HOGTIED: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Satan's Chaos MC)

by Nicole Fox

  “These things are one of my favorite snacks. I love these things.”

  Francesca’s face went serious all of a sudden, her eyes black in the dancing firelight. “I — Logan, thank you for all of this. For showing me your home. It means a lot. I — I’ve been wanting to — ” She paused for a moment, looking over the darkened landscape. “I’ve been hoping to get to know you better.”

  Logan glanced down at the ground, breaking a Cheeto in half. “There’s nothing much to get to know; my life isn’t glamorous or anything. It’s not like yours.”

  “But if it’s important to you,” she said, her voice wavering, “then I think it’s important, too.” Francesca turned away from him, her eyes studying the stars, which were coming on in force on this clear night. “They are important, because I love you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Francesca

  Well, now that she said it out loud, it sounded silly. Just putting it out there like that. Logan didn’t seem like the type of person to say those things to anyone, no matter what he felt. And Francesca had just made it weird. It would be even more weird to apologize or take it back now. “Shit. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.”

  Logan was still silent, and Francesca couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Silence reigned over their little campsite, the only sounds coming from the crackle of the fire pit.

  After a long moment, Logan brushed his fingers over her arm, making her jump a little in surprise. “Do you mean it?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and something like awe.

  Francesca let out a long breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Of course I do, Logan. I followed you out here, didn’t I? Risked my reputation to keep you out of jail. Did you think I did that for fun?”

  He chuckled. “Might be a mistake, saying you’re in love with a criminal, Francesca. What will people say?” his fingers caressed circles up and down her arm; she shivered, but not from the chill.

  “I don’t care what anyone says,” she answered, her voice thick with emotion.

  All of a sudden, Logan was kissing her, his mouth hungry, his hands holding her face pressed closer to his. “Francesca, I — I love you,” he whispered.

  And Francesca’s heart soared, swelling until it pressed against the confines of her chest. Everything ached, everything felt heady and light and beautiful. She was filled with the dizzying feeling of having drunk too much wine too fast. Filled with the thrill of driving too fast on an empty highway. She could feel the whole world spinning under her feet, and yet it seemed to all be frozen in place, holding its breath.

  With a cry, she threw herself forward, claiming his lips again, her tears turning their lips salty as they spilled down her face.

  “He loves me. I love him.” The sound of him saying he loved her echoed inside of her skull.

  There was a part, a tiny part of her in the dark recesses of her mind that whispered that Logan couldn’t love her. That they couldn’t belong together. But she told that tiny shadow in the back of her brain to go take a long hike off of a tall cliff.

  For now, all that mattered was the crackle of the fire, and his body close to hers. Logan, with a fire in his eyes hotter and brighter than the one that burned in the fire pit, tore off both of their clothing with a fervor Francesca had never witnessed in him before. His buried his face against the curve of her neck while hard, bruising fingers caressed every inch of her skin. Gasping, Francesca clung to him, her mouth kissing every inch of skin she could reach. Her lips traveled across his tattooed shoulders and up that beautiful, long neck of his. His scent was thickest here, that spicy raw scent of the man she loved.

  She inhaled deeply; she never wanted to forget this scent for as long as she lived.

  Sliding down his body, Francesca kissed every inch of him. Her mouth traveled along his arms, her teeth nibbling along the ridges of his arms and his wrists. One at a time, keeping her eyes locked with his, Francesca pulled each one of his fingers into her mouth, suckling them gently. Logan shuddered under her ministrations, his eyes hooded and dark with lust. But he let her take control, perhaps curious to see what she would do.

  She continued, caressing the curves of his chest and stomach muscles with teeth, lips, and tongue, tracing the long lines of his tattoos with her mouth. He made a small noise in the back of his throat as her kisses moved south down his perfect body. Logan’s hands came to rest on her shoulders and she got to her knees, bending over him for better access to his hips, his thighs, and eventually, the throbbing cock that stood at attention between his legs.

  Admiring that wonderful dick for a moment, Francesca tentatively ran her fingers over the spongy head of his glorious cock, unable to believe how soft the skin was that wrapped around him like silk. She pressed her lips to the head, kissing it softly. Logan’s hands began to move as she made out with his dick. He massaged her shoulders with his strong hands, moving up her back as Francesca took a hold of his manhood in one of her hands, squeezing gently as she put the tip of him in between her lips.

  Moaning, Logan took a hold of her hard enough to bruise. He pulled her to one side, giving him access to her pussy as she swallowed him, her mouth watering as she caressed him with her questing tongue. He fit into her willing throat, her lips sliding all the way to the base of him before pulling back up. Logan quivered underneath her.

  His fingers traveled her body as she sucked him, her head bobbing in a slow, sensual rhythm. His thumb found its way inside of her, nearly making her scream as she swallowed him again. The finger slid in and out of her wet opening, caressing her g-spot and sending pleased shivers through her whole, quaking body.

