Jack - Perfect Burn: Hot Crime Romance

by Alice May Ball

  When his cock sprang free it was like a telegraph pole, like a crane gantry heaved from straight up, over to a forty-five degree thrust. When it found its angle, it bounced there, thick, heavy, and impossibly long. It was fantastic. And terrifying. His grin widened. My mouth dropped open and a chasm opened in my stomach.

  He turned and held it. Waved it slowly.

  “You like?” his eyes burned into mine. My tongue flicked across my lips. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to be his. To give him everything. And to tell him everything. I knew I had to wait on the last part. But it was hard. He needed to know. And I had to wait to tell him.

  He took a step nearer and I gasped. My stomach fluttered and my nipples were sore. He held his cock pointed straight at me. I wanted to wrap him, feel him inside me, in every part of me in every way. It had been so long. I wanted the moment to last, and I wanted it to be past.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Haley.”

  His eyes were hungry and fierce as he climbed slowly on top of me. I bit my lip as my thighs stretched wider. With one hand, he stroked my face.

  “I’m going to fill you with every fucking fat inch of my cock.”

  His cock slid up against me, pushed on my mound, pressed against my clit.

  “I’m going to pump you full of me.”

  The scents of him made me want to bite into his neck, his shoulder, but I didn’t want to take my eyes from his.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said. “I feel like I’ve waited forever for this.”

  His huge bulb slipped to press against my petals and I shuddered. I wrapped my ankles around his back. In his eyes, I saw fire.

  Ryan held my gaze as the head of his cock slid in between my lips and into the opening of my soaked pussy.

  I sucked in a breath as he parted me with his shaft. Then he slammed in. Hard. All the way. I cried out. It was just a noise, but it stretched and became his name.

  “Ryan!”

  He shoved in again, harder. I hadn’t wanted to cry out, but the force of him, his hardness and heat as he drove into me, pushed open a door inside me.

  It almost hurt. It almost filled me too much. It was almost unbearable, and I almost couldn’t take it. All over, my body trembled. I grabbed his hair and stared helplessly into his eyes. My walls hugged and gripped around his pulsing girth.

  His hips and mine just pressed together for a long, breathless moment. I raked my fingers through his hair and his eyes scoured my face. Then my breath caught as he slid back and almost all the way out. When he plunged back in, my lips squeezed on his bulb and clung along his shaft as my pelvis rocked toward him.

  We kissed as our bodies found the motion—the hard, liquid rhythm—and flowed, crashing and splashing together. I wrapped him as he rammed and slammed me. I pulled him to me. I dragged my hand down his spine to feel the rolling motion in his back.

  From my core, streams of bubbling, bursting tremors and ecstatic tingles charged through me. My nipples hardened and stung. I clawed and climbed to get more of his flesh deeper inside me. When our hips met, I ground against him, rubbed my lips and grazed my clit against his pubic bone.

  We flowed together with hot force along a current of boiling, rising stretches and clenches. He held me like he owned me, like he drove me, like I was the most precious thing he would ever destroy. His force filled me and pumped me hard, pushed like he would burst me. He kneaded and squeezed my breasts and I arched to scrape my stomach against the fuzz on his.

  “Haley, I thought about you.” His voice was a hard rasp. “So much. For so long.”

  The insides of my thighs trembled as they pulled and held him. With my heels and ankles, I stretched to pull him deeper, but he was too strong, too big. Too hard for my little shins to do more than quiver against his trunk. He rode higher, harder, and my elbows beat on the mattress. As I was filled and stretched, the tense pitch of sensation inside me rose to a plateau, then rolled, gathered as he steered and pounded me, accelerated, and swerved me.

  Waves from my aching pussy gathered and grew. He slid farther, deeper, and faster until I reached another precipice. Then he cooled. The bastard. Waited. Left me to calm and settle. Until the moment I least expected it.

  Ryan held my face in his hands and leaned close to look into my eyes. He called my name, “Haley. You are so beautiful.”

  My juices sprang. And he hammered me more, harder. Longer and hotter. The length of his shaft rammed in and out of me like a piston. A piston that set off an explosion every time it hit its peak. My arms and legs held him with all the strength I had. My fingers clawed in his hair, scraped down his back, and grabbed at his ass as he plowed into me.

  “Ryan!” I gasped as he hefted my ass up with one hand and drew his hard thighs up under me. I flopped back, my arms wide, writhing as he reamed my pussy long and deep. The cheeks of my ass reddened and stung from the slap of his thighs. The sensitivity only made me convulse and spasm more intensely.

