“Michael!”
I turn around to see a frustrated woman kneeling on the beach next to a boy clutching a plastic shovel in his hands. The tide rolls in and floods the small hole he’s digging. She scoops him in her arms and walks to a smiling man with a plastic beach chair folded under his arm. A stab of longing hits my chest as I watch the happy family walk away. It grows inside me like a balloon, swelling underneath my ribs.
I stand up from the sand as another peculiar, warm breeze strokes my face, and I walk away from the water. When I turn around to look back at that spot, I wait for the familiar feelings of rage and anguish to surface, but there’s nothing. Just a moment of golden peace.
13
Fawn
I watch dutifully as the nurse threads a needle through the reddened flesh, suturing the wound of a young man’s arm. Vicki is one of my favorite nurses for a reason. When the doctors aren’t around, she lets me do things the other PAs aren’t allowed to do.
She smiles and gives me a wry grin, holding up the needle. “Wanna try?”
Like I said, she’s awesome.
“Are you sure?”
The man gives me a wary look, not enthused by the lack of confidence in my tone.
“Yeah. Why not?”
Damn.
I slap on a pair of gloves and take the needle from her hands gingerly. Fuck, I don’t have the faintest clue how to do this, but it can’t be that hard, right? Just like sewing clothes. I look up at Vicki, and she smiles encouragement. “Go on.”
I pierce his skin, and he flinches as I poke it through the other side. “How’s that?”
“Perfect! Just keep the stitches small.”
After a few stitches I get the hang of it and reach the end of the gash. Vicki teaches me how to tie a knot.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” she says, smiling. “I’ll teach you how to do mattress sutures next time.”
Cool.
I glance at the clock as the man I sutured slides from the chair, looking faintly irritated at being used as a pincushion. I give him an apologetic smile and leave the room after Vicki.
“I’m going to clock out.”
“All right—oh! Look who’s here!”
I look in the direction she’s pointing and see my husband leaning against the wall in his dark suit, a devilish smile on his handsome face. My heart flutters as I say goodbye to Vicki and head straight for him, my hands somehow finding their way to my belly. The smile widens as his eyes rake me up and down.
“Hey, you.”
“What are you doing here?”
He slides his arm around my waist, and blood rushes to my skin. Silas—Michael bends his head, kissing my cheek in what would be a chaste gesture if it weren’t for his hand nearly grabbing my ass.
“Looking for my wife, what else? I want you.”
I recognize the stark lust in his eyes, and desire curls around my stomach. It hardens my nipples and heats my skin. Six months he’s been leading this place, and he thinks he can shirk his duties to fuck me whenever he wants. The warmth of his hand disappears as he gently pushes me against the wall. His hard, insistent mouth smothers mine, and I melt between his body and the wall.
“We’re giving everyone a free show.”
“I don’t care,” he says between stolen kisses.
“I’ve got to clock out first.”
A minor annoyance crosses his face, and then he grabs me close, his palm curving possessively over my belly. My heart pounds hard, sending a fierce spell to my head.
“Fawn, what about the baby?”
Worried eyes gaze down at me. It’s only been a few months since we found out we were going to be parents. Me—a mom. I can’t help but feel a small thrill of mingled horror and excitement whenever I think of it.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll take some time off and then I’ll go back to work.”
He nods, looking uncertain as he gazes around the place. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I grab his chin, kissing him softly. “Yes, I’m sure.”
* * *
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Read on for the first few chapters of the Cravotta Crime Family series:
No one in their right mind marries a bad boy…
I’m a player. A man whore. Whatever the hell you want to call it, I get around.
During the day I crack heads and extort businesses. At night I find girls. I live to hear them moan for me, but one night is all they get. No one ever made me want more.
Until her.
Elena.
The moment her lips wrapped around me, I was done. All day I think about running my tongue all over those curves.
Too bad those curves are off limits. She’s running from a man who will kill me for touching her.
Well, she’s tired of running and needs my help.
She thinks I’m doing it for money.
I’m doing it to make her mine.
Married to the Bad Boy
1
Tony
“C’moooooon, Tony.”
Blondie sighs into my ear, her vermouth and gin breath gusting over my nose as she tries to shimmy over my legs, a feat that sends a lot of raised eyebrows my way, considering this chick’s dress is practically hiked up to her panties.
It makes my cock stand to attention when her little ass rubs my lap. She’s wearing the same panties as yesterday. Dirty. Sexy.
But if I thought for a second that I had a good chance of running into yesterday’s one-night stand, I would’ve never come to this bar. I fucked her last night, and the needy bitch wants seconds.
Of course she does.
She grips my waist with surprising strength and lands a sloppy kiss on my cheek. I sweep a hand over her bare shoulders and a row of goose bumps sprouts over her skin.
“Sweetheart, listen to me.” I smile, painfully.
“No.”
She pouts her small lips for a moment and then erupts into giggles.
“No? What the fuck do you mean, no?”
“I don’t wanna listen. I wanna fuck.”
