“You know I am, Jake.”
“You can’t even deny it, can you?”
Something about his eyes makes me cower. “No.” I can barely utter the whisper.
“So what am I supposed to do about this, Jenna? You waltz into my office looking hotter than fuck, and I can’t focus on anything except how to get you on your back so I can screw the shit out of that hot pussy.”
The intense heat starts with my face, and it spreads throughout my entire body in seconds. I can’t breathe. And I’m wet…dripping for him. Every disgusting word that he utters makes me want him inside of me.
Words refuse to form.
“I’m going to tell you what happens next, Jenna.” Jake circles me like I’m his prey then stops behind me. His voice sends chills throughout my entire body, erasing any rational thoughts. I am hypnotized by this man - by his voice, by his eyes, by his body. He leans toward me, his hot breath against the skin of my neck. “I’m going to give you what you want, what you’ve been asking for since Friday night.”
All of a sudden, he spins me around so we’re face to face. My eyes can’t possibly get any wider. My breathing is ragged. God, I want him. I shouldn’t, but I do. I should slap him across the face for saying these things to me.
But he wants me…and I love that. He’s giving me what I want, what I crave.
“Tell me you want me, too.” His fingers press into my waist, gingerly trailing over my hips. “If you didn’t want this, you’d have already left. Am I right?”
I stand frozen to the spot. A slight nod. My chest tightens.
“What are you waiting for? I want to hear how much you want me, Jenna. So I can fill you with my hard cock and make you scream. I know you. You want to be treated like the dirty whore you are. You want me to get hard thinking about shoving my cock into your tight wet pussy. You’re driving me crazy.” His hands skate over my hips and down my thighs. The hairs on my neck stand at attention as his strong hands lift the hem of my skirt. “Say it, Jenna. Don’t tease me.”
“I want you.” This whisper is so faint, but loud enough for Jake.
“And tell me this pussy is mine, that you promise to come back to me every chance you get to let me fuck it. Nobody else gets to touch, only me. Tell me that’s what you want, that you want to be with me, Jenna. Because I fucking need to hear it.”
“I do. I want to be with you.” I am so sick and twisted, maybe not as much as he is, but somehow that makes us two peas in a pod.
“I mean it. Nobody takes this,” he growls, palming my pussy with his hand. His hands slide under the fabric, caressing my skin. When they graze my slit, I let out a soft mewl. “It’s mine. You’re mine.” He pushes three fingers into my pussy, his thumb flicking my clit at the same time. I thrust against his hand, panting with need.
“But Jake, what if—?”
“Don’t.” He fists my hair, his lips brushing against my ear. “We’ll make it work because I need you.”
Glee practically oozes from my pores, and I want to sing out like the crazy person I am. Jake Michaels wants to be with me. Wait… “Does this mean I’m your…?”
He silences the thought with his hot, hungry mouth. His tongue coils around mine, devouring every drop he can suck out of me. But I want more, now. I’m a greedy little slut, and he knows it. My question dissipates as the lust takes control.
With a mischievous smirk, he pushes me down to the couch and pulls off my skirt and my panties. Then his devious fingers slide my shirt over my head and unhook my bra. A delicious chill skitters over my body, and I bite my upper lip as he strips himself out of his clothing.
The office door is unlocked. Security is running rampant, now that the threat of hackers is real. These walls sure as hell aren’t soundproof. But I don’t care about any of it. I want his perfect, pink cock to rocket me into orbit. Tonight and every night.
He pulls out a condom and rolls it on. I grab my breasts, kneading them and moaning as I watch, my mouth watering. “Fuck me, Jake. Fuck me like the dirty whore I am. The one you want me to be.” I smile as he lets out a low groan and pushes into me, thrusting hard, fast, and deep, in search of the sensitive bundle of nerves that’ll keep me singing for hours.
His hands are on my ass, squeezing as his cock throbs inside of me. I feel the rush of wetness drizzling out of me as he drives deeper and deeper. His dick stretches me wide, rubbing against my clit as he pounds me hard. I grip the sides of his torso, pressing my fingers into his flesh. My thighs close around him as I clench my pussy tight, sucking him deeper, keeping him buried inside me.
He grips my legs, lifting them so he can drive deeper. I can’t breathe. Tremors shoot through my body. The tips of my fingers and toes are deliciously numb as the orgasm zaps every cell in my body.
“Tell me this is mine, Jenna,” he groans as he erupts inside me. I feel the warmth deep in my pussy as he claims what’s his.
“It’s yours, Jake. Always yours.” Dammit. I had to get sappy…
Chapter Fifteen
JAKE
Our bodies lay tangled together on the leather couch, and I can feel her shift next to me. She takes a breath and then…silence. I know what she wants, but I want her to ask again.
“What were you going to say, Jenna?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“If you wanted to answer the question, you’d have already done it.” She rolls away from me, and I immediately feel the distance. I don’t like it.
“Why don’t you ask it again?”
