by Lexi Hunter
Without warning, Maxwell spun me over so that I was the one with my back on the floor now. Somehow, he managed to do that without losing the intimate connection our bodies shared. He kissed me hard and I held onto his neck, craning my face up for more. He laughed and suddenly withdrew himself from me. I felt the emptiness inside me and cringed.
"What—" I began, but he was swooping me into his arms and placing me gently on the bed.
"Ohhh," I moaned, as he climbed on top of me. His legs inched between mine, spreading them even wider apart. His hair fell over his eyes, tickling my face.
I loved the gentle way he touched me but was impatient for the rest of it. I felt empty without him inside me. He brushed some hair from my eyes and kissed my lips. My heart melted. With his lips still locked to mine, he entered my body. My soul erupted, spreading through the air as he plunged deeper into my cave.
Moving back and forth, Maxwell created a frenzy in my body. The heat between my legs was unbearable. It was like the sun was alive down there, pointing all its warmth in one direction. I wrapped my legs around him and used my strength to pull him deeper into me.
I thought our bodies might stick together forever but then he broke free and delivered one great thrust that made my head fall back. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. His hands shot out and found my breasts, squeezing them with satisfaction.
"Once more," I shouted, and Maxwell obeyed. He pulled his hips back a second time and propelled himself so deep inside me I thought he'd entered a hidden cavern known only to spelunkers.
"Aahhhhhhh," we sang together.
The fireworks I'd seen before were nothing compared to the blasts of electricity let loose in my room now. Our bodies tightened against each other. I felt him expand and grow even bigger inside me. I couldn't imagine anything more awe-inspiring than the way our bodies suddenly came together and created our own private fireworks display.
Maxwell fell on top of me, hot and sweating. We'd forgotten to be quiet during the climax of our event and lay perfectly still, listening to each other's breath, waiting to see if anyone came upstairs to see what we were doing. I giggled as he kissed my face, rolling over and pulling me onto his chest. When no one came upstairs, I reached my hand down his body until I felt the mass I was looking for. It hummed as my fingers caressed him.
"Ready for round two?" I asked.
He grinned, his sweet breath filling me once more. "You really want to get that A, don't you? Don't worry. I'll have a gold star waiting for you on Monday."
EPILOGUE
Diploma
"MR. DANVERS." Maxwell looked at me. It was that sharp, dirty look I liked so much. "I'm sorry," I corrected myself, "Professor Danvers."
He looked at me from behind his desk, where I sat on the edge, facing him. No one else was paying us any attention. There were only a couple of weeks of summer school left, and we were all anxious to get out.
"Yes Abbi?" he asked.
I held up my latest essay. A big "D" was written across it in red. "I was wondering if I could redo this paper? I hoped you might be able to help me with it." I stuck my bottom lip out to form the soft pout I knew he found so cute on me.
I couldn't believe that just a couple of months ago I'd been swimming in despair over two idiots like Connor and Tara—who'd already broken up, by the way. They were cheating on each other. Maxwell and I may be an odd match, but we needed each other in ways Connor and I never had.
It wasn't just sex. Maxwell had long harbored feelings that he wasn't adequate as a man, and that's why his wife had cheated on him. I'd had the same worries about myself because of Connor. Maxwell and I had proven to each other—on an almost daily basis—that there was nothing wrong with either of us.
Maxwell made little tsk tsk noises, then said, "Come to my office after class and I'll be glad to help you." I smiled as I slid back behind my desk. My grades had gone way up since Maxwell had started tutoring me on a regular basis. I would have been lost without his guidance. My parents loved that I was getting the individualized attention that I needed and as long as they knew I was with him, no other explanation of my whereabouts was required.
I uncrossed my legs slowly, letting my knees fall apart just long enough for Maxwell to see I wasn't wearing any panties. I'd gotten that trick from him. His eyes almost fell out of his head and I grinned. It was just another way we were rubbing off on each other. I looked quickly around the room then blew him a kiss. He lifted one finger from his pile of papers, catching it like a butterfly, trying to pretend I wasn't there but finding it impossible. I knew the feeling.
***
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EXCERPT: A Bad Boy Surprise: Father's Billionaire Friend
CHAPTER 1
Dad
I STOOD OUTSIDE my father's door, shivering in the cold. My long blonde hair whipped around my head as the wind blew furiously. Somehow, the darkness surrounding me only made the cold more bitter.
Why is he taking so long to answer?
Oh yeah, because he's probably drunk and passed out in there. I banged on the door again. It shook his house, making the windows vibrate.
"Dad, come on! Open up, it's freezing out here!"
January had never been my favorite month. I hated being cold. my father's house might be tiny with parts of the siding crumbling away, but at least I knew it was warm inside. I pounded on the door again. My phone glowed and unlocked the screen to read the text I had just received.
Are you outside my door? — Sincerely, Dad
I typed back: Yes, let me in.
