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Aurora Hayes is the secret pen name for best selling erotic romance author Ana W. Fawkes.
This book is hot.
This book is wild.
But the heart of it all, this book is truly a romance story.
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BAD HEART
by
Aurora Hayes
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Jade:
Okay, fine, I keep sleeping with him. I’m not supposed to and I cannot help myself. We made a deal once… and broke it.
Things are getting too risky. My father insists that I date an old friend named Hunter. He’s not the geeky kid he used to be. He’s a man now. Kind of handsome. He’s perfect for me. Perfect for my life. Perfect to get rid of all the wrong.
All the wrong that’s Jake.
So Jake and I make another deal. One last time together and that’s it. For good.
Jake:
I shouldn’t have text her. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk. And I shouldn’t have gotten into a bar fight and gotten arrested.
I have nobody to count on except Jade. She’s always there for me. I can’t stop thinking about her. And she can’t get away from me. Even when she tries to force herself to date Hunter, she still comes back to me.
I know things are getting more and more risky, but we both like it. It makes the entire situation hotter.
There’s nothing wrong with it… just as long as we don’t get caught.
1.
(Jade)
I start to scream and he covers my mouth. He thrusts harder, his cock burying itself deeper inside me. I strain my eyes to look back at him as they fill with water. He’s fucking sexy. He’s fucking gorgeous. And he’s fucking me.
The craziest part?
Our parents are in the dinning room, eating.
My father… his mother… married.
Me and Jake… stepbrother and stepsister.
Yet we can’t stop this.
“Fuck,” I manage to whisper as his hand slides away from my mouth.
He pulls back and thrusts again.
His pointer finger rests on my bottom lip. I lick the tip of his finger, wishing it was his cock. I’ve never been like this in my life. The good girl wannabe virgin is dead when Jake is around. He makes me wild. He makes me bad.
I bite at his finger and he growls, thrusting even harder.
He makes me his.
“This one is mine.”
I blink fast and turn my head. Rebecca Preatt - my stepmother - is standing in an elegant dark blue dress that shimmers when she walks. She’s pointed to a black piano that’s on a small platform with a light directly over it.
“Excuse me?” I say, forcing a grin.
“This one is mine, Jade,” Rebecca says. “The last one I played before… well, everything changed.”
She puts her hand to her mouth and blinks.
I stare at her, wondering if I should feel bad. I think of everything Jake has sort of told me about his mother. Most of it - well, all of it - terrible. He seems to think she deserved everything that happened to her.
I’m left stranded on the fence with that. She married my father on an island and nobody told me until they were back, together, and had fucking Jake there to witness my embarrassment. Bad enough being told your father got married and you now had a stepmother… but I had slept with my stepbrother already.
And we didn’t stop there.
I wanted to hate Rebecca for that, but I wasn’t sure what would have become of me and Jake.
Then again, what did it matter? We made an agreement that nothing would ever happen again. Our last time was in the bathroom off the dining room during a dinner. A dinner Jake wasn’t invited to. A dinner he showed up to drunk. A dinner he held my body hostage for or else he would have made an appearance and really messed things up.
That was the end for me.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca says as she blinks fast. “Sometimes it’s just so…”
Her eyes are full of tears.
People start bumping into me. It’s damn photographers, all trying to get a picture of the former professional pianist as she stands next to her prized possession.
I’m bounced to the back of the pack and just stand there.
Rebecca is on a platform and I think she enjoys it. Probably way too much.
After a few seconds, my father appears at her side. Dressed in a nice tuxedo, he slips a hand around her waist, becoming her savior.
“Please,” he says. “Can we give my wife a moment to herself? Do we not all have that one thing in life that can simply bring us to tears?”
There’s complete silence now.
“For me,” my father - the great Thomas Werlen - continues, “well, for me, it’s my daughter.”
He points and everyone turns.
Now I’m frozen like ice in the middle of winter. Subzero rolls through my veins as I stand there.
Do I smile?
Do I cry?
Do I… what the fuck do I do?
After a few seconds, a hand touches my back. I turn and look up.
“Don’t mind them,” a voice says. “Come on. Let’s get out of the spotlight.”
For a second I envision it’s Jake. Coming to save me. But Jake would never dress in a tux. He would never be eloquent with his words.
It’s Hunter touching me.
His hand at the small of my back. I want to squirm away from him, fearing he’s going to grab my ass. But I know he won’t grab my ass. Not in public like this. Not during an important function for business and appearance.
If it was Jake, he’d grab my ass. He’d squeeze, pinch, tease; fuck, his hand would be up my dress. He’d bend me over the piano…
“Hunter! Do you have a minute for me?”
I look to my left and a man is standing with a glass in his hand and a smile on his face.
