Bad Boys Under the Mistletoe: A Begging for Bad Boys Collection

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Bad Boys Under the Mistletoe: A Begging for Bad Boys Collection Page 10

by Anthology


  “You already owe me a kiss,” I tell her, cupping her chin in my hand.

  “I owe you more than that,” she says, batting her lashes. I lean down and take her lips with my own. The sounds of the parade are getting closer, but I don’t stop kissing her until we’re surrounded and the music and cheers envelop us.

  She looks up at me with those sweet eyes when I pull away and I know she’s feeling vulnerable and scared, but I’m gonna make everything alright. For her, I’ll make it all up to her.

  “Merry Christmas, my sweet cherry.”

  Epilogue

  Cary Ann

  One year later...

  “You have the biggest smile on your face, Cherry.” I hear his voice from across the bedroom. I blush at Vinny as I sit up in bed and rub the sleep from my eyes.

  “I’m just happy today,” I say easily. I’m so full of warmth and so excited. I love this time of year.

  He crawls on the bed closer to me, balancing a cup of coffee in his hand. Peppermint coffee, my favorite this time of year. Mmm. I reach out and take the hot mug from him, giving him a sweet kiss before taking a sip.

  Coffee is my life source now.

  I work nonstop, but I love it. Being a social worker has made me feel like I’m finally giving back in the way I was always meant to. I feel complete in my career, even more so with Vinny in my life.

  My engagement ring clicks on the ceramic mug and the bright light from the morning sun shining through the windows makes it sparkle. Every time I look down at the ring, I feel whole. I love Vinny more and more with each passing day.

  Ever since that night, we’ve exposed ourselves completely to one another. I never believed in love at first sight, but all those years ago, that feeling in my chest was special after all. It had to have been love for us to fit so perfectly together. I know it.

  We’re gonna start trying to have a baby on New Year's Eve, but the wedding comes first. A Christmas wedding. The thought makes me practically shake with delight.

  I set the mug down on the nightstand as he curls up next to me, pulling my back into his hard chest. My ass nestles into his crotch and I wiggle a little, wanting him to know that I want him.

  I always want him.

  His rough chuckle vibrates up my back, and his soft breath tickles my neck.

  “Careful what you wish for, Cherry,” he warns.

  I bite my lip and roll over in his arms.

  “So what do you want for Christmas?” I ask him. I already know the answer though. He told me he wanted to donate toys to the orphanage, so that’s going to be our tradition every year. And that’s all he wants. Even for our wedding, in lieu of gifts we asked for donations to the orphanage. Especially now that my work deals with a few of the kids there.

  No one ever found out what we did last year. We got away without a single soul knowing, and Morose went to jail for the crimes he committed.

  Sometimes everything just works out perfectly.

  “I already told you,” he says softly before leaning in for a kiss.

  I smile against his lips.

  “All I want is you,” he says again, and it makes me feel so full of love.

  I brush his hair away from his face and say, “I love you, Vinny.”

  I whisper the words, and I mean them with everything in me.

  He kisses me sweetly and says, “I love you too, Cherry.”

  Christmas Fever

  By Bella Love-Wins

  Chapter 1

  Nick

  The relentless wind blows me through the front doors of Oak Country Club and Resort in New Jersey. It’s just one bridge ride west of mid-town Manhattan, but it’s nothing like the big city. I shake the snow from my collar and look around. A decked-out Christmas tree is in the foyer’s corner. Red and gold bows seem to cover every square inch of space. A cheesy rendition of Jingle Bells floats from the speakers to complete the holiday-infused scene. The place is warm, though, which counts for a whole lot right now.

  I roll my carry-on inside and a porter loads it on his luggage cart with my other suitcase. I continue on to the reception desk to check in.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Marshall,” the receptionist says, reading my reservation from her computer screen before I announce myself.

  Her eyebrows raise slightly, as she must somehow recognize my face. She clears her throat and then plasters on a commercial smile before sliding over my room keys. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

  “Thanks,” I smile back. “I will. Which way is the bar?”

