I Need A Bad Boy: A Collection of Bad Boy Romances

by Sophie Brooks

  His fingers slide over my heated core, making me twitch at the electric sensations from his light, grazing touch.

  It’s almost too much for me.

  Then he starts exploring me there, slipping one finger inside me, letting out a deep groan as he invades my slick, heated core with his long, hard digits.

  He slides his finger in and out, curling it every now and then and taking me closer to snatching his head bald as my grip tightens on his hair.

  “I can definitely feel your arousal too,” he says almost mockingly. “Your pussy’s squeezing my finger, pulsing against it. You feel so tight. You’re not a virgin, are you?”

  None of your business, pal.

  But I know it’s rhetorical anyway so I don’t say anything, waiting for him to give me what I want.

  Please just push it in. Just push your cock in my dripping wet…

  “My cock wants in there so badly—but not before I taste you,” he says, then before I can think or say or do anything, his mouth has captured my cleft, making me arch my back and cry out loudly in surprise and pleasure.

  My brain shorts and I start to see white spots.

  Soon I’m just a writhing, bucking mass of reaction to his warm, slithering tongue.

  I become dimly aware of him lining up the head of his cock with my begging entrance and become fully aware again once he starts pushing it inside me.

  He shoves it all the way in so that we’re practically pelvis to pelvis before he starts pulling it out and slamming it back into me with delicious rhythm.

  His hard, thick cock slides against my hungry walls in delicious massage, reaching parts of me that will rocket me into orgasm soon as he plows into me.

  I try not to look into his eyes as I pant and whimper while he drives his huge cock in and out of my warm, wet canal.

  He surprises me with a gentle brush of his thumb on my sensitive nub, and all hopes of holding out longer fly out the window as he takes me to clitoral orgasm, then makes me come again the same time he does from deep inside as he fucks me harder and faster.

  I moan loudly as our bodies contract against each other, the stranger sunk balls-deep in me as he comes with a deep, masculine groan, his cock throbbing inside me, my walls pulsing against him.

  I experience brief panic as it occurs to me for the first time that he hadn’t whipped out protection—my brain stopped processing properly once he got me going, and now I’m paying for my momentary lapse.

  My mind starts going a mile a minute till I remember how easy it is to get Plan B.

  He collapses on top of me, and it feels so delicious to have his hard body against my soft curves, I wrap my arms around him and hold him there, smiling like an idiot.

  “Shit, are you on the pill?” he suddenly asks about a minute later, trying to look at me.

  “Yeah,” I lie, not looking at him.

  * * *

  “I don’t even know your name,” the guy says with a contented and alarmingly gorgeous smile as we finally disentangle ourselves, his cock finally leaving me.

  I miss it immediately.

  “Jewel,” I say easily.

  It just popped into my head, but now I have to remember it for a few minutes.

  I hardly ever use my real name.

  That was one of the first things Taylor taught me—never use your real name.

  “Do they really need to know it? The answer is usually no because ultimately, it doesn’t matter. Struck up a conversation on a bus? It’s likely you won’t see that person again. No need to know. Going on a first date? Romantic relationships are a liability. It won’t last, it won’t matter in the long run. Only harm can come from them being traced to you and them knowing your name. Some dude you fuck really doesn’t need to know.”

  When people have neither your real first nor your last name, and sometimes, not even your real hair or eye color, you’re a hell of a lot harder to track down.

  This guy already knows what I really look like since I shed my wig and contacts and washed off my moles.

  “I’m Axel,” he says, reminding me that I neglected to get his name too.

  Axel. I like that. Sounds pretty strong. Solid.

  Part of me wants to tell Axel my real name, but I squash the urge.

  I want him to know the real me for some odd reason, and that’s an insane thought if ever there was one.

  I mean, at some point, he’ll realize I’ve relieved him of his watch.

  Luckily, if he notices it’s gone too soon, he’ll assume he’s at fault somehow.

  The best part of having booked this suite is that, despite all the usual easy indicators for people to trust me, the fact that I’m here means I must have money too.

  So why would I swipe anything?

  “I’m definitely willing to share the suite,” I say to him. “But it comes with a price.”

  “Wait, you’re exacting sexual favors in order for me to stay in this room?” he says with mock outrage. “I can live with that,” he finishes happily.

  What a fool—he’s already looking too attached. What’s that genuine smile all about?

  I try to ignore the part of me responding to it but it’s persistent and worrying me a little.

  Shit, what did I get myself into?

  I start panicking a little; I need to get out of here for more reasons than one.

  But first, I need to get him out of here.

  “You’ve exhausted me,” I say lazily with a slow smile. “I think I actually have to take a nap to recuperate. Oh god, this is so embarrassing.”

  I briefly cover my face, knowing the move makes me look disarming.

  I catch his smile of pride.

  “I’m afraid that comes with this package,” he says with a crude thrust against me.

  I try to roll my eyes, but it actually makes me laugh.

  His adorably sly grin returns.

  Goodness, I could get used to the sight of that.

  Who would have thought the deranged prick who knocked on my door would turn out to have such a beautiful gentle side?

  He was so considerate as a lover—that’s totally rare, isn’t it?

