“Oh?”
I smile and stroke his forearm. “I've got Touches you haven't even imagined yet, and tomorrow morning, I'm using them all on you.”
Jackson laughs softly and kisses my neck. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter 32
Jackson
I wake up to the sensation of gentle Touches on my forearms, and I smile, even as I keep my eyes closed. “When you said you wanted to give it back to me, I didn't think you were going to be so quick with it.”
“After as amazing as last night was? I could barely wait, and you should be glad that you physically wore me out,” Katrina throatily purrs in my ear. “Or else you wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all.”
I feel her trace along my jaw, and my eyes open, my cock surging as fresh desire fills my body. Katrina... my wife, I think with amazement, is kneeling next to me, her body gloriously naked. I smile at the sight, her nipples already hard. “You know you don't need to Touch me to arouse me. A simple kiss and a smile from you is all I need.”
Katrina smiles, and trails a finger down my left side between two of my ribs, electricity shooting throughout my body, concentrating in my cock, which is harder than it’s ever been.
I pull her down on top of me, finding her throat and kissing the soft skin. Katrina's groaning from my hands running up and down her back, stroking her skin with tenderness. I kiss down to her collarbone and lift her body up until I can suck on her nipples. They're small, rock-hard treasures that I want to feast on forever, it's so wonderful to hear the sounds she makes as I lick around the edge of her left nipple. I roll her and me together, and kiss my way down her body to her pussy, teasing apart the light covering of dark hair that dusts her labia. “Oh Jackson, I've fantasized of this.”
“Then let me fulfill our dreams,” I say, dipping my tongue between her lips and tasting the sweetness that lies within. I lick slowly, savoring each inch and listening to the beautiful sounds she makes as I explore her nerve endings with my tongue. “Delicious.”
She sighs happily as I lick again, dipping deep inside her and finding the tangy center, scooping out the wetness inside and feasting on it before licking again all the way to the top, where I find the precious shiny jewel nested at the top and just barely caressing it with the tip of my tongue. Her hips lift off the bed like I've just galvanized her entire body.
“Jackson... please,” Katrina groans deeply as she wraps her fingers in my hair. “Don't stop.”
I don't answer and instead lick, letting my tongue dance around her clit and exploring every nook and fold. I make love to my wife with my lips, tongue and a little bit of my teeth, showing her just how much I love her and will for the rest of my life. I'd die for Katrina... but even more importantly, I'm going to live for her, and make myself into a man that can be her partner as well as her husband and lover.
I pour myself into my licks and oral caresses, my tongue moving faster and lighter, flicking over the precious nub of her clit. Katrina's moaning, grinding her pussy up into my mouth, losing control until with a harsh, ecstatic scream, she comes, covering my face in her juices and clamping her thighs around my head, her muscles unable to relax as she squeezes, cutting off all sound except the sound of my own heart and the sound of her cries from her own body.
Katrina's legs relax, and her hips slowly fall back to the mattress, a long, shuddering breath escaping from her lips. I crawl up from between her legs and rest my left hand on the middle of her chest, looking into her eyes. “I love you, Katrina.”
“I love you, my amazing Jackson,” she answers, putting her hand over mine. She shifts her hips, then chuckles, feeling the head of my cock bump against her hips. “I may have created a monster.”
I nod and raise an eyebrow. “Are you ready?”
She bites her lip and nods, her breath catching as I reach down with my right hand and slip the head of my cock in between her lips. I slide in slowly, knowing she's sensitive and tender, and besides, I want to savor this feeling. I want to savor it forever.
“Are you sure you don't need some ice?”
I chuckle and look down at my cock, which while limp is still slightly sore and aching after one hell of a time.
“No, I’m fine. Actually, I was thinking in a little bit that I'd like to put on some clothes.”
“You don't have any, other than those jeans,” she notes, coming over with a glass of juice. Katrina's gotten at least slightly dressed, a pair of boy-short panties and one of her ever-present sports bras. “Oh, and two t-shirts. Just what were you thinking not packing anything?”
“I didn't care about anything else at the moment,” I tell her, taking the juice and sipping gratefully. “I knew that I could make it without the money. Besides, I'm free now, which is better than all the designer clothing in the world.”
“Well, tomorrow then, we'll get you outfitted. Until then, I guess you're just going to have to lie around mostly naked and let me pamper you.”
I laugh lightly and reach up, taking her hand, pulling her down next to me on the couch. “You know, the first two times we were together, you embarrassed me, then nearly broke my arm while sticking a gun in my face. And now you're pampering me, as you put it. Don't tell me the sexy seductive ass kicker's gone?”
“Not at all,” Katrina says, giving me a knowing smile. “But I have a soft side too, you know. I was thinking actually that I'd like to spend a few months exploring that softer side.”
“What'd you have in mind?” I ask, sitting up. “I mean, besides maybe a honeymoon?”
“A honeymoon for sure,” Katrina replies, smiling, “but only after we get you a fake ID. I know a guy who does good work.”