  I reached out for him, but he just plowed on. My back arched as he squeezed my breast, the arc of it extending even further when he bent to suck my nipple, still rocking the length of his cock hard into me. As he found the angle to get higher, farther inside me and scrape more at the front of my opening, my hips jerked and I turned my face to bite my arm.

  As hard as I could, I bucked my ass, to slide my weeping lips along his hard pole, but I couldn’t coordinate. The explosive sensations inside me jerked and twisted my body out of rhythm. I twitched like a rag doll shot through with electricity. All the while, his cock beat and slammed me relentlessly.

  Ryan lifted me from under my shoulders to pull me onto his lap. With him holding me, moving me, I rose up on the length of his cock and my pelvis tipped as I slid back down. My face, my head, and my arms flopped over his shoulder as he lifted me up and let me down on the rail of his cock. My hips drove my pussy along him and took him greedily in. No other part of me seemed to coordinate as he filled me and stretched me.

  He gripped my hair to pull back my head and he kissed and licked my neck, my throat, and under and around my ear. Then my face. He yanked my hair and stared into my eyes as he beat his cock high and deep into me.

  The tides inside me rose and swelled. From the backs of my thighs up the walls of my stomach, splashing, crashing crests of sensation swirled and spilled, brimming upward, igniting my nipples. My throat and my breasts prickled and my buttocks and thighs clenched as I shouted his name again. He rose. Held me higher, beat me harder. Shot in deeper. Penetrated and split me wider, farther.

  “Ryan, you fucker!”

  “Haley, you’re wonderful.”

  “Ryan! Come! Come with me!”

  His thighs pummeled the cheeks of my ass. “Come on, Haley! Yes!”

  “Fuck me, Ryan!” the waves rose and gathered into a swell. What began as a brimming became a cascade and spilled out to drench me inside. “Fuck me!” I shouted, but even I couldn’t make out the words.

  “Haley, you’re so fucking amazing,” he murmured, and I shook like a tree in the wind as he hammered me. The heat of his cock drove me to juddering shakes. His shaft swelled in long pulses as he sucked my neck and blasted bolts of hot, sticky love against my walls.

  He stayed deep inside me and held me as I collapsed. His voice was low and hot in my ear. “Now,” he said, “you’re fucked.”

  I could barely even speak to reply. “You know, I think I am.”

  He held and cuddled me. Kissed my skin. His lips brushed my shoulders. My neck. My cheeks and the side of my face. “I love you.”

  Then I woke up. “You what?”

  “I’m not even sure if I know what it means,” he murmured, “but I know how it feels now.”

  “You didn’t before?”

  He leaned up on his elbow. The look in his eyes was one I hadn’t seen before. It was serious, but soft and sure.

  “The first days and weeks, while I was inside, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I spent almost all of my time wonde
ring where you were, what you were doing, how I could make things better for you. I thought about nothing but you, all night and all day.”

  I stroked his face. “But you wouldn’t let me see you. You never accepted for me to come visit.”

  “I didn’t want to drag you into any of that shit. I wanted you to go on with your life. Have what you deserved.”

  “What about having what I wanted?”

  “Some fuckup who got himself slung in prison?”

  “You got yourself a reduced sentence. For helping the police, for cooperating with the DA. And for saving that cop at the mall.”

  “I did. But none of that made me feel any better. And the first few weeks, I was just sick. I felt it all the time like an illness. I could hardly eat. I didn’t want to do anything. It felt terrible. I couldn’t understand it until another prisoner told me what was wrong. ‘You’re in love,’ he told me. Then it all made sense.”

  He held me. “Then I knew what I had to do. I got back to working out and getting myself in shape for when I would get out.”

  “And you arranged this room, with the flowers?”

  “Yup.”

  “And if I had given up, or moved on?”

  “I’d have had to live with it. It was an awful risk. But I had to take the responsibility for it. But that guy, he helped me to see, love is a risk.”

  “You’re worrying me, Ryan. I think aliens stole my man while he was in prison.”

  “That guy, he’s a double murderer. He’ll never get out. But what keeps him going is the love he has for his daughter.”

  “Does she go and see him?”

  “Hasn’t been once. He said it was hard at first, but then one day he realized. Love was wanting the best for her, for his daughter. And the best for her, he said, was to have nothing to do with her no-good, criminal father.”

  I was shocked. “But she’s part of him. And he’s part of her.”