  She points me in the right direction and I set off. A five-hour flight from San Francisco plus an almost two-hour ride from JFK, thanks to the heavy snowfall, means I’m seven hours past ready for a drink.

  The bar is small and classy, connected to the larger restaurant. Polished wood embellished every wall, and dark red velvet décor covers the place. I settle down at the mostly empty bar and check my watch. Three hours till my meeting with the contact from Tapped. Lots of time.

  Today, I’m second-guessing my decision to fly all the way into JFK. It’s smarter to take this meeting by phone as I’m due in Miami tomorrow, but a few days ago, my gut told me a face-to-face would be more effective. Still, I’m here now, so I’ll make it work. After this meeting, I’ll be heading to my buddy, Jared, for his annual Christmas blowup. Knowing that in less than twenty-four hours I’ll be sunning it up with a hoard of sexy, underdressed women by my side makes this quick stop bearable. Jared’s bashes never disappoint.

  It will help to kick some ass while I’m here. That involves snagging this account with Tapped, the news outlet which caters to the millennial crowd. The second I heard their board of directors wanted to branch out and start a social networking site, I had to hook them. My new social media back-end architecture is one of the most innovative software configurations I’ve designed in years. This meeting with Gerome Forer, their Chief Technology Officer, should be quick. If he’s smart, he’ll jump on a deal before I walk away and off this technology to the highest bidder.

  I order a brandy, and once it’s in my hand, I settle into one of the high-back chairs at the bar.

  “Double gin and tonic,” says a smooth, confident female voice to my right.

  My gaze moves in the direction of the sound. Two spots away, a woman in her twenties takes a seat and steals all my attention. Sandy blonde hair sweeps the shoulders of a tan button-up. Black dress pants hug the firm, shapely curves of her hips and thighs. She raises a hand and tucks some hair behind her ear, revealing plump lips, long lashes, and big, expressive eyes.

  Just my type.

  I tell the beast in my pants not to get too excited. Good thing my dick has a mind of its own. It springs to life at the greeting, already sniffing out the air to figure out if it has a chance.

  She looks over. Probably because I’m staring, already imagining a few ways to occupy the next few hours before my meeting. She smiles slightly as our eyes meet.

  “Hello.”

  I raise my glass. “Happy holidays.”

  The bartender deposits her drink in front of her. She lifts it from the napkin and mimics my gesture.

  “Same to you.”

  I take a drink while my eyes continue to feast on her from head to toe. “Getting away from the city for a while?”

  “You could say that.” She laughs and crosses her legs. The move is inherently sexual, whether or not she means it to be. Her eyes flit around the bar to the other three people around, not counting the bartender. A middle-aged couple sits at a table, deep in conversation. A well-dressed guy who’s had way too much to drink is at the other end of the bar. His head is on the bar, and one wrong move in any direction can result in him passed out on the floor. “I’m here for the ambiance.”

  “I guess we’re lucky I showed up.” I reach my hand out. “Nick.”

  “Lily Henderson.” She shakes my hand, and I hang on for longer than I normally would.

  She doesn’t pull away. I take it as a good sign,
and as our palms disconnect, I slide over a seat to get closer. Her eyes move down my torso, checking me out. Lily tries to move her gaze before I catch her, but it’s too late.

  My dick pulses against my zipper from the attention. It already knows there’s enough chemistry to make a bold move.

  I rest an elbow on the bar. “I’ll go out on a limb and guess you’re not in the middle of a quiet family getaway.”

  She smiles suggestively. “Nope. I’m here on business. You?”

  “Same. It sounds like you and I should inject a bit of Christmas cheer into all this work.”

  Lily takes a long drink of her cocktail. Her gulp is audible as she looks me over. This time it’s an unrestrained checkout. “Should we?”

  I gesture over to the drunk in a suit. “It beats that alternative.”

  She chokes down a giggle. “Probably.”

  “Definitely.”