“Then what?”
Katrina strokes my face and kisses me on the cheek. “Then we let you finish your education, with me being your guide. I can't help you on the business courses, but I can help us make a comfortable living below the radar for as long as we want.”
I nod, knowing exactly why. Katrina's blast of information may have taken care of Peter and Samuel, but there will be friends, allies, and others affected who will be looking for revenge. It's going to be dangerous, but I think it's worth it. “Okay. Well, you said we've got what, three hundred thousand or so?”
“Something like that. More importantly, we've got connections.”
“Then let's tag a quarter million for building our future, and the rest we can use for taking the time to figure out what that future is going to be,” I tell her, taking her hand. “As long as that future is next to you and our daughter, I'll be happy.”
“Daughter?” Katrina asks, giving me a little smile. “So you want a daughter and not a son?”
“Oh, I'm sure we'll have a son together eventually, but I've got a feeling,” I tell her, and then kiss her softly. “Just a feeling, that's all.”
“Careful, unless you’re ready for what your lips are starting,” Katrina purrs, then lays her head on my shoulder.
I kiss her and pull her closer. “Any ideas for the honeymoon?”
Katrina thinks for a moment, then nods. “Catalina Island, off the coast of California. I read about there when I was training... I've always wanted to go.”
“That sounds perfect to me. Then we can plan the rest of our future.”
Katrina hums and snuggles against me. “Our future. I like the sound of that.”
Epilogue
An Online Chat Room
Kat- So did you guys get the files I sent you?
Andrea- Yes. She's beautiful.
Darcy- I agree. She's got your face and his eyes.
Kat- Which I am very grateful for. Although I guess I should worry when she gets old enough to attract boys.
Andrea- Are you kidding? The boys are going to be scared of pissing off her mother and father.
Darcy- LOL. True. By the way, you like her name I bet.
Andrea- Of course I do. I think Andrea's a beautiful name for a little girl.
Kat- As soon as she came out with those bl
ue eyes, we both knew exactly what to name her. How’s it going by the way?
Andrea- It's going. If I need help, I know who to call.
Kat- Damn right.
Darcy- Ditto. Hey guys, Jeff just got home, and Henry's hungry, so I'm going to take off.
Kat- OK. Hey, tell him congrats on the promotion. Detective now. Movin' on up.
Darcy- Deluxe apartment in the sky, Baby Girl. Take care, TTYL.
Kat- LU, Darce.
Andrea- Take care, Darce.
System- *BlakDhal1A has logged off*
Andrea- So is the gym going well?
Kat- We're doing the grand underground opening next week, but the privates and seminars are already netting us a good student base. Between him teaching the men, me the women, and us splitting the kid's classes, we're going to do well for a place that technically doesn't exist.
Andrea- What about your other investments?
Kat- Doing well. Your advice was dead on. Thanks.
Andrea- Don't thank me. I just verified what oniichan picked out. He's a smart one.
Kat- You sound proud of him.
Andrea- I am. Aren't you?
Kat- I'm proud of both of you. Hey, Andrea just woke up, she wants some Mommy time. I'm gonna take off myself. Give her some milk, then Jackson and I are going to work together on that '67 Corvette model that we picked up last week. I thought it'd be juvenile, but we're both loving it.
Andrea- OK. I love you, Katrina.
Kat- Not Katrina anymore, remember?
Andrea- Oh yeah. Sorry. I love you, Mercy. BTW, I like the sound of that. Mercy Hart.
Kat- Thanks. I like it, too. I love you too, Andrea. TTYL.
Andrea- TTYL
System- *CD Grace has logged off*
System- *Blue Sakura has logged off*
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Continue to see the covers and characters from the next two books and the limited time bonus book, Addicted.
**Revenge is Book 1.
Retaliation, Book 2, releases September 23rd.
Retribution, Book 3, releases September 30th.
Coming September 23rd - Book 2 - Retaliation. This will be Andrea’s Book.
Coming September 30th - Book 3 - Retribution. This will be Nathan’s Book!
Addicted: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance
By Lauren Landish
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“Your lips would look great wrapped around my…”
Who in the world tells a girl that on their first meeting? Tyler Locklin, that’s who. He’s filthy rich and arrogant with a set of abs that is the envy of all young men everywhere, and did I forget to mention devilishly handsome? He’s a bastard of the first order. I can’t stand to be in the same room with him.
But with one wink or a flash of his mischievous grin, I go weak in the knees. It pisses me off. I’m supposed to hate him. He’s an asshole. Yet, I can’t help but be drawn to him because I’m . . . ADDICTED.
**Full-length novel with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger!
Prologue
Victoria
I squirmed beneath the silken sheets, the last vestiges of an earth-shattering orgasm coursing through my sweat-covered limbs. My breasts rose and fell below the sheets as I tried to catch my breath and regain control. After a while, my racing pulse slowly started to calm down as the tremors slowly receded. At last, a sigh escaped my lips as my body was flooded by a rush of hormones.
It was always this way.
