“Now, I didn’t realise I’d picked up a bad girl,” Thunder purrs. We walk down a long corridor. “Am I in danger?”
“Of course not,” I reply with a twinkle in my eye. “I’ll be gentle.”
“Oh, please no—I like it rough.”
And once again I’m tongue-tied. It seems I’m destined to always be the one on the back foot with him.
“Now, I promise there’s no ulterior motive here,” he says as we walk out into the street to be met by a large, serious-looking vehicle, a Range Rover or something like that. “But shall we go back to my hotel? We can drink at the bar, but can escape to my room if I start getting hounded.”
“Sure, that’s fine by me.”
I’m a big girl—if he makes advances I can resist. If I want to resist, that is.
He opens the door of the vehicle for me, then closes it once I’m sat inside. How gentlemanly. Seconds later he hops in whilst cursing. “Step on it, mate, there’s a stampeding hoard of fans heading this way.”
He reaches for the seatbelt to strap himself in and I turn my head to look out of the back window. Sure enough, a group which seems to be largely made up of girls is legging it down the street towards us.
“I came out of a different entrance to avoid this.” He shakes his head. “But there was a lookout who spotted me.”
The driver engages the engine and pulls off at quite a lick, pushing me harder into the upholstery.
“Sorry.” He lays his hand over mine. “All the fun of being famous.”
I see the heaviness in his eyes. Folk often complain that celebrities don’t know they’re born and that they should accept the invasion of their privacy as a side effect of what they do. After all, they make a lot of money, right? I’ve never bought into that way of thinking. Everyone is entitled to some privacy. It must be very wearying to have to deal with journalists and crazed fans all the time.
“It’s okay. Must get annoying, though.”
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it comes with the job, but some of the things the fans will do to just get close to me is kinda disturbing.”
“Yeah,” the driver calls out. “Only the other week some girl threw herself under my wheels to get Thunder’s autograph.”
“Oh my God, was she all right?”
“Yeah, Don was only doing about five miles an hour at the time. She bounced off.” Thunder sighs.
“Thunder got out, gave her an autograph, and she skipped off like nothing had happened.” Don laughs. “I mean, it’s funny, but what if I’d been going any quicker? Doesn’t bear thinking about, really.”
There’s a moment’s silence as we all consider what could have happened.
“What possesses someone like that? To throw all common sense out of the window?” I ask, shaking my head.
“It’s some kind of mania, I think. Like, the guy following me around Asda asking me to sign his cabbage for him was not in his right mind. He got quite aggressive when it turned out I didn’t have a pen. Then there was that OAP stalker. She got herself arrested in the end.”
“Bloody hell, what a nightmare.”
“Well, the majority are nice, mostly sane, and if I put on a hat and dress like a chav no one even knows it’s me. Just I can’t really do that at a concert, can I?”
“No, that’s true. It’d probably get a few raised eyebrows anyway.”
Amy would hate it in that fervent way teenagers do. Everything is so clean cut when you’re thirteen. There are alternative people and there are chavs and also old people. By old she means twenty years and above. Everyone fits in those categories and there is no overlap. Oh, for the simplicity of youth.
“I once contemplated growing out my hair and losing the lightning bolt. Made the mistake of tweeting about it. Oh wow. Who knew so many people had such strong feelings about hair?”
“Oh, I hear you. My daughter feels ridiculously passionate about eyebrows of all things. I don’t get it at all, but then I never really have.”
“Too cool for school, huh, Josie?” Thunder winks.
“Oh, Lord, I wish.” I laugh. “I’ve never been cool.”
Just then the Range Rover stops and Thunder quickly takes off his seatbelt.
“Okay, let’s get into the hotel before any more fans attack.” He leaps out, and before I can open my door he’s opening it and grabbing me.