Hunter takes his hand off my back and offers it to the man. “Hank. How are you?”
“Terrific. Such a beautiful event tonight, isn’t it?”
“Music is the art of the soul,” Hunter says.
He’s so fake. Just like my father.
“I was hoping we could…”
“Tell you what,” Hunter says. “Let me take care of my beautiful girl here first. I’ll be right back here in a five minutes. Deal?”
“Deal,” Hank says.
They shake hands again.
Hunter looks at me and we walk.
“Hank operates a few farms in upstate New York. Made his money on Wall Street and then bought up the family land and some old family friends land. He needs me to help him restructure everything. I’m not really into agriculture, but the opportunity could be amazing. Depending on market analysis…”
I stare at him. The words hit me but they don’t sink in. Everything is business. Everything, all the time.
We round a bend and there’s another room with more people. The building is an old library attached to a private music college. Through some funding and donations, my father and stepmother were able to refurbish and clean up the library and turn it into a music hall. Just another step forward for the good image of Thomas Werlen.
Hunter takes me to another bar that’s been set up for the event.
“Mingle,” he says to me. “You’re famous ar
ound here.”
“And what should I say?”
“You know what to say. I’m sure your father has taught you.”
Hunter smiles. He doesn’t even realize how much of an ass he sounds like all the time. He can’t help himself. It’s like it’s built into him or something.
When I first met Hunter, he was a total dork. He was tall, skinny, wore big glasses. He had a goofy bowl looking haircut, and when he breathed too hard, his nose would wheeze. I always caught him looking at my chest. It wasn’t my fault that I blossomed early. Then he was kind of just gone. Right after we turned sixteen.
When he was a little older he hit big with business and investments. His glasses were gone thanks to laser eye surgery. His haircut was a two hundred dollar job he got done each Friday afternoon. His nose didn’t wheeze anymore (not sure if that was done surgically or not). He was still a little taller than me but I ended up growing more than he did in height. He was still skinny, but a built kind of skinny. I mean, he had nice lines of little muscle throughout his body.
We still hadn’t fucked, which was good.
This was just dating. My father forcing him and I to be together, trying to drum up rumors about us. Anything to keep me far away from Jake’s strong and wonderful arms. Not that our parents knew what had happened between me and Jake though. That would be a disaster if they found out.
But it had only been a few times.
That’s it.
And it would never happen again.
“Jade, are you feeling well?” Hunter asks.
“Why?”
“You seem so distant. Is something wrong?”
I look up at Hunter. I don’t want to be with him. I should just blurt it out. But we’re in New York. So far from what I always called home. I needed the night to just go by and then I could get on a plane tomorrow and go home.
“I’m just tired,” I say and lie. “This is just so much.”
Hunter touches my lower back. “You’re right, it is. Can I confess something to you?”
I nod.
Hunter crouches down a little. “It’s all bullshit.”
He smiles. I smile.
“What?” I ask.
“This whole thing. Everyone trying to power fuck each other.”
“You really think that?” I ask.
“But it’s important,” Hunter says. “For everyone. Including me and you. To your left right now is a reporter dying to catch me kiss you. I’m not going to do that. But I am going to kiss your cheek. Feed the machine a little. You stay put and have a drink.”
Before I can speak again, Hunter kisses my cheek.
When he walks away, I turn my head and find a woman ten feet away, camera in her hand. She waves and I throw her the finger. Her eyes go wide and she rushes away.
I hate being photographed. It’s all a disaster to me. I don’t want to have my picture anywhere.
A young bartender brings me a vodka and cranberry. I don’t know why I ordered it. The second I taste the vodka, it makes my stomach flip. I haven’t had vodka since that night in my room. When I got really drunk. And touched myself. And Jake came in the room. And he tasted my body. And then I threw up.
I rub my forehead and take another sip.
“Well, there you are,” a voice says.
I turn and smile big as Rebecca stands with my father. “Here I am.”
“Not too much,” my father says and points to the glass. “We have to keep composure.”
“Of course,” I say.
“Where is Hunter?” He asks, looking way too excited.
I wish my father got that excited when looking for me or talking to me. Or anything to do with me. I’m basically an asset. Ever since my mother left us, by raising me alone, he became a good man and I became a valuable asset.
“He is talking with someone,” I say. I look and point.
My father rushes away, calling Hunter’s name. My father has a dream that Hunter will become the son he never had. Of course, to do that, Hunter and I must marry.
Cringe.
“You okay?” Rebecca asks with a smile.
She’s very pretty. But there’s something hidden about her. Maybe that’s why Jake is angry with her. Because everything is fake.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just watching the clock for this thing to end.”
“I know it’s quite the evening, but it’s for a good cause,” Rebecca says.