  And now as he smiles, I see no trace of the angry devil who rolled up here, practically frothing at the mouth.

  His hand reaches out and caresses my cheek and my heart pounds in an alarming way.

  I melt into the touch, suddenly saddened that what we have here will be over pretty soon.

  “I hate to leave you,” he says, sounding genuine and making my heart leap. “But I have some friends I left behind who are missing me.”

  “Some friends they are—you could have been pulled in here by some hitman and ‘disappeared.’ Shouldn’t they have already come to check on you?”

  “Well, we happen to amuse ourselves in various ways. They probably agreed on a specific time limit before checking on me while betting on the outcome.”

  He starts counting out on his fingers.

  “Let’s see—Pete probably started the bet at five hundred that I’d return with my tail between my legs within five minutes. Scott probably upped it to a thousand while betting I’d try to negotiate more comps. Nate probably wanted to come get me immediately but they held him back. How will he ever learn? Give him a few minutes, they probably told him, then found ways to stretch those few minutes out.”

  His phone lets out a video game sound—like a gold coin obtained.

  “There you go. See? They care. I’ll let ‘em know I’ll be down soon. Give you enough time to recuperate for round two.”

  I nod with sleepy eyes and a satisfied smile.

  He smiles back at me, his eyes soft.

  Fuck.

  “Don’t get too crazy down there,” I say as if I care. But people love it when it seems you do.

  For some reason, though, it seems sadness passes over his eyes.

  What the heck’s that about?

  “I won’t,” he says way too seriously. “I just have to make an appearance since I dragged th
em all here to begin with. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

  Then he smiles again, before kissing me on my forehead.

  “Me too,” I say with a warm smile back, ignoring the melting within me.

  Chapter 5

  Axel

  Now that’s more like it—this is how you start a trip.

  Just like that, I got my usual place and it came with a bonus this time—a willing hottie.

  And I didn’t even have to pay for any of it! This is the kind of guest service I’m talking about.

  As I watch Jewel drift to sleep, I can’t help replaying some of my moments with her—from the sight of her standing at the door in a teeny towel, to the sight of her toned, slim form beneath me, moaning and writhing as I plunged into her gorgeous body, taking pleasure from the warmth and slickness between her shapely legs. The feel of those beautiful legs wrapped around me, her arms embracing me, her soft breasts against my chest. Her lovely, satisfied smile when our eyes finally met again, after we both recovered from orgasm. The strange warmth running through me whenever my eyes met hers.

  I take a long, satisfied breath.

  It never takes long for me to score, but being with Jewel felt different.

  She didn’t feel like just any woman; I felt like we connected far beyond my hard cock being plugged into her warm body.

  An odd additional layer of satisfaction settled over me while I was with her, like… I’m not really sure how to describe it. Just that she felt sort of like home, and certainly not the one I grew up in.

  Jewel might be the first girl in a long time I take out for longer than a few days.

  Unlike my usual short-term trysts, I’m nowhere near ready to let her go anytime soon—she’s got something going on behind those blue-gray eyes of hers I’m actually curious about.

  I want to know more about her, in general.

  I wonder who she actually is—what kind of name is Jewel?

  I watch her sleep a little longer, still unwilling to leave her presence just yet.

  Then I glance around and spot her belongings.

  I feel a twinge of guilt as I take a step toward them; I shouldn’t go through her shit like that.

  I can almost see my mom’s disapproving face, sharp reproachful dark eyes, thick dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, mouth tightened in judgmental disapproval.

  If there’s one lesson that stuck from my mom, it’s respecting women’s boundaries. And especially—especially—don’t ever go through her purse. Or any bag.

  I turn away. I’ll let Jewel fill me in later.

  I do a quick search for the extra key card for the room and pocket it before heading down to the casino where the guys are, no doubt, already playing some game or other.

  I can’t wait to spill it about what just happened, although I’m a little disappointed no one checked up on me.

  Thankfully, it all worked out, and now I have a hot girl waiting for me to come back, someone I don’t have to worry about wanting me for my money, for sure.

  * * *

  I spot the guys before they spot me and take in their demeanors.

  Nate’s wound up, trying hard not to look so tense, while Peter and Scott couldn’t look more relaxed.

  No surprise there since Nate’s the only one who’s actually attached to me.

  Pete spots me first and breaks out into a wide grin.

  Seeing this, Nate finally relaxes as his eyes find me.

  I’ll give him the details later, but everyone here deserves to know a little about what went down.

  “Hey!” Nate says. “We were worried about you for a second there.”

  “Yeah, I see you guys all came rushing to come to my aid. Glad you didn’t come a-knocking, though—you wouldn’t believe who opened that door.”

  “Something tells me we will,” Pete says dryly in his smooth, deep voice, nursing what looks like whiskey. “I’m guessing things turned out pretty well.”

  Man, I can’t wait to see their faces when I tell them what happened!

  “To put it mildly,” I say. “So I knock and who opens? Gorgeous blonde. Petite but curvy thing with blue-gray eyes and a killer smile. Completely naked.”

  So that last part was a bit of exaggeration, but come on, I have to go for dramatic effect—gotta hook ’em.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Scott says with widened eyes.