He wraps an arm around me and walks us quickly towards a side entrance. There’s a lot of talking and people around but I can’t really tell who or what since Thunder is towering over me to my right and Don is blocking out the view to my left whilst talking rapidly into a phone. We reach the fire exit and it’s opened for us immediately, then slammed shut behind us.
“Christ almighty, they get everywhere. Damn journos. You all right, Josie?”
“Yeah, I’m okay, I couldn’t really see anything. I wasn’t sure what was going on.”
“Well there was a group of fans waiting, but in amongst them were some members of the less than esteemed press. That’s why I route marched us through it all. I don’t want to pay their damn wages for another week. You know they just make the shit up that goes with the photos they take?”
“Yeah.” I nod.
“Yeah, so they get more money than me a week for taking a crap photo and making some scandal up to go with it. Fucking scum. Do you mind if we go straight up to my room? They’ll be hounding me all night otherwise.”
“Okay, then, that’s fine.” If this is all a scheme to get me into bed with him, it’s working quite well. Although he really doesn’t have to try this hard. All he has to do is ask!
“Oh, you’re a star, Josie. Thank you so much.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. Don accompanies us in the lift and only turns to leave once we’re in Thunder’s room. Maybe he’ll stay out in the corridor all night? I don’t know how all this works.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” He bows with florid exaggeration.
It’s not terribly humble. There’s a huge living room area, with a giant bed up at the other end of the room. I guess the door to the left leads to a bathroom. “Wow, this is impressive.”
“There are a few perks to this business. Have a seat, make yourself comfy. Do you want a drink?” He pulls off his beanie and jacket and throws them on the chair by the door.
“Oh, erm, yes please.”
“There’s some beers in the fridge. I think there might be some champagne in there, too. What do you fancy?”
“A beer will be fine. I don’t really like champagne.”
“Me either—it’s all fizz and pop with no real taste.” He grabs two cans and brings them over to the sofa. I realise suddenly how far away this is from my normal life. Swanky hotel, hot young man, and out after eight on a Friday night. This is definitely very much out of my comfort zone.
Thunder deposits the cans on the oak coffee table and drops down with little finesse into the seat beside me.
“So, hey.” He looks me straight in the eye. Lord, he’s gorgeous.
“Hey.” I giggle, trying hard to stare right back, but duck my head as his gaze becomes too intense. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Fancy,” he responds, reaching out and grabbing his can. “I’m so sorry for all the arsing around. I’d have much preferred to have taken you out for a good meal and wined you and dined you the proper way but, I’m afraid, this is as close as it gets.”
He opens the can and takes a long swig.
“It’s fine. I understand. I—well, I’m still not totally sure this is all real.” I shake my head gently.
“Oh, it certainly is real. I can pinch you if you’d like.” He puts his free hand on my arm and I squeak in advance of him exerting any pressure.
“But I actually think kissing you would work better.”
His face is right in front of me and his lips are pressing on mine before I realise and I’m kissing back deeply. His lips are soft and giving, but his kiss is hard and demanding. The contrast makes my mind whirl and my heart beat faster.
I’ve not felt so turned on in more years than I care to admit. His hands rest on my hips, long fingers extended, begging me for more. I claw at his chest, not sure if I’m pulling him in or pushing him away. There’s part of me that’s trying desperately to escape. That corner of my brain that has the photos of his conquests stored up, the articles they were attached to ready to quote.
But I don’t want to listen to that. This hot, sexy man is kissing me, arousing me in a way I’ve only ever experienced in my dreams before ... What would I gain from pushing him away? Sure, he’s a player, but he’s going to be out of my life tomorrow, so why not have fun while he’s here?
I wrap my fingers in his T-shirt and pull him closer. That appears to be his cue to slide his hands up my back and deepen the kiss even further. Am I breathing? Am I kissing? I can’t tell the difference anymore. I don’t want to. I need more of his kiss more than I need the air.
“Convinced it’s real yet?” He runs his hand over my shoulder, pulling my dress strap down with his soft touch.
