Ex-Con Times Two
Page 1
Ex-Con Times Two
A Bad Boy MFM Romance
Jay S Wilder
Bella Love-Wins
Contents
Blurb and Author’s Note
Prologue - Katelynn
1. Hunter
2. Katelynn
3. Jake
4. Hunter
5. Katelynn
6. Katelynn
7. Katelynn
8. Jake
9. Katelynn
10. Hunter
11. Katelynn
12. Katelynn
13. Hunter
14. Jake
15. Hunter
16. Katelynn
17. Hunter
18. Katelynn
19. Katelynn
20. Jake
21. Katelynn
22. Katelynn
23. Hunter
24. Katelynn
25. Jake
26. Katelynn
27. Katelynn
28. Hunter
29. Katelynn
30. Jake
31. Katelynn
32. Hunter
33. Jake
34. Katelynn
35. Hunter
36. Katelynn
37. Katelynn
38. Jake
39. Katelynn
40. Epilogue - Hunter
41. Epilogue - Katelynn
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Copyrights
Owned by the Baller (Originally Published in Wicked Ways - A Begging for Bad Boys Collection
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
The Billionaire’s Empire Complete Series
Part One
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Part Two
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
The Billionaire’s Temptation & Seduction Complete Series
Part One
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Part Two
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
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Ex-Con Times Two
Copyright © 2017
Jay S. Wilder
Bella Love-Wins
All rights reserved.
Blurb and Author’s Note
Blurb Hunter
We’re supposed to be on our best behavior, but things are about to get filthy with our sweet little virgin.
When you’ve had a rough life like I have, doing hard time is pretty much a guarantee.
I’m an ex-con.
It’s one of those dirty little secrets I hate sharing.
I don’t expect any breaks or a happy ending, but good fortune comes our way for the first time in, well… ever.
Then I meet Katelynn.
A good girl.
Katelynn is sweet, shy, and way too young. She’s barely legal, but I can’t help wanting to live out every filthy fantasy on her innocent, virgin body.
Correction. We can’t.
Because my ex-con best friend, Jake, and I like to share one woman.
Our Kitten.
We find out that someone wants to harm her. Now that we’ve claimed Katelynn for ourselves, no one gets to touch her.
Not on our watch.
To hell with parole violations. We’ll break every rule to keep her alive.
*Authors’ Note: Ex-Con Times Two is a full-length standalone with no cliffhangers and a guaranteed happy ever after ending. This is a bad boy MFM ménage romance that is all about the woman. There are no M/M scenes. This story is all about TWO hot bad boy ex-cons who fall for the same woman.
The sound of Jake turning the lock on the door behind him reminds me that he’s here. With us. Watching. My eyes open part way and meet his. He doesn’t look away. Those eyes pierce my skull and hold me in one spot. He’s liking this? I guess he’s into watching.
And I must be into being watched.
The idea makes me drenched between my thighs, dripping wet and wondering how in the world I’m so calm about all of this. Good Lord. I’m kissing one man and lusting over another at the same time. How did I ever get myself into this situation? And what does it mean? Do I like Hunter? Or Jake? And hell, what on earth are they thinking about me? About us?
There’s no time to explore these questions right now. Jake closes the distance between us with two ground-eating steps. He drags off his hat and rests it on the counter beside the sinks as Hunter breaks our kiss and steps aside for Jake to replace him. Jesus Jones, they’re taking turns on me? Hunter’s okay with letting Jake…have me? I’m so turned on from their proximity and as a result of this out of the box sensual experience that I don’t want to stop.
Kissing one man is hot.
Kissing two men back-to-back? Well it’s sexy as hell.
I tilt my face up towards Jake’s. My lips part. My breathing is quickened as Jake lowers his face to mine, and takes my lips in a possessive, hungry, open-mouthed kiss—right in front of Hunter. His hands wander up to my shoulders, slowly making its way down my arms, until they loop around my waist and drag me in tight. Then I feel a flood of warmth behind me. It’s Hunter. His chest is touching my back, and the heat of his groin is at my lower back, and oh God, his hands are covering my shoulders from behind. My fingers grip the sides of Jake’s t-shirt for balance. I’m dizzy from not breathing, but I don’t want to stop for something as minor as air.
After some time, Jake pulls from the kiss, his hazel eyes shining down at me like the sun as I gasp for air.