I wonder when the last time she talked to Jake was. Or what really happened to her and why she doesn’t play piano anymore. The questions linger on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t ask them. I’ve already sort of kicked the hornet’s nest by sleeping with her son - my stepbrother.
“Why don’t we talk?” Rebecca asks. “Keep moving and keep the night going.”
“I can handle that,” I say.
I grab my drink and take it with me.
It only takes a few more sips for me to forget about the taste of the vodka. All I know is that once it starts to work it should chase away all thoughts of Jake.
Or get me into trouble.
__
2.
(Jake)
I put my head back and I start to come.
It feels so good to finally let go. My cock throbbing. Lips tight around my shaft, moving up and down, taking it all in, over and over. It’s the damn longest blow job of my life. And it’s not the fault of the woman on her knees before me. She worked damn hard for my cum. She stroked, sucked, groaned with her mouth full. Hell, she did a damn decent job at it, too.
I almost feel bad for her. Working so hard for no fucking reason at all.
I shut my eyes and see nothing. I used to see Jade.
In the darkness I rest. I feel the woman on her knees still sucking, working hard for every last drop of me.
When I finally open my eyes and look down, her eyes are strained to look at me. I touch the back of her head and nod.
I’m done. Get the fuck off me.
She pulls back one last time and her mouth pops free. She licks her lips, runs a hand through her hair, and then smiles. Still on her knees, still trying to be seductive. She wasn’t even seductive in the bar. Just sitting there with a few friends, talking and laughing. I made it clear what I wanted and drove her back to the house to have her.
I was going to fuck her, but she wanted to blow me.
Fine by me. Less work and I still get to come.
I’m pretty sure her name is Kate or something like it.
She runs her hands through her hair again and then starts to stand. “I can’t believe you live here. This house is massive.”
“So is my cock, right?” I ask.
She gasps. “Yeah…”
“You want a tour? Or do you know where the front door is?”
“What?”
I sit on the edge of the bed and tuck my dick back into my jeans. I stand up and zip up. I look down at her and raise an eyebrow.
“What did you think?” I ask. “You want me to buy you a meal or something?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Are you? Do I owe you money or something?”
She climbs up from her knees and her hand comes across my face. The slap, the sting, just another reminder that I’m still alive.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she says. “I thought…”
“What?” I ask. “That I was going to bring you back here and fuck you? That I was going to wake up next to you and ask you to hang out? Christ, all I had to do was tell you I wanted it and you gave it up. Please. Get out of here.”
Her face is in shock. She looks ready to cry.
Maybe I should feel bad, but I don’t. Maybe I like seeing someone else in a little bit of pain right now.
Her hand tries to swing at me again. This time - to her surprise - I catch her hand. I put it at her side and close in on her.
“You got me once,” I say, “we’re even. It wasn’t even that good.”
She gasps again and twists her wrist out o
f my grip.
She finally leaves the fucking room, the door wide open. It’s not really a maze to get out of the house, but I wait in silence for the front door to slam hard.
She’ll go to the end of the driveway and call one of her friends. She’ll paint me as an asshole and that she’s happy we didn’t sleep together. She won’t tell anyone that she blew me though. That would be worse than fucking me. At least if she fucked me she got something out of it. Only in a few months, when she and her friends are drunk and gossiping will she admit what had happened.
You’re welcome.
I go back to the bed and sit down on the corner of it. I’m not used to being alone so early on a night like this. I shouldn’t even be in the house. I was actually told to stay away while everyone was gone. That’s my worth around here.
I could get in the car and go chill with Zeke. He’ll have something to drink, something to smoke, someone to fuck.
I don’t even consider it. I’m here. I’m just… here.
My mind waiting to relax.
They didn’t fucking invite me. I’m like the bastard stepson, huh? Fair enough, fucking asshole. So I drink. And I drink. And I drink. I stumble my way around and manage to get back to the house. I throw money at the cab driver and cackle as he tries to collect it all. The second I enter the house I hear voices. I hear a snorting laugh.
I know it’s Hunter laughing.
The fucking moron. I’ve had to shake his hand twice. And after hearing he and Thomas talk about Jade like she’s property, I want to punch them both in the face.
Hey, maybe tonight’s the night.
I’m drunk enough, I could pull it off.
Just kick open the door to the dining room. Interrupt their fake fucking dinner and start swinging. Then grab Jade and take her away. Tell her what they had said about her.
No, fuck that.
Why tell her?
I could just take her to her room and fuck her. Maybe her scream my name while Rebecca is tending to Thomas’ broken nose. Hell, I bet Hunter would cry if I hit him.
BAD HEART: A Stepbrother Romance (A Step Over the Line Book Book 2) Page 1