My cock wants to fuck her, too. It swells in my slacks despite how much I want it to calm down. I don’t fuck girls twice. Ever. Whatsherface is making it extremely hard for me to turn her away.
Blondie slides her manicured hand over my thigh and grabs the bulge between my legs. It twitches in response and I groan out loud, embarrassed for my cock. Blood roars through my veins, pounding through my head: Shut up and fuck the girl.
It’s hard to ignore that fucking voice when it’s hissing in your ear, over and over.
Goddamn her. I grab a fistful of her hair and bend my mouth to her ear. “Fucking listen to me or I’ll spank you in front of this whole bar.”
That captures her attention. Finally.
She shuts up and her doe-like eyes find mine, but they drop away almost immediately, focusing on my chest and arms. She places her hands on me and feels me up. I don’t want her, but it’s hard for my cock not to get excited when I’ve a half-naked chick bouncing on my lap.
It’s hard to keep her eyes locked on mine. She has the attention span of a goldfish and is just about as bright. I tap her cheek lightly and she turns her head toward mine again.
“We had fun last night, but it’s over. I don’t go out with girls more than once.”
I’m distracted by her nipple, which slips out of that thing she calls a dress, and my cock jumps in my slacks.
“It feels like you want me again.”
Then her hand tightens around my stiffening cock and I am
less and less aware of the fact that there are people gawking at us.
Jesus.
Blonde hair tickles my neck as she leans in, smiling drunkenly. “I’ll leave you alone if you fuck me one more time.”
One more time?
I blow air out from my cheeks and consider it. She’s a lusty broad, and willing—and I could easily bring her to the back and fuck her in one of the VIP booths. Or the storeroom. I can just imagine her slick, pink pussy wrapping around my cock like a glove, just like it did last night. I could fuck her cunt nice and fast, and as long as she didn’t spread out word that Tony Vidal could be persuaded into a second fuck, I’d be all right.
“You’re the best I ever had, baby.”
You’re not the best I ever had.
Still, she was a good, hot fuck and she came real nice for me. Sometimes they come in the bar looking for me because they know who I’m connected with, and they think that if they flash their tits at me I’ll loan them money or beat the shit out of their boyfriends—no. Other times they’re danger whores looking for a hot piece of action. They know I’m a bad boy, and they’ll fuck me if I pretend to tell them some secrets about the mob. It gets me off to see them hot for my cock. I stick my fingers in their cunts and make them scream for me. They twist and writhe, and I make them come before I get my dick wet. I’ve got a real reputation for scoring pussy. Tony—the great fuck. Hey, it’s not a bad one.
Her fingers splay over my chest and they coil around my cock. It thickens in her hand and she gives me this coy little smile, because she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
“You just want me balls deep inside your cunt, don’t you?”
She doesn’t bat an eye. “Yes.”
All right. Fuck it.
“I’ll bang the shit out of you—again. But that’s it. No more. You know the rules.”
She nods drunkenly. “Yeah, I know the—the rules.”
We slide off the stool and her tits practically pop out as she stumbles next to me. The guys in the bar wheel their heads around like sharks smelling blood, but she’s my meal for tonight. Actually, only a snack, really, because I’m interested in the piece of ass I briefly spotted. If I see anyone else talking to her when I get back, I’ll tell him to fuck off right before smashing his fucking face into the wall.
I drag her bony ass behind the bar, looking for Tommy before I open the door to his storeroom. It’s a small, dusty room with boxes of liquor. There’s nothing really important, but he’d bust a nut if he knew I was fucking in here.
“Tony.”
I turn around after closing the door, and the crazy bitch stands there, already naked. Her pink dress pools at her feet. My eyes follow her bare, slim legs to her trim waist—not an ounce of fat—and then her small, firm tits. Seeing them now reminds me how I nailed her tight little cunt, how her tits almost seemed to fit in my mouth, and how she squealed when I sucked on her perfect skin. She opens her mouth, but all I want from her lips is to have them wrapped around my cock. Her shaved pussy gleams as I approach her, slapping her inner thigh. She spreads her legs apart and I run my fingers over her swollen clit.
My cock throbs as she tilts her head back, her blonde hair hanging as her chest pulses.
“Fuck me, Tony.”
The request makes my mouth water, but not as much as her glistening pussy. I want her swollen lips in my mouth. I want to taste her while she comes on my tongue.
“Do I look like the kind of guy who takes demands from women?”
Still smiling stupidly, she shakes her head. “No.”
“Then why are you trying to treat me like a bitch?”
The question is too complex for her to answer in her state. Still, I enjoy watching the puzzlement on her face as she struggles to figure out an appropriate response. She lifts her small shoulders in a shrug.
I sit down on a box and beckon to her with a single finger.
“I want to taste that beautiful cunt of yours.”
Blondie smiles coyly as she approaches me, her small feet curling against the cold floor.
“I want you to grind your pussy against my face. Move.”