  The night air was cold against her boiling hot skin as Logan laid back, pulling one of Francesca’s legs effortlessly over to the other side of his head. She spread her legs for him willingly as she blew him. Much to her delight, she felt Logan’s tongue slide in between her legs, finding all of those spots that made her scream and twitch.

  “Oh God,” she said into the thin, night air. She ground shamelessly against his mouth, mewling into his cock like it was a microphone. “Logan, I love it when you eat me out,” she whispered, her voice ragged from pleasure. “But I need you inside of me. Right now.”

  Logan chuckled against her clit, sending thrills through her whole body. “Right now?”

  “God, please, yes.” She knew she was begging but couldn’t seem to stop herself.

  “As the lady wishes.”

  # # #

  Logan

  Fuck, everything Francesca did was hot. Logan climbed out from underneath her, getting to his knees as she stayed on all fours. Francesca was nearly panting with desire, her pussy dripping and ready for him to enter. He grabbed his cock in his left hand, guiding himself into her beautiful, tight cavern as she begged him to fuck her.

  It was too much, but not enough. No, Logan would never have enough of Francesca. Even if he had her every day for the rest of their lives, it still wouldn’t be enough. He’d still dream about sinking deep into her body as she cried his name like a prayer into the night’s sky. Sliding into her slick pussy from behind almost made him cum right then; he had to pause for a moment to collect himself, to force himself not to end this too quickly.

  “Logan!” Francesca begged, her hands clamping hard onto the picnic blanket below them. “That feels so good.”

  Logan put his thumb into his mouth, licking the taste of her off of his fingers. She was salty and sweet and, oh God, she was everything he had ever wanted.

  He slid in and out of her body with a rhythm that seemed so natural and right. Everything about her seemed to be a puzzle piece in his life that was missing from the beginning; she was a part of his soul and their flesh melded together perfectly, like this was meant to be.

  Francesca’s body gripped him hard as he thrust into her from behind, the cold autumn air caressing his skin like a thousand fingers. The fire burned down to embers as he watched, leaving the beautiful views visible in the moonlight. The s
tars twinkled, making the night almost seem alive around them.

  Moaning, Francesca pressed her face into the soft cotton of the picnic blanket, her cries muffled as she thrust back against his hips with her own, forcing Logan’s cock deeper and harder inside of her.

  Grinning wickedly, Logan leaned back, picking Francesca up and pulling her into his lap. He slid her down carefully onto himself, moaning a little as her silky, wet insides gripped him again. Francesca gasped, glancing over her shoulder as she moved her hips in an experimental circle. The cry that spilled from her mouth lit every nerve of Logan’s on fire, and he lifted his hips, slamming into her from underneath as she rode him.

  “Holy shit, Francesca,” Logan groaned, the feel of her hips sliding along his was undoing him. Soon he would be too far gone to stop from tipping over the edge. “Francesca, Francesca,” he whispered, “I love you, Francesca.”

  The woman, so perfect and beautiful, graceful and lovely, inhaled sharply, slamming her hips against his as she shuddered to a halt. Her body closed around his cock like a vice, caressing him, stroking him, until he climaxed, too.

  Francesca made a long, slow moan in the back of her throat as she panted, her head thrown back in quiet, loving ecstasy. Logan suddenly wished he had a camera and could capture this moment forever. But instead, he lay there, tangled up with her as the cold air swept over their little campsite.

  After a few minutes to catch her breath, Francesca turned and collapsed on top of him. “Let’s say we build that fire back up before we freeze to death, okay?”

  So he did, the two of them cuddling and stoking the fire until well past midnight.

  And there was nowhere in the world either of them would have rather have been.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Francesca

  “It’s unfortunately a necessity. I did sign a contract,” Francesca said, curling a little closer to Logan. “If I don’t fly home in the next few days, they will come after us here, and that is the last thing I want. Having a camera crew follow me around, we’d get all sorts of extra attention.”

  Sighing, Francesca secretly wished she could just quit the show. But she’d already put most of the money they paid her for this next season into Diamond Savoy, getting ready for the next fall season of fashion. “Perhaps after that, I’ll quit the show. Let them film without me. I’m tired of playing the dumb blonde celebutante with way more money than sense.”

  But she didn’t tell Logan that. Not yet. “Besides, you’re a free man now, so you can come with me. We can fly out tomorrow and be home before shooting on Thursday.”

  Logan frowned at the ceiling. “You really want me to be a part of your reality TV show?”

  Francesca sat up in bed to look down at him, the sheets sliding off of her naked body to reveal her breasts. She watched with amusement as Logan’s eyes immediately slipped to her nipples, then back to her face. There was a wicked grin on his lips as Logan sat up just enough to run a teasing tongue around the nipple of her left breast, sending lightning bolts through her veins.