  He looked in my eyes again. “He said that he hopes she’ll realize that before it’s too late. But for now, if having nothing to do with him is what’s best for her, that’s what he wants for her.”

  “That does sound like love.”

  He said, “Love is a risk,” and he kissed me, “but it’s the best risk.” He looked in my eyes. “If you take the risk, you can win everything.”

  And when he kissed me again, long and deep, I nearly told him everything. But I still had to be sure.

  His saying that he loved me took me by surprise, but I still had to figure out my real feelings for him. What they meant, as well as the sheer, overwhelming weight of them. His feelings really did seem sincere, but could I trust them? What were they, exactly; were they enough for me to commit to him, with the responsibilities that I had now? Was I truly in love with Ryan?

  And there was something else I needed to know. Something even more important than that. Next day, back at Aileen’s, we’d find out.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL morning when I took Ryan back to Aileen’s house. On the way, I knew he was in for a few surprises, and I wasn’t about to spoil any of them. The last one, most of all. My life would likely take a turn based on his reaction.

  He looked at me as I drove and his voice had a force that I hadn’t heard before when he said, “I do love you, Haley.” I had to pull over and kiss him. It held us up for quite some time.

  The kitchen was bright as we stepped inside. Tynie was fixing eggs and cereal. The kids were nowhere to be seen. Tynie looked around to Ryan and smiled. “Hi, Ryan,” he said, and Ryan did a double-take. I had grown used to Tynie. Ryan’s reaction reminded me what a change had come over him.

  Tynie made eye contact with others now. Not for long and not steadily, but he did. He made almost normal conversation. Asked how people were.

  Even his movements were softer and easier. Except when Tarquin gave him plates of food with different colors touching. I was sure he did that on purpose because he thought Tynie’s reaction was funny.

  Aileen came in, smiling, and brought Ryan a coffee. She looked him up and down, told him it was good to see him and that he was looking well.

  Tynie called out, “Breakfast,” and soon Tarquin and Waynetta came in and brought Jack, walking almost steadily now, with the older kids holding one of his hands each.

  Ryan crouched to say “hello” to Waynetta, then to Tarquin. And he looked at Jack. For a long time.

  Jack’s eyes fixed on Ryan the moment he was in range. He stood, steady and firm, to look right in Ryan’s eyes, his own impossibly long eyelashes batting as he did.

  Ryan looked up to me and into my eyes, but he couldn’t keep his attention off Jack for more than a moment. He reached his big hands out to little Jack and looked back up to me for permission.

  I nodded and he lifted the boy. I think he knew from the moment he saw him. I think Jack knew, too.

  Ryan held Jack and both of their faces glowed.

  I wanted to let him sit with Jack, and he wanted to do that, but from then on he wouldn’t let me be more than a few feet away from them. We sat in the TV room with Tarquin and Waynetta as they played together.

  After a while, I asked him, “So. Will you be headed for LA?”

  He looked at me like he was waking from a dream. A good dream, though.

  “No,” he said. “I’ll get a job driving here and get some money together so I can start a business. Fixing and maintaining cars for bread-and-butter work. Tuning and custom jobs for the money and the future.” His voice had such assurance, it made me gooey.

  I asked him, “Have you been planning that all this time?”

  “No. I just now worked it all out. I’d been planning to take you to LA and have adventures in the movie business.”

  “So…”

  “The car shop?”

  I nodded.

  He smiled. “LA can wait. Maybe we’ll go in a year or two. Right now, I have a family to support.”

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  ANOTHER BAD BOY

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  PIERCE

  A bad boy mafia romance

  Kidnapped by a killer

  “I didn’t give much thought to old man Grace’s curvy, sassy daughter when I slung her over my shoulder and kidnapped her. I wanted his club, she was only collateral. But they say that opposites attract, right?”

  I have to hold the little minx close or she makes all kinds of havoc. That’s where the real trouble starts. However close I hold my feisty prisoner, the urge to hold her closer and tighter gets stronger. It uncoils like a fat, sleeping python then it lengthens and hardens and nothing will make it sleep until it has fed.

  He’s hot as hell, but he’s a ruthless killer

  “He took me hostage just to steal my daddy’s club. I needed to show him that I wasn’t like the paper-thin dancers and models who flowed into his arms and his bedsheets like a tide. I wanted to smack that smirk right off his chiseled face.

  The longer he holds me in his power and try as hard as I might, I can’t push away the thoughts of how it will be if he turns his brutal force on me. Can I resist him?”