  “I’m serious! I mean, not completely nude as she opened the door, obviously, but she was wearing nothing but a tiny towel barely covering her from tits to upper thighs. She was dripping wet too—must’ve just gotten out of the shower. You won’t believe how gorgeous she is, but I guess you’ll see soon since we’ve come to a sort of agreement—we’re sharing the room. Amongst other things,” I add. “She’s apparently staying by herself, believe it or not, and I’m not gonna lie—I didn’t exactly register all the details because next thing I know, we’re tumbling into bed together, towel off, all her lady parts exposed.”

  Pete’s eyes practically pop open and I’m filling with pride.

  “Wow,” Pete says, looking damned impressed, and I can’t help but feel a bit smug.

  I feel like I just ticked something off my bucket list.

  I’d never tell him, but I’m a little jealous of him sometimes.

  Usually, Pete is the first to get laid—before we even get on the plane sometimes.

  His smooth dark brown skin and sharp planes turn heads like nobody’s business.

  Plus, he’s tall and muscular.

  Don’t get me wrong—I have no problem pulling ladies. Anytime I want, day or night, wherever I am, I can find a gorgeous willing chick, but Pete practically makes them faint.

  Right now, though, eat your heart out, Pete. Not that this is a race or anything.

  Scott chuckles.

  “Whoa—that’s some respectful language right there, ‘lady parts.’ You must like her a lot.”

  I ignore the snort of laughter that follows all around.

  “Actually, I do,” I say. “I feel like she’s actually something special. It’s like we connected almost immediately…”

  “We get the picture, buddy—no need to go into details,” Scott says. “We know how it works.” He starts making crude gestures with his hands, sliding one finger into the hole made by two fingers of his other hand.

  “No, I mean—besides that. Yeah, once she dropped her towel, things got fuzzy, and I don’t remember much after that except we had a hell of a time, and I can’t wait to go back up there for some more.”

  “What the hell are you doing down here then?” Pete says.

  “Gotta pace myself,” I say with a slow, wicked smile. “Plus, I didn’t want you guys worrying. And I feel like it’s my lucky night. Mark my words, I’ll make a killing on the blackjack table tonight—I can feel it. I’ll introduce her later so you guys can drool.”

  “Maybe she’s open to other positions, eh? Maybe we can all have a go,” Scott says and my glare stops him cold as a fierce possessiveness takes over me.

  An awkward silence sits for a moment until I force a chuckle to break the unease.

  The mood softens and goes light again.

  I don’t know what got into me.

  We joke like this all the time, but the thought of Jewel looking at any of these guys with the eyes she gave me, the thought of any of them touching her, has me seeing red, and I feel like I’m capable of ripping one of their limbs clean off if they attempt it.

  Despite my fake laugh, I know my message is clear.

  She’s fucking mine.

  “Dude, when something seems too good to be true, it usually is and there’s a catch somewhere. Has no one ever taught you that?” Pete says.

  “Yeah, but in this case, there’s something more going on. I know things moved super fast, but this feels … different. I might even keep her the whole trip,” I add casually, suddenly feeling too exposed. The whole trip’s just three days, and I don’t want to come off like some softie. I ha
ve a rep to maintain. I can’t let anyone know how much Jewel really affected me; I’ll look weak.

  Then Nate suddenly says, “Dude, where’s your watch?”

  “Huh?” I say stupidly as I glance at my wrist.

  I must’ve been hella distracted not to have noticed till now, but can you blame me?

  Still, it’s not just any watch; I’m pretty careful about this one, in particular.

  Nate knows how important it is to me, and he’s probably the only one who noticed it’s gone.

  “Must’ve left it up there,” I say casually, even though I’m panicking a little.

  Yeah, the chick is obviously loaded if she’s staying there, but I’m still wary about leaving shit behind with a stranger—particularly that thing.

  What the hell else did I leave up there?

  I attempt a mental check and realize the stack of hundred-dollar bills I’d been keeping on me is missing.

  Must’ve fallen out as my clothes started coming off.

  I stifle my growing panic.

  I’ll be back up there in a few hours or so for round two with Jewel, so no biggie.

  I let myself relax and ignore Nate’s look.

  “I’m hitting the tables. You guys coming?”

  * * *

  I watch a slim blonde sidle up to Pete, her eyes sparkling in a way I’ve come to recognize.

  “Morris Chestnut, right?” she says and I barely stifle a laugh in time.

  Pete just gives her a slow grin, like You caught me! but he doesn’t say anything.

  He has this uncanny way of leading the ladies on, confirming without actually saying a word of confirmation, managing plausible deniability on a technicality.

  “I never said I was,” he can say each and every time, but by then, it’s too late. They’ve already given up the goods.

  “Oh my god, I love your movies!” the blonde says, her voice getting higher with each word.

  Chances are, she’s lying.

  Maybe she saw one or two movies of whomever she mistook him for, but it doesn’t matter.

  He smiles at her.

  “I try to keep a low profile,” he begins in his smooth deep voice, “but it’s kind of hard.”

  “Oh yeah, I get it totally. I’m surprised I’m the only one who has recognized you so far!”