My phone lit up again. It's too late. Come back tomorrow. Or something. —Sincerely, Dad
I sighed. If my teeth weren't chattering, I might have laughed. No matter how many times I explained it to him, Dad didn't seem to understand that there was no need for him to sign his texts like he was signing a letter.
Can't, I typed. I'll be dead tomorrow.
I waited for a response. It was a mini miracle Dad could even text at all. It had taken me three weeks of excruciating tutorial to explain the process to him, but now I felt gratified seeing that my hard work had paid off.
My father and I weren't exactly on the best of speaking terms. He was kind of an asshole. No other way to say it. It wasn't just the crassness of his speech or the way he liked to throw insults at people for fun, it wasn't even the backhanded compliments he was so fond of giving—I remembered how, when Mom had shown him a picture of me alone in my prom dress, he'd said, "Nice dress Ems, you look beautiful. You can hardly even see your fat poke out"—it was the way he spoke to most people like they were nothing more than insects, or maybe toads if they were lucky.
I didn't know where he got off being so high and mighty. He was far from rich and hadn't been particularly attractive during his lifetime, but he still seemed to think he was better than everyone else. But, he was still my dad. I knew he wouldn't want me dead. That I didn't want to die was the only reason I was here now.
Finally, I heard the loud clopping of my father's feet as he moved across the floor. He jerked the door open and I pushed against it before he could change his mind. Luckily for me, Dad wasn't very strong. If he'd still been in his late thirties, I might not have been able to get in. Once he'd turned forty, though, things had started to go downhill for him muscle wise.
The wind whipped against my skin one last time before Dad slammed the door, protesting my intrusion at this late hour. I
rubbed my hands up and down my arms, letting the heat from the house soak into my jacket. Thank God Dad kept it as warm as he did.
"God's sake, Emmie, do you know what time it is? What do you want?"
I nodded, my teeth chattering. Dad stood by the door, waiting for me to go back out the way I'd come in.
"Well?" he asked.
"I know it's late," my teeth clinked together. I tried to reassure them that we were alright now and could stop clacking. We were finally warm. But they wouldn't listen. "They shut the electricity off," I told him.
He blinked. "What electricity?" He looked around his house. The lights shone brightly in the rooms he'd lit coming down the stairs.
"Our electricity," I replied, exasperated. This wasn't gonna be easy. "Mom's and mine."
His face creased for a second then smoothed over. "Oh," he said. "Of course they did. Because your mother's an idiot. You know that don't you?"
I nodded. Anything to make this go faster. Plus, I was still pretty pissed about her running out on me like she had. I hated agreeing with him, but my Mom really was kind of an idiot.
"So what the hell are you here for?" he asked. "Why don't you go to a friend's or something?"
I tried to control my anger. I felt the blood rise to my face and remembered what Counselor Davis had told me my last year of high school after my fight with Shyanne. Count. Always count.
One, two, three, four, five...
I took a deep breath and felt a little better. The counting had been good advice and something I had continued to do even after I'd graduated and started college. I only wished I'd been able to afford to keep going. I might have had a real job now. One that paid me well enough so that I wouldn't have to run to my father every time Mom skipped out on a bill.
"If I had any friends I could have gone to, I would have."
My father shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable.
"Well, where the hell is your mother? She should be the one taking care of this. I don't have any money."
"I'm not asking for money. I'm asking..."
He waited a half second before impatience got the best of him. "What the hell is it? Spit it out already."
"Mom's gone," I said, fighting back the tears rising behind my eyes. I turned my head and wiped away a drop that had spilled over. "She ran off with that new guy she's been seeing. Draven." His name made me physically ill. Draven, which probably wasn't even his real name, was nothing more than a cokehead and a bum. But then, Mom always had known how to pick them. My mind inserted a picture of my father above that running tagline, and I bit back a laugh. Even if I wanted to try and track her down, I'd have no idea where to begin.
"Fuck," Dad said, before walking off towards the kitchen. His house was small and it wasn't hard to see him from where I stood. He took a bottle of scotch from under the counter, pulled the top off, and chugged it like beer. He offered it to me and I took a sip. Hell, I wasn't twenty-one now. Why not?
Then he shuffled back upstairs without a word. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, unsure what to do. Dad only had one bedroom, and this wasn't exactly a warm invitation from him to stay.
A blanket flew down the stairs and hit my face, followed a minute later by a chunky yellow pillow. I guessed that was invitation enough.
"Goodnight," I called. "Thanks." I heard his door close and the lights in the hallway went dark.
CHAPTER 2
Edward
I DREAMT I was being chased by a giant fish with six-inch teeth. At least, it looked like a fish, but when it opened its mouth to eat me it morphed into a man who resembled my father. I opened my eyes, a scream rising in my throat.
Daylight hit me through windows and I turned my head, trying to hide my face. I breathed deeply. It had only been a dream. My nostrils flared as something bitter and sweaty invaded my nose.
Something stunk.