  Her hazel eyes sparkle as she appears to consider it.

  I take a final swig of my drink and put enough cash beside the glass to cover our drinks and then some. Getting to my feet, I offer her my palm.

  “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 2

  Lily

  This tall drink of water is Christmas come early, just what I need to distract myself. With jet black hair, deep blue eyes, and a lust-worthy physique, the man at the bar is a welcome distraction from the everyday.

  Right now, I have the kind of thirst born from anxiety. I need something to calm me down. Liquor won’t get the job done.

  The meeting ahead of me tonight is one of the biggest opportunities of my entrepreneurial life. Maybe the greatest. I’m prepared, but as the stakes are so high, I’m wound up and ready to pounce. I need to find some way to keep the excitement in check so I don’t end up seeming too eager. That’s the last thing a company like Tapped would want. They seek out startups that don’t need them. For this meeting with Gerome Forer, I have to at least act like I don’t give a crap whether they work with me or not. That’s going to take guts.

  Luckily, I seem to have found just the thing to strengthen my core—from the inside out.

  “My room?” I ask, throwing it out there as a question, but honestly, that’s the only way I’ll have a one-time thing—in familiar territory, and close to the Ruger LC9s I like to take on my travels.

  Nick doesn’t skip a beat. “Sure.”

  My heart pounds. I’ve picked up a few men in my day, but never this fast. I swallow hard and focus on why I need this. It’s a random hookup with purpose. I’m nervous now, but will have the edge off later. Which is good, because excitement nudges out anxiety. One more turn in the hall and we’ll be in my room.

  I unlock the door, taking my time to step inside the dark, unlit room, made darker with the closed blackout blinds at the window. Nick suddenly grabs me by the waist, making me gasp. He spins me around and slams the door shut behind us.

  His hands move up my waist and over my shoulders before brushing my cheek. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

  The lust in his voice ignites a fire in me. I can’t only rationalize that our impending hookup is all about letting off steam. It’s also driven by real desire.

  Nick presses his soft lips against mine. The touch travels through my mouth and down my body, melting any other hesitation. Two seconds of the kiss and I’m putty in his hands. His lips move down to my throat, kissing and nipping the skin, causing my head to roll back.

  I slip my hands under his suit jacket and tug his shirt out of his pants. His skin is hot, and all these toned, bulky muscles only serve to ramp up my need. He grabs my ass cheeks, and slowly, his hands move to the front of my pants. Gripping the waistband, he lowers the zipper and pushes my pants down past my hips.

  I’m drenched between my legs by the time Nick returns his mouth to my lips. Our tongues hungrily taste and tease each other, driven both by lust and the urgency of the situation. At any second, one of us can come to our senses and realize how reckless we’re being. At any moment, logic can take hold. The idea of stopping before we start makes me crave him more. Wetness drips from me and soaks my panties.

  Nick must read my mind. He grabs at them and pulls them off, leaving me naked below the waist, except for my stiletto pumps—my Louboutin power shoes that somehow makes casual sex seem much more exotic. A warm finger pushes into me. Nick makes a satisfied noise against my mouth. He fumbles at his pants, his belt clinking around. There’s a familiar crinkling and the ripping of a condom wrapper. I’d like to get an idea of what I have to work with before he wraps it up. Unwilling to wait, I reach down and slide my fingers under the waistband of this boxers.

  Nice.

  Long, thick, already pulsing in my hand.

  The image of me getting on my knees and tasting him, comes to the forefront. But a blow job is not on Nick’s agenda right now. Maybe he’s hoping I don’t change my mind. Maybe he knows how badly I need a good fuck right now.

  Nick picks me up off the floor, wrapping my legs around his waist right there at the door. He grabs my ass and lifts me up a bit. I hardly flinch as he slams my back against the wall. Good. A man who isn’t afraid to take control right out the gate. With a smooth thrust of his hips, he enters me just a little. I close my eyes and moan from his thickness parting my throbbing lips, slowly breaching my opening, torturing me inch by inch. Needing something to hold on to, I press my palms against his shoulders. His hands lift me up then, and lowers me down on his cock again.