Hunt
er nudges his lips at my ear again. “We want you, Katelynn.”
My stomach does a full flip. “Both of you?” I ask, still looking up at Jake.
“Yes,” Jake rumbles. “At the same time. We like to share.”
“You want to share…me?”
He nods, and I have to suck in a breath and hold it in tight. Jake and Hunter want me. At the same time. And the kicker is, now that he’s said it, I can’t get the image of two men taking me out of my head.
Two men.
For my first time.
I can barely breathe.
My knees are weak.
I’m falling apart... at the hands of two men.
1
Hunter
Two months earlier
I’m sick of this shit.
I slam my palms into the kitchen’s swinging doors. They fly open and smack against the wall. An old gray-haired lady sitting at table ten looks up from her soup with wide eyes. I can practically feel my boss, Charlie Romanov, boring a hole through my back as he escorts me to the front door to make sure I leave the premises. He never gets tired of breathing down my neck, hot and angry like a bull in the ring. Which is bullshit, because I’m the one who should be pissed. He’s not going to make a scene in front of the customers. Or maybe he will. Either way, it’s not my problem anymore.
I stalk across the diner’s linoleum floor and toss my line cook’s apron on the counter. Maggie, one of the day shift waitresses, give me a sad frown.
“Sorry, Mags,” I tell her. “I’m not putting up with his bullshit for another minute.”
Charlie scoffs behind me. His face and pudgy neck turn red. “That’s right, because your ass is fired!” he barks, causing the volume of patrons’ chatter around the diner to lower to whispers. I’m actually impressed that Charlie’s not afraid of making a scene. “Don’t act like you’re walking out of here because you want to!”
“Fuck you and this crappy as fuck hundred-degree kitchen slave labor job, asshole,” I tell him with feeling.
“Get the hell out of here and make sure you don’t come back, dammit.”
“Cocksucker,” I mutter to him under my breath.
As I spin around and shove the door open, the late-May midafternoon sunshine blinds me. I cover my brow with my hand and walk across the asphalt. I can’t feel bad about lying on my job application. What was I supposed to do, tell the truth?
Fuck no. If I did that, I’d never get a job at all.
Not even for the one fucking week of employment Charlie just ended at the diner. Boss man didn’t have to freak out the way he did over finding out the truth. He could have been more understanding about my past. Just because I’ve been to prison doesn’t mean I don’t know how to work hard. I had a life before I went behind bars. I held down jobs and worked my ass off to keep them. But for some people, that will never matter. All they’ll see is the one fucking line on a piece of paper telling them that I served time. It’s like no matter what I do from here on out, my record will mean more to them than anything else.
Getting to my forest green beat-up Chevy truck, I climb into the driver seat, slam the door shut, and crank the window down. I need to face facts. The truth is I put myself in this position. I’m the one who lied on the fucking job application. I’m the one who did time. I’m the one who got caught committing a fucking crime.
This shit is on me.
Charlie and The Blue Diner are far behind me already. They’ll never hear from me again, but I still gotta get the frustration out. I’m lucky I didn’t do worse while in there. Having a temper has never done me well, and being on parole has me walking a thin line. One wrong step and my chance at real freedom might be gone.
As I merge onto the highway, I make a point of cranking up the radio as loud as it gets. With the deep bass making my eardrums shake, I can almost forget about my shitty life.
Almost.
A month out of prison and I’m feeling worse off than I was before going in. Where’s the fucking justice in that?
It’s even less reasonable that most of my week’s pay will go toward gas and expenses, a thought that has me groaning as I pull into the gas station I’ve gotten in the habit of using all week. I can’t even be grateful that it’s Saturday. The place is just about as old as cars themselves. The pumps count the digits with those black ratchet counters that slide by, and the clerk here is always Maude, a friendly old lady who owns the place. She introduced herself to me the very first time I came in and as sad as it sounds, Maude might be the only person I’ve met around here who doesn’t give a damn that I’m on parole.
I pull up to one of the decrepit pumps and hop from the truck. Just a few more days of May to go. You can feel summer pushing in hotter than balls. I wish I could look forward to it. It’ll be my first free summer in a long time. But I can’t celebrate. Not with my nerves stretched tight. I won’t be able to enjoy much of anything until I get another job.
“You back already?” Maude croaks the second I enter the gas station.
I head for the beer cooler in the back. “Got fired.”
She clicks her tongue with her disappointment.