He takes me, ravaging my body for everything that it’s worth . . . and then leaves. It’s a game he plays. He wants to leave me in a state of desperation, aching for more of his touch. Aching to feel his lips all over my body. He leaves, knowing that I’ll still be there when he comes back, wanting every piece of him.
Bastard.
I should’ve left him. I had every right to. But whenever I think I’ve finally had enough, I make up reasons why I can’t. Maybe it’s because he's one of the richest men in the country. Maybe it’s that incredible swagger or that cocky grin that says he can fuck any woman he wants. Or maybe it’s because I like feeling his eight-inch cock plowing through me like no tomorrow.
The truth is, being with him is a huge ego boost for a girl like me. He’s handsome, powerful and mysterious, and I’m a small town girl with dreams of becoming big in the fashion world. Being with him is downright intoxicating. Addicting. And I can never get enough.
There’s just one problem . . . he’s my stepbrother.
Chapter 1
Victoria
A fool. That’s what my mother has always called me for choosing a career in the fashion industry. Why can’t I aspire to work in a real industry with more stability? She’d ask.
“Because that’s always been my dream, Mother,” I’d say.
“Well, sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but dreams don’t pay the bills.”
Then she’d go on to berate me, telling me how much of a mistake I was making with my life. It got so bad that after I graduated from college and got a job as a personal assistant for one of the most popular designers in the city, Christine Finnerman, we had a huge falling out. I don’t know what it was with her and my pursuing my dream of fashion.
Every day, she would call me to tell me that it wasn’t too late to turn around and do something else with my life. She would offer alternatives to my career choice—all of which I hated with a passion. For a while I put up with her not-so-subtle suggestions, but I was infuriated every second that I had to listen to her complaining, and it took great effort to hold it all in. I mean, isn’t it a parent’s duty to encourage their child's hopes, dreams and aspirations? Not so for my mother. She seemed to take a special kind of glee in telling me I was doing it all wrong.
Finally, I could take no more. The feelings that I’d been holding back had boiled over and I soon started getting into shouting matches with my mother, saying things better left unsaid. Of course, none of these arguments ever ended well, and we ended up not speaking to each other for weeks at a time.
It was so bad that when her wedding came about, I didn't go. She was marrying some filthy rich guy that she'd callously divorced my father for.
I figured if she thought I was such a failure, then she wouldn’t want me showing up at her wedding, embarrassing her in front of her high-class guests.
In truth, I also didn’t go because I was still angry about the divorce. My mother had up and left my dad without so much as an explanation, simply stating that she wasn’t happy in her marriage and hadn’t been for a very long time. I thought it had more to do with the new man she was seeing, who had a far, far larger bank account.
After all, my mom has always had a taste for the finer things in life, you understand.
It didn’t seem to hurt my father, however, since he had a new girlfriend half his age within a week of the divorce. My father, it seemed, had already been dipping his toes in the younger pool way before things turned south in his marriage. Perhaps it was the real reason why Mother left him. Whatever the case, despite being angry about the divorce, I didn’t approve of my father’s behavior either. The girl he was with was around my age and dumb as a sack of potatoes. To make matters worse, he had plans to marry her and start a family. Out of distaste, I started shunning my father’s company as well, because when it came down to it, I couldn’t tolerate a girl that was basically the same age as me being my stepmother.
So here I am, in a big city, parentless, with only my dreams and aspirations to guide me.
A sharp voice snapped me to attention.
“Where is my coffee?”
I froze, a stack of papers filled with clothing designs, measurements and fashion models bundled in my arms. Slowly, I turned around to see Christine Finnerman, my boss, leaning against her desk, her palm resting against
the polished wood. She impatiently tapped on her desk with her immaculate nails, making a clack, clack, clack sound.
As usual, she was dressed as sharp as a tack. A white dress wrapped around her matronly frame, fitting her like a glove, and a shiny black belt circled her waist, giving her shapely figure a va-voom appearance. She was wearing black glossy heels I’d contemplate killing my mother for, and not one bit of her shoulder-length hair, which is a striking pepper gray, was out of place.
“I’m sorry, Christine,” I said when I could finally manage, trying to push down the anxiety that was suddenly rushing up my throat. “I was just about to get it. I didn’t expect you to arrive ten minutes early.”
Christine eyed me with contempt reserved for a dog. “One should always be prepared for the unexpected, especially in this industry.” She paused for dramatic effect. Hurry up. I swear she spoke the last words with her mouth closed.
“Right away.”
Scrambling in my three-inch Christian Dior heels—a job perk that I particularly enjoyed—I made my way to my desk that’s in the adjoining room to Christine’s office. I threw the stack down on it, breathing in and out, trying to catch my breath. I was wearing a tight black dress that makes it difficult for me to breathe as well as move because it’s a size too small. Christine told me that at a size eight, I’m fat by industry standards, so I’d started trying to squeeze into smaller dress sizes, hoping that the discomfort would encourage me to lose weight.
Revenge: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 23