I lifted my head off the pillow and realized, for the first time, how disgusting it was. A small, lonely patch of white on one corner made it seem as if the deep urine color saturating the rest of it was its natural color, the white corner nothing more than a stain. And it smelled like bacon. Old bacon.
I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes and decided to feel sorry for myself all day. Why shouldn't I? All my classmates had graduated high school and gone on to college. I had graduated high school three years ago with dreams of being a photographer and failed at life since then. Worse than that. I hadn't even been given the opportunity to fail because I could only afford to go to college for one semester. For that semester, at least, I'd gotten all A's.
Now I was stuck sleeping on Dad's couch. I buried my head in my hands and sobbed silently. Why couldn't Mom have at least paid our rent? I hadn't mentioned the eviction notice to Dad last night. Or the fact that my mom had actually left a little over a week ago. What did it matter to him anyway? If I hadn't of run out of food... if the electricity hadn't been shut off and our apartment so cold... I would never have come to him in the first place.
I wiped at my eyes but it didn't stop the tears. Dad's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Want some coffee?"
I couldn't believe he was actually offering to make me coffee. I was afraid it might be some kind of trick.
I opened my mouth, "Su—"
A man's deep voice cut me off. "Sure," it said. "Thanks." I didn't recognize the voice.
My heart skipped a beat. I started to pant. I looked down at my chest, trying to picture my heart and lungs beneath my skin as they tottered on the edge of hyperventilation.
What was the matter with me? Who was that in the kitchen with my dad?
The voice spoke again. "Think I might take the new Porsche for a spin while the weather holds up." It was the voice of a singer. One of those old crooners Dad had always played when I was little, before he'd turned into a drunken asshole. Only a singer could sound so sultry and seductive this early in the morning, like fine wine running down your throat, sweet and rich.
My hands shook as I stood from the couch, forgetting that my face was still wet from the tears that had poured forth only seconds before. I didn't know what was going on with me. Completely ridiculous. I'd heard of love at first sight... but love at first sound?
Completely ridiculous, I told myself again.
The man started talking again, and kept talking.
"It was freezing last night. I still can't believe how warm it is this morning. I gotta get the Porsche going before she freezes up on me, it's been so cold this winter."
My body clenched under my clothes. I felt heat rising from my toes, sliding up my legs, creeping between my thighs.
Who the hell was that in my father's kitchen?
I steadied myself, counting to five, and walked towards them. I was still in the clothes I'd worn yesterday.
"Hmmph," Dad grunted as I walked into the kitchen.
The man opposite him turned and smiled at the sound of my footsteps. "Hello," he crooned. "You must be Emma." When he said my name my heart almost stopped. I couldn't believe the voice I'd heard was coming from this man before me and not some dream.
His hair was pure black—even darker than the sky had been last night when I'd arrived at Dad's. His eyes were a beautiful, piercing blue with specks of white making them shine from within, the color of soft ocean foam lapping against a shore. I searched them for any hint of contact lenses, thinking a color like that had to be fake, but found nothing to indicate they weren't real. If I hadn't seen those eyes myself, I would never have believed a color like that could exist in nature.
I'd heard of men and women that oozed sex appeal, but this man didn't just ooze it, he was made of it.
He stood up from the table, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you." His hands were a rich golden brown that screamed of sunshine and fresh air. Like a surfer or a construction worker. Muscles swelled under his tight fitting shirt, making my body react in a frenzied overload of euphoria that I knew would prove embarrassing if I couldn't make it stop.
&nbs
p; "Hello," I said. It came out in a whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hello. I'm... um, Emma." For a second I had forgotten my own name.
I reached for his hand and when he took mine in his it was like a warm electric current passed between us. His eyes flickered ever so slightly in surprise and for a moment I thought he might not let go.
He cleared his throat now too. "Edward Kane," he said, smiling again. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes, they were too overcome with shock.
Dad grunted again and Edward let go, though his fingers lingered over mine just a second longer before dropping to his side.
"Friend of mine," Dad murmured to me from behind his coffee cup.
I did the only thing you could do when you realize the only man you've ever wanted was twice your age and your dad's best friend. I went to take a shower.
***
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EXCERPT: Still a Bad Boy: My Alpha Rider
CHAPTER 1
Colt
I HATED MY father's best friend. I moved through the cigar smoke filling my father's living room, making a point to cough behind Colt Arsen's head. It was as if riding a motorcycle had turned him a chimney. The worst of the smoke always came from his direction. Why can't they smoke outside?
"It's cold outside," my father said, reading my expression. I sighed, he had an uncanny knack for knowing what I was thinking, which was yet another reason why I hated living here.
"Cold in June?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in that way I knew irritated the hell out of him.
"Yes," he shot back. "June is always cold when you live in Washington, Maddie."
I turned away from the poker game, shaking my head. Bronze curls fell into my eyes and I pushed them away as I sat down on the couch. I was annoyed with Erik for canceling our date so last minute. If he'd known what I'd been planning, I was sure he would have gone to whatever lengths necessary to drop what he was doing and be with me.