“Erma …” I gasp and pull in a deep breath. “It’s getting more and more dream like.”
“How often do you snog me in your dreams?” His lips turn up in a cheeky little smirk.
“Now that would be telling.” I look down between our bodies as my cheeks heat.
Thunder lifts my chin with his finger until I’m looking him straight in the eyes. “Well then, are the real kisses or the dream kisses better?”
I lick my lips nervously. “Real, I think.”
“Only think?” He shakes his head gently, grinning all the while.
“Well, I’ve got limited experience to go on so far,” I reply, finding bravery from his lusty gaze.
“But that was my best kissing.” He pouts.
I laugh and quickly kiss his pout. “But you only kissed my lips. You kiss other places in my dreams.”
Thunder raises an eyebrow with surprise, then he laughs. “Oh well then, let’s give you something else to work on.” Dipping forward he kisses where my jawline meets my ear then trails gentle kisses lower until he’s nestling into my neck and adding nibbles to the mix.
I let out a soft moan when his nibbles centre on my pulse point. They deepen and get harder until it’s a bite and a suck and I am melted goo in his arms.
“That’s cheating, it’s supposed to just be kissing,” I gasp, trying to regain the upper hand.
He drops lower, kisses softly, then digs his teeth into the flesh over my clavicle. “This is heavy metal kissing.”
And I won’t want to be kissed any other way from here on in.
Holding my arms down beside my body he kisses across my chest in a meandering line. I’m trapped, deliciously so, and my heart pounds harder as his lips caress the skin over it. Grabbing and pulling down the top of my dress with one hand, he skims his kisses lower. My heart stops. What’s he going to do next?
He leans back, still holding onto the top of my dress, and looks at me questioningly. I nod. I want him to carry on. Thunder pulls the neckline of my dress even lower until he can pop out my bra-clad bust and tuck my dress under it.
I drag in a deep breath. My chest expands and pushes my breasts more proudly forward. I release it slowly, controlling the panic bubbling and swirling inside of me. No one has seen me less than fully dressed in so many years. What’s he going to think of my body?
Thunder is completely focused on the revealed flesh. I don’t know if he has even realised how nervous I am. He doesn’t stop at the dress—he dips his hand in between my boob and the black lace of my bra.
My nervous gulp morphs into a desire-filled moan as his fingers mould and clasp my breast, his palm brushing my hard nipple. He pulls up and extracts the flesh from its cage. He strokes it reverently with his thumb then extends his neck to plant his lips on me again. Thunder wiggles on the sofa to trail those kisses lower down and curses when his knees knock mine.
“Going down.” He chuckles and kneels on the floor. Pushing my knees apart, he crawls between them, meets my gaze and winks. Before I can think or speak he grabs my naked breast once more and his lips gently caress and press down over the swell of my boob, only stopping when they find my nipple. Thunder opens his mouth and takes the whole of it inside, sucking and slurping and groaning in equal measure.
I can’t stop the keening noises I make. His strong sucking action pulls through my body and I feel the desire building and pooling between my thighs. It’s so strong, so overwhelming that I reach out and grab his shoulders, desperately needing something to hold on to.
Thunder’s eager sucks are interwoven with nibbles. The graze and nip of his teeth stings, but that somehow heightens the pleasure. Without taking his mouth away from me, he eases his hand into the other cup of my bra and releases my second breast to sit against his hand, the underwire of my bra cradling and digging into the underside of both boobs.
Redirecting his attention, he kisses over the hillock of the newly freed breast, seeking out the nipple to suck and nibble and bite. I run my fingers through his hair and across the shaved side of his head, tracing the outline of the lightning bolt, finally accepting that this is happening.
Thunder traces a hand over my waist, skims his fingers down my thighs and stops when he encounters naked flesh. I may be above him, might be positionally the one in control, but inside I’m anything but. I’m completely submissive to his whims and desires. I’ve given myself over to lust.
What a relief.
