to death.”

  He props himself up on his elbow, sweeping my hair away from my face. Lowering his head, he kisses the tip of my nipple causing me to shiver in delight.

  “You’re not helping me right now,” I beg him to stop because I’m greedy and hungry for more.

  “I’m sorry,” he responds playfully. “So, the deal is if I win the game tomorrow, I get to do whatever I want to you?”

  My chest begins to rise and fall, overcome by laughter. “When did I say that?”

  “It was right before you came... something along the lines of you can do anything you want to me.”

  “I don’t recall that.”

  “To be fair…” he says with concern, “… you weren’t held
to ransom. I could have easily stopped.”

  “You’re a pain in the ass.” I grin, messing his hair with my hand to annoy him.

  Why does he have to be so beautiful, grinning back at me like a fool?

  “I’d like to be a pain in your ass. You seem to enjoy it.”

  I pull the sheet to cover my body, despite the hot flashes from our current choice of topic. I shouldn’t be embarrassed to talk about it, and maybe after that small trial run I could be open to more.

  My hands move around the bed, searching for my shirt. I place it on along with my panties that magically disappeared. Despite my reluctance to leave I know he needs his sleep. “I have to go. I don’t want Ash waking up and finding me here. He can’t know about us,” I remind him.

  “I know, Emmy.” He sighs in agreement. “Go to the living room. I probably won’t see you till the day after. If it goes our way tomorrow, we’re out all night celebrating with the club. If it doesn’t go our way... then we’re screwed.”

  “I wish I could come to the game but we have a filming schedule I can’t get out of.”

  “With Wesley...” It’s a statement, not a question.

  “Don’t do this, Logan.” I get out of bed standing beside him. “Focus on your game and not on what either of us can’t control.”

  “We can’t control?” His eyes bore into me, a mixed look of confusion and denial. Sitting up in bed, his back against the headboard, he rests his hands on his lap waiting for me to respond.

  “Our emotions, Logan.”

  There’s silence, something that doesn’t surprise me. Neither of us expected the situation to end up here—in bed discussing any sort of ‘emotions.’

  “Emmy...” he trails off, running his fingers through his messy sex hair, “… I can’t discuss this now.”

  I sigh but keep my posture straight and confident not wanting to show him how much he affects me. “Of course, you can’t,” I tell him with a smile “Go to sleep, Logan. There’s always another time.”

  “Good night.”

  “Good night,” I whisper, closing the door behind me and allowing my heart to feel the pain.

  Wanting more terrifies me.