I reach around and give her a vicious slap over her ass. Her muscles twitch as a bright-red burn flushes her skin. She giggles and moves forward. I smell her musk—it’s all over her thighs. She spreads them apart and I grab her ass cheeks, loving how firm they are, and then my tongue darts out, tasting her. Her taste swirls around my tongue as I press my face to her greedy cunt, reaching back and eating her pussy for all I’m worth. She lets out a long moan and digs her fingers in my hair, which I hate, but I allow because her antics turn me the fuck on. I catch a glimpse of myself eating out this chick in the mirror across the room, and I laugh into her heated pussy. It doesn’t get much fucking better than this—scoring hot chicks every fucking night.
A sharp intake of breath from her tells me that I’m on the right track. She yanks hard when I plunge my tongue inside her slippery walls, using my finger to rub her clit.
“Fuck—Yeah, right there.”
“You like that, baby? You want to come?”
“Y-yes!” She gasps out, her chest dotted with red.
I use my hands to bring her closer to the edge. My fingers dive into her wet cunt, curling forward until I hit that sweet spot. She gasps, clinging to my hair. My tongue swirls around her swollen nub, sucking the juices that spill from her. Then I insert a third finger and her thighs twitch on either side of her. She lets out a long groan as she comes over my fingers, her pussy clenching me hard. My dick strains against my slacks as I feel her come undone. I slide my fingers out of her and wipe her juices on the inside of her thighs.
“Holy fuck,” she says, sounding as though I fucked the drunkenness out of her.
“All right. Now get the fuck out of here.”
I give her another slap across her ass and push her back as she gasps for breath.
“But—you said you’d fuck me!”
I grin at the confusion clouding her face. “And I did.”
“That’s not what I wanted!”
“I wanted you to leave me the fuck alone, but I guess we don’t always get the things we want in life.”
“Fuck you!”
A smirk tightens my face. “Already have.”
Then I leave her standing there, naked and stunned. It’s a bit of a dick move, but I told the girl about my rules. I was very clear. One night. No repeats.
I duck into the bathroom to wash the pussy juice from my hands and face, laughing as I catch a glimpse of my disheveled appearance in the mirror. My dick is still half-hard, but I decide to leave it alone. I walk out, passing the storeroom as I reenter the bar and take my seat.
Pussy and the mob are pretty much my life.
My nights are pretty much the same.
It starts with a look.
One glance across the bar. A giggle, a smile, a shadow of a wink.
I’m into you.
Really what they’re saying is: Let’s fuck.
It’s a language I’ve got down to a science over the years.
Then I look at the girl. She’s sitting at the far end of the bar. Is she my type? Too thin? I’ll take a woman with curves any day over some stick-thin model with a bony ass. Red lipstick. Cherry red. I’ve got a theory on lipstick color. The redder it is, the more wild she’ll be in bed.
Long, slender neck. Like a swan. She has dark-brown eyes—I can see their color all the way from here. Nice thick lips. A black dress with thin straps clings to her shoulders. Jesus, the shit girls wear when it’s minus ten outside.
My eyes slip right down to her plunging neckline.
Nice tits, honey.
Yeah, I’m checking them out. So what? She notices and a pretty blush blooms over her porcelain cheeks.
The chair squeaks as I shift myself uncomfortably, my cock stirring as I think about what she’d look like naked. What will her tits feel like in my hands? I imagine striding to her right now and pulling down t
hat tight cocktail dress to free them.
Oh, Maddon. I can feel my cock throbbing as I imagine the filthy things I’d like to do to her body. Tie her up, loop the rope around her tits, and make her bend her knees to suck my cock then I’d return the favor and stick my tongue between her legs until she comes. Vivid images flash through my head, slowly getting my dick hard, but I stay here and sip my drink, giving her a friendly smile.
Right away I can tell that this girl is not used to being ignored. She keeps trying to catch my gaze, but she won’t budge. Fuck, she’s one of those girls. I’m tempted to wait her out, to let her come to me, but I can’t risk some other asshole hitting on her.
Draining my glass, I set it down and slide off the stool, making a beeline for her. She pretends not to notice as I slide in right next to her. A pleasant citrus smell wafts from her neck and I bathe in it for a moment.
“How’s it going, hon?”
Her delicate face turns toward me and my heart flips inside my chest. Wow, she’s gorgeous. She doesn’t wear too much makeup. Great skin. She’s average height, with long, thick, dark-brown hair, a few curls teased around her face. Nice pouty lips and big eyes. They’re animated—full of emotion. Large golden hoops for earrings. Beautiful face and body. She looks like a hyper-sexualized version of the Italian girls I grew up with. I can almost see her nipples through the fabric, and a vision of me bending her over the bar table consumes my mind.
“Not that well, actually.”
A loud New York accent shakes from her mouth. She plays with the almost empty drink in her hand and gives me a fleeting look. Then she does a double take, a slow blush spreading over her cheeks as she checks me out.
Take a good look, hon.
“Can I get you a drink?”
My lips pull into a grin as her blush deepens. She wraps her fingers around her drink and gives a little shake of her head.
I want her hair coiled around my fist as she kneels on all fours, her tits swinging as I nail her from behind. The heat of that vision almost makes me groan, because she is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.
His Secret Baby (A Bad Boy Romance) Page 40