She lets out a deep sigh. “Does this mean I’m your girlfriend?”
“Is that what you want to be?” I pull her back and roll her on top of me so I can stare into her expressive eyes when she answers.
She nibbles her cuticle, studying me with a questioning gaze. “Yeah,” she whispers, a half-smile lighting up her face. “But is it what you want?”
I place my hands on the side of her face. “Yes. It is. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to say that, but I do. I want you, Jenna.” She lowers her head and my lips graze hers, parting them with my tongue, deepening the kiss to seal the deal.
I don’t want to move from this couch…ever. Food, drink, air…all afterthoughts. She’s what I need to survive, this is what I need.
Taking what I want, when I want it.
Controlling every aspect of my life because I can.
Asserting my power over everyone who crosses paths with me because they need to know who they’re dealing with.
Yeah, I’m still fucking broken, but Jenna’s golden pussy wrapped tightly around my cock puts me on the mend.
Finally.
THE END
JUST LUST:
An Enemies to Lovers Forbidden Romance
* * *
Framed, humiliated, and convicted of a crime he didn't commit, Jeff Torres is finally out of prison and ready to unleash his revenge on the one who stripped him of his livelihood.
But his plans are foiled when he meets Ariana Carlson, a top Hollywood publicist who has him questioning everything he thought he wanted.
As Jeff begins to crave Ariana more than his payback, will the publicist's true motives take their love to the next level or send the ex-con back to jail?
Just Lust © 2018 by Kristen Luciani
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in this novel are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or used in any manner whatsoever, via the Internet, electronic, or print, without the express written permission of the author, ex
cept for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For more information, or information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact Kristen Luciani at [email protected]
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Chapter One
JEFF
Five fucking years down the drain, and for what? To win a pissing contest against the schmuck who got my ass terminated and destroyed my life?
I take one final deep breath to blunt the feelings of rage that always bubble to the surface whenever I think about that bastard. The prison alarm blares, making my ears ring for what I sure as hell hope will be the last time. The automatic metal door creaks open, and I step into the warm late afternoon sunshine, finally seconds away from freedom.
All I need to do is walk through those tall iron gates, the ones wrapped in barbed, electrified wire. There were always stories floating around about inmates who felt the need to test out the silent threat but ended up roasting themselves. Same idiots who weren’t smart enough not to get caught. Five years was a damn long time, but not enough of a sentence that would make me risk deep-frying my balls. And yeah, even though I got out early on good behavior, I was one of those idiots. I did get caught.
Gone is the bright orange jumpsuit. I look normal, even though I feel anything but. The Nevada desert air is dry, stagnant, and still. In any other situation, it’d be thick enough to choke me, but being on the other side - the free side? - is so fucking sweet. I adjust my belt, several notches too big. Being in lockdown takes more than a few inches off the waistline, mainly due to grueling daily workouts, food that was best described as maggot meal, lamenting, and plotting…mostly plotting.
The alarm sounds again, shattering the blissful silence, and the large gates swing open, allowing me access to the outside world. So many thoughts run through my mind about what went wrong that fateful night. Almost everything was within my control, but I overlooked a single detail, and it was a fucking major one. I lost my focus. Didn’t see the signs. Walked right into the goddamned trap.
So, now, there’s a score to settle. A big one.
I turn and look back at the dark gray concrete building known as San Pedro State Penitentiary, my home from the last five years.
No fucking way will I be back there again. Ever.
Idiots have nothing to lose. I have everything to gain.
My partner Remo is waiting for me at the exit in a beat-up, navy blue Honda Accord. The car is as non-descript as they come. Remo on the other hand? He towers over me, over most people, at almost seven feet tall. Dark hair, dark skin, menacing eyes. He looks like a badass motherfucker, but he’s one of the best guys I know. Huge heart in a very unexpected package. I peer through the window of his car, furrowing my brow at the paper bags scattered on the backseat. He also has an unhealthy obsession with saturated fat. Remo gives a half-shrug as I open the passenger side door. “I’m trying to run it into the ground before I buy something new.”
“Better to have a getaway car like this than the pimped-out Hummer that Rand drives.” I yank the door handle and pull it open, sinking into the bucket seat. The stale stench of fast food immediately assaults my nose. “Jesus, Remo. This shit’ll kill you,” I say, kicking at the bags surrounding my feet.
“It’s how I fuel up. You know that. I think best loaded up on grease and salt.”
“Yeah, well, it’s too bad I made you skip dinner the night I got pinched. Maybe things might’ve gone differently.”
“And now you’ve paid the price. I bet you’ll never make me skip another meal again.” He puts the key in the ignition and the car coughs its way to life. “How was the clink?”
A loaded question. To say it’s full of interesting characters is a gross understatement. The shadiest ones had their own personal lines to the outside, and with a little bit of cash, you can get a lot of shit from them. But I didn’t care about things like porn, smokes, or booze. I wanted information, which was harder, and more expensive, to get. But like minds always came together, and I used my steady stream of cash to get me exactly what I needed to concoct a plan - the plan - that will make me whole again. “Not horrible. Gave me time to clear my head.”