  Nick’s got me pinned against the wall. I squirm with pained pleasure. The sensation is almost too much to handle as he slides into me all the way, then drives in more quickly. And again. He sinks into me. Every strike bumps me against the wall. My shoulder blades scrape the harsh surface and his nails prick my bare ass, but pleasure builds deep inside me.

  His mouth covers mine again, clashing our teeth together. I needed this so badly that all it takes to get me to the edge is Nick sliding a finger past my asshole as he fucks me hard. My pleasure erupts. My legs quake as the euphoric rush washes over me, stretching on as he continues to bury himself as far as my pulsing womb will allow. I begin to think this orgasm will stretch on forever, and Nick seems to want that too.

  He does what he came here for. Nail me. Make me come. And hopefully, blow his load before I ask him to leave. I press my teeth against his earlobe, just to help him along a bit.

  “I like the way you fuck me,” I moan, and he tenses against me, grunting and gasping for air as he erupts so deep inside of me.

  “Fuck,” he groans low, his breath scraping my neck.

  He slowly sets me back down on the floor. I’m pretty satisfied with myself. The edge is off, my leg muscles ache in a good way, and I even enjoy bending over to find my underwear and pants in the darkness. The only downside is that I keep wondering how much better he’d be if I gave him more time. Can the next orgasm he causes end up driving me out of my head? How good is he at muff diving? What will it feel like to ride him? What about if we try it on a bed next time?

  I remind myself that there’s no place for stupid questions like that. One time is one time. I’ve got a shower to take and a meeting to get to.

  I pull my clothes on and feel for the door, smoothing my shirt as I turn to look at him.

  “Nice meeting you, Nick.”

  “Same here,” Nick rumbles.

  New desire flows through me. If I didn’t have somewhere to be I would probably let him, throw him back on my bed and get the answer to a few questions right now. Opening the door, I let Nick slip out into the quiet hallway.

  “Maybe I’ll catch you after your meeting,” he offers.

  “At the bar?”

  I hear myself answer, and immediately want to kick myself for acknowledging that I want round two. There are no round two’s in one-time fucks. I’m breaking a rule that’s probably written on a bathroom wall somewhere. I came to Oak Resort with a very specific purpose, to lock down a deal. I can’t afford to get distracted. Also, as hot as Nick is, o
ne random hookup is enough. Two would leave me wanting a third.

  Then again…

  “Room two-seventeen,” he tells me. “I should be there by seven.”

  Why not? It’s close to Christmas. My early dinner meeting will be over. The deal will be sealed. I’ll have a reason to celebrate.

  And then I’ll never have to see Nick again.

  Chapter 3

  Nick

  After a quick shower, there are still two hours left till my meeting. I put a fresh suit on and head back to the front of the resort, thinking I’ll kill some time by grabbing a bite to eat.

  Lily clouds my thinking. Specifically, her firm body, easygoing nature, and her tight cunt. Suddenly I’m not so eager to get to Florida and into the bikinis of a stranger or two. Not every random woman is fun to be around. Some can be downright uptight, demanding, and clingy. The way Lily just let me fuck and run makes me want to hang on for a while.

  That time against the wall was just an appetizer.

  Now, I want the five-course meal.

  Already I’m formulating ideas for the evening ahead. I haven’t seen her naked. There’s a whole lot I want to see and do with that body. The image of her nipples sticking up from her round, full breasts as she lies back on my bed causes a groan to rumble up from deep in my chest. I push it down before it becomes audible.

  Soon.

  I’ll take care of this meeting, wrap up one hell of a deal, and will have the rest of the evening to play in Lily’s playground. For now, I focus.

  The resort’s dining room is just as dead as its bar, with only a few occupied tables. The hostess shows me to a little oval one by the back wall. I order a scotch and settle down into the cushioned chair. Reaching for the menu, I look up and freeze.

 

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