It’s hard work being grown up and in control all the damn time. Everyone needs the opportunity to just let go.
He rucks up my skirt and I push myself towards him, craving more of his touch. He fans his fingers out across my thigh and I mentally urge them higher and higher. Maybe he hears my internal cries as he slips his fingers up and the tips soon encounter the gusset of my knickers. They move gently, caressing my mound and catching my labia through the cotton. I’m sure Thunder can feel how wet my knickers are, and I am even hotter and wetter underneath them.
I’m disappointed when his lips leave my breasts, but when they reappear on my inner thigh just above my knee I’m excited by the change of location.
His lips follow the inside of my thigh, and as he pushes higher his shoulders push against my knees and press them wider. My breath escapes in rushed pants of anticipation.
Thunder drags the material of the knickers to one side, exposing my wet, engorged pussy. I flush, a little apprehensive at him seeing me so intimately.
His first licks are tentative, I think, because of my position on the sofa. I scooch forward, my butt against the leather making a high pitched squeaking sound.
He chuckles and thanks me, taking any embarrassment out of the situation. His kisses continue in a far less hesitant manner. Splitting my lips with his tongue, he delves deeper. It’s so sexy, I am awash with passion and rock against his face, wanting to feel the push and pull of his tongue inside me.
Moments later I change my mind as he finds the little nub of my clit. I want him to keep doing that, hitting that spot, strumming and building the tempo just with that rhythm. I convey that to him by reaching down and winding my fingers in his hair, holding him close.
He takes the direction, continuing to run his tongue up and down, making me whimper and whine with the building aches, and the desperation for release heightens. I forget everything but my need and thrust myself up against his mouth, faster and faster until I come with a loud groan.
I let go, my whole body relaxing in response to the release. Thunder scrambles up, perches a knee on the sofa between my thighs and leans in to kiss me. I smell my musk, then taste it, a bolt of lust running through me again at the reminder of what he’s just done.
“I wanna fuck you so bad,” he pants between kisses.
“Then fuck me,” I reply, “fuck me now.”
It takes him seconds to open his jeans and push them down. I guess he had a condom in his pocket because the next thing I hear is the crinkle of a pac
ket and when I look he’s pulling a condom free.
Looking down I see how eager he is, his cock hard and straining forward, the tip gleaming with pre-cum. I split my legs wider for him, desperate to feel him inside me.
He doesn’t take it slowly at all, but then he knows how wet I am. He drives into me forcefully and I yelp my enjoyment as he stretches and fills me.
“Jesus, Josie,” he groans. “You’re so wet.”
“You did it to me,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him closer.
“Oh, I’ve only just started,” Thunder growls and thrusts hard into me several times in rapid succession, taking my breath away with the power, pleasure rolling through me. I drag my nails down his back and he fucks harder.
“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, pushing his nose under my hair and burying his face in my neck. He peppers it with kisses and nibbles my earlobe. His pants tickle and I’m surrounded by his desire, consumed by his need.
Every part of me wants him to come. I want to feel his joy, his every move is warm ecstasy and I’m perfectly content to let him use me in any way he needs. I hold onto him through his varied thrusts—I know he’s trying to make the experience last and I am very happy about that.
When he builds up the speed further, lifts his head back and curves himself away from me, I know he’s close. My hands rest on his hips and my eyes that had been closed languidly through the rapture, flutter open. His face is taut with need and my body tightens when I realise how far lost in lust he is.
I watch him come. He tightens and holds himself within me, grunts, then groans. His jaw slackens and flows into a soft smile as his orgasm melts away. Thunder relaxes and rests his body on me, his chest heaving with exertion.
Our combined breathing is all I can hear and I revel in the post-sex glow. I’d forgotten how good it feels. The euphoria of mutual pleasure.
“Fancy a pizza?” he asks.
“Hell yeah!” I reply.
The contentment is complete.
Chapter Three
British Bad Boys: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set Page 30