Remo sticks his hand in a grease-stained bag on the console and digs around, producing a fistful of soggy French fries. “Want some? Looks like you can use some food.”
I stare at his hand and then at him. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“Not good enough for ya, huh? Even after five years of choking down that horseshit they’ve been shoveling onto your plate?”
I snicker. “I am starving. How about a beer? And I’m talking about a cold one, not one you pull from some magical hiding place in this shit heap.”
“Is that the way you talk to the only guy who’d pick your ass up in Nevada and drive you all the way back to LA?” Remo shakes his head and pulls the clunker onto the freeway heading south. “Jesus Christ, in about twenty minutes, I’ll be an accomplice to your parole violation. Not to mention I’m the only one who has the inside scoop about where the star of our upcoming show is gonna be later tonight. And guess what? A Grammy ain’t the only thing she’ll be wrapping her hands around and squeezing.”
Chapter Two
ARIANA
“We’re getting married!”
Even though my head is blissfully thick with cobwebs, courtesy of the gallon of champagne I’ve already consumed, those three words reverberate between my ears like clanging symbols. I can’t drown them out, and believe me, I’ve tried. For hours.
Pulsating beats vibrate the lacquered floor beneath my stilettos as I make a futile attempt to dance away the hollow feeling in my heart. A stream of perspiration drizzles down the back of my neck, making me cringe. I’m alone…alone in the most frivolous and artificial world I can imagine. Hollywood. La La Land. Tinseltown. Call it what you want. It’s still a big ass bubble of superficiality.
I’m jaded. At twenty-eight. Of course, out here, that’s pretty damned ancient, not that I have any delusions about a career in acting or modeling. Nope, I don’t have any aspirations to be one of those diva bitches. My goal is simple. Keep said bitches out of the media. Note, I said nothing about keeping them out of trouble. My very expensive services only cover so much. I’m not their babysitter.
I’m a publicist.
A swift hip check jolts me from my scattered thoughts. “Hey! You’re dry.” My assistant Layna points to the empty crystal flute in my hand.
“It’s not doing any good. I think I’ve drunk myself sober.”
Layna snickers. “Good! Grammy after-parties always equate to paparazzi poison for our clients, so it’s probably better if you’re sober. I sure as hell hope you’re ready to do some serious damage control.”
I let out a deep sigh. “Aren’t I always?”
Layna’s smile fades. “You’re still upset, aren’t you?” It was a question, but the tone of her voice made it sound more like a statement. She’d never understand, not that I’d ever bothered to explain the deep-rooted feelings I didn’t even want to acknowledge to myself.
“It’s just a little fast, that’s all. Can you blame me for being apprehensive?”
“I get it. I just think you need to let things go. She’s not you, Ari.”
No, she definitely isn’t.
I manage a weak smile and wave my glass at Layna. “Maybe it is time for another drink.”
“As long as you promise me that you won’t be dragging me into the office at three o’clock in the morning to handle disaster recovery for our leading ladies.”
“That’s part of the job, love. You signed up for that shit day one.” I link my arm through hers and push through the throng of sweaty bodies grinding to the deafening music. Groping hands slither over my hips and ass as we move, one even having the audacity to pinch. I spin around, narrowing my eyes at the leering dumbass. Pretty boy. Fucking stupid as hell, though. I grit my teeth. It’s bad enough my clients cause tsunamis with their less-than-aboveboard antics, I don’t need my good
name spiraling down after them. I have to be careful. Social media can crush me if I make a single wrong move. And I can’t afford to have that kind of negative attention on me right now.
Still…I don’t have patience for this crap.
I lean toward his tall, built frame, my lips curling into a saccharin sweet smile. “Did you need something?”
He grins, swaying toward me. “Just a dance. Then maybe a fuck.”
I squeeze Layna’s hand and avert my eyes in an attempt to look demure before I knock him on his cocky ass. “I’m pretty sure that a guy who looks like you can get a girl to drop her panties without having to manhandle her.” I flutter my eyelashes and move in for the kill. “But I can’t say she’d be too eager to screw you once she finds out your dick’s the size of a peanut. Because really, if it weren’t, wouldn’t you be waiting for me to come to you?” I wink. “Try not to overcompensate too much. In this town, you need an air of mystery. Especially with a small penis.”
I don’t use brute force unless I absolutely have to. I’m better with words. It’s why I get away with charging such exorbitant retainers to preserve livelihoods.
Despite everything polluting my mind, tonight is a good night. One of my clients walked away with the Grammy for Best Female Pop Vocalist, so it’s celebration time for a job well done, all around.
The bar is packed. We stand around, pressed together like a bunch of slimy sardines in a can, since the air in the club is drenched with humidity. A whiff of Prada cologne floats under my nose and I stifle an inward groan.
Dirty, Dark, & Dangerous: A Contemporary Romance Boxset Page 31