  Francesca leaned forward, giving Logan better access to her breasts. She closed her eyes, sighing happily as Logan continued to suckle her, his lips and tongue teasing every sensitive inch of her breast. “Oh course I want you to be part of it,” she moaned, throwing her head back. “You are my reality.”

  Logan sat up, his lips moving north to find her neck, but his hands moved lower. She was already wet for him by the time his fingers had gotten far enough down her body to slip inside of her. All of her breath went out of her in a rush. “Yes,” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck, “but I am not really reality show material.”

  Gasping, Francesca clung to Logan as he slid another finger inside of her body. It felt amazing, even though she was still sore from all of the sex they’d had the night before. Logan was an endurance man, always trying to make her cum as many times as possible before finishing himself. Never in her life had Francesca ever met a man who could satisfy her so completely or took so much pleasure in doing so.

  “I think,” she gasped out as he threw her back against the bed and buried his face between her legs without warning, “that the producers would — Ah! — love you as much as I do.”

  His mouth plundered her over and over, bringing her over the edge in record time before diving in again. “I’m not sure I want to be in reality TV, Francesca,” Logan answered, his voice rough with desire. His tongue continued to shake her whole body as he slid his index finger into her pussy and his thumb into her ass, stroking both in sync.

  She screamed something, her body throbbing in time with his tongue and his fingers. He was playing her like a harp, exciting all sorts of exquisite sounds with his very talented hands and mouth. “What do I have to do,” she moaned, her hands clawing at the sheets as Logan picked up the pace, “to get you to come home with me?”

  He chuckled, and the sound of it vibrated through her body through his tongue, sending her over the edge again. As she screamed and cried out, Logan said, “You could beg; that usually gets me to do whatever you want.”

  She begged and pleaded, crying out his name as he slipped inside of her body once again.

  It was several hours before they finished, cleaned up, and packed up the hotel room. Francesca had been in this awful city for so long, she’d actually come to like it, and felt a pang of regret leaving the ugly little thing behind. “I mean, I’ve been here for what, almost a month? And that whole time, Logan has been trying to make me like this hell hole. Maybe he succeeded a little.”

  She chuckled to herself, picking up one of her dresses from the floor and bundling it into her bag. Logan was in the shower, humming softly to himself as he washed up. Francesca smiled at the sound. Until something stopped her cold in her tracks. She stopped dead in the middle of packing, her mouth agape as she remembered what she had just been thinking a second ago.

  “A month. We’ve been here a month.” It was true; she’d run out of birth control pills two weeks ago and had to have her prescription sent over here. But in the intervening week, while she took the placebo pill, she hadn’t had a period.

  Her hands shook as she glanced through her bag; she was remembering right; the box of tampons in her luggage was completely untouched.

  “This is worse than late; I missed the whole period all together. Maybe it was stress?” Panic rose in her chest, and Francesca had to sit down. Forcing herself to breathe, Francesca tried to calm herself. “Yes, it must have been stress. From everything going on with Logan and him being arrested.”

  But her hands still quivered.

  She stood back up again, trying to push the thought from her mind. But there was a very insistent voice in the back of her head that wondered if she was going to have Logan’s child.

  Logan’s child. The thought didn’t fill her with fear, but excitement. If there was a child on the way, she would be ready for it. And she would keep it, no matter what.

  Running her fingers over her stomach, she smiled a secret smile before going back to packing for their trip.

  # # #

  Logan

  “I wish I knew something about reality TV.”

  Somehow, Francesca had convinced him to take the flight home with her. Somehow, he’d gotten on this plane without even considering what being on a TV show about their lives would be like. Now, somehow, he was sitting on the couch, listening to the camera crew talk about how they would introduce him into the show.

  Surprise, surprise, there was little about “reality” TV that was actually real. They spent an unbelievable amount of time choreographing certain scenes to make each and every moment of the Savoy family’s life into some exciting montage. It wasn’t the fact that scenes were incredibly fake that bothered him, it was the bickering between the writers and producers and Diane that eventually started to get under his skin. Irritated, Logan went outside for a smoke, only to have the cameras follow him to catch a few candid shots of him “being a badass.” Unsure of
how smoking made him a badass, Logan shrugged and let them do whatever they wanted. If he was going to stay with Francesca, this would be his new reality, so he would have to force himself to get used to it.

  Even more irritated than he was before his smoke, Logan stepped back into the Savoy household in an uproar. Diane was screaming at the top of her voice about “cowards” and Francesca’s brother Marston was watching the scene with amusement from the sidelines. Francesca looked so angry, her face blood red and twisted with fury.

  Logan wanted to protect her from whatever had happened to make her so mad, so he took a step forward before he had to stop himself.

  Because the person who had set Francesca off turned out to be Davis Thorne.