Wild Cherry
Book 4 - A stand-alone second-chance ménage romance
Penelope Wylde
Copyright Notice
Copyright © 2020 Penelope Wylde. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]
http:/www.penelopewylde.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Em Petrova
Cover Designer: Bookin’ It Designs
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Contents
Copyright
Get Smutified
Wild Cherry
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
Books by Penelope
Mailing List
Who the F*ck is Penelope Wylde
They're smooth-talking jocks.
She's the one that got away.
A problem second chances can fix.
I'm Elle. Broken-hearted and just another plain, ordinary girl with her feet firmly on the ground. But secretly I burn inside and out to be the woman between them.
It wasn't always like that. I left them two years ago out of fear of how I felt toward two men. Now that I have a second chance, I hope I find the courage to shed