“Yep,” I agree. “It didn’t last long.” I grab my standard six-pack and haul it to the counter. “This and twenty for the truck.”
She rings up my bill while I stare at the news on the TV behind her head. My head spins like a dust storm. It’s hard to plan my next move with fury still pumping through my veins. If I stop and think about it, it’ll knock me on my ass. I’ve got no right to be mad at anyone but myself. But even that level of taking responsibility won’t do me any good. Acknowledging that I’m to blame will only get me so far.
I need money.
I have to find work.
Again.
“See you later, Maude.”
She waves a bony hand in parting. “Something’ll come up. Give it time, sonny.”
I get outside and notice everything is pretty much the same, except for the convertible that’s pulled up to the pump across from mine. Now there’s a distraction. A hot little blonde is standing with her back to me, pumping gas into her cherry red late model Corvette convertible.
Hot car.
Hotter chick.
Together, they’re sexy as fuck.
She’s short, but with curvy hips and a thin waist. There’s plenty of meat there to hold onto. I watch as she runs a dainty hand through her hair that glows like spun gold, and the movement lifts her pale pink top past the waistband of her denim short shorts. On top of the perfect view of her lightly tanned, shapely legs that go on for miles and miles, I get a nice glimpse of her slender waist, and can only imagine how much more I’d see if I were standing in front of her. I probably shouldn’t fantasize. Not if I want my dick to keep from straining my zipper.
As if feeling my gaze, she turns around and locks her sparkling hazel eyes with mine. I don’t mind that she’s caught me checking her out. The way I see it, not looking at this sultry little taste of sunshine would be a real sin. Giving her a nod, I hold her gaze as I walk toward my truck, set my six pack of beer in the cab, and start filling my own gas tank. I run my free hand through my hair, shooting her a slight smile to see how she responds.
Her reaction is promising.
Blondie flutters her eyelashes at me, and her skin flushes as she resumes her focus on the pump. She twists some hair around her finger and looks at the ground. There’s something innocent about her, too. Something that makes my cock twitch with need.
I’m beyond ready to break my fucking dry spell.
Hell, if that’s not enough cause for me to go over there and say hello, I don’t know what is. My mouth starts to salivate. I swallow hard and start stringing words together in my head. When the gas pump finishes filling my hard earned twenty bucks’ worth of gas, I close the gas cap and replace the pump, eyes still riveted on her. The blonde peeks over at me again, but as I take the first few steps to walk over to her, she climbs into her car and drives off.
> Fuck.
Shot down before I can get a word in.
Must be losing my game.
I could have said something sooner, but maybe it’s for the best, considering the sour mood I’m in. I need to keep myself focused, get a stable job I don’t hate, stay out of trouble, and keep my parole officer off my fucking back. I don’t have time for women. I’m also not in the best state of mind for a random hookup. Before I ended up in prison, sex was right up there with my top priorities. Back then, I’d be raring to go. Today, after three years spent without the touch of a woman, it’s as though the stress of needing to get my shit together has put a fucking damper on my game.
Still. That girl.
You don’t run across women like her every day. When the time comes that I can finally make room for a piece of ass, I hope it’s with someone like Blondie.
Jumping into my truck, I leave the gas station and drive off in the opposite direction of my place. I need to get my head straight. A long drive on the back roads with the windows down will help some. Less than an hour into it, I notice my phone is buzzing in the cup holder. A quick glance at the phone screen tells me that I’ve missed a few calls and several text messages from Jake, my best friend, roommate, and partner in crime—literally, because we both spent time behind bars. Jake’s probably waiting for me back at our apartment by now.
For the past few days, he’s been hounding me about skipping the whole job search altogether in favor of a ‘business opportunity’. I’ve been resistant to it because Jake’s business ideas are the reason I did time in the first place. Because of that massive mistake and some other reasons, I shut his ass down each and every time. I ain’t interested, especially now that I’m harboring the image of that sweet little blonde thing in my head.
Turning around at a fork in the road, I drive all the way home thinking about how big Amarillo, Texas is, and wondering what are the chances of running into someone twice in a city of two hundred thousand.
2
Katelynn
My head is spinning.
Savannah’s calling my phone again. I shouldn’t take her call, but she’s my best friend. Plus, she’ll keep hitting redial until I pick up. My smartphone is synced by Bluetooth to the car radio, so I press the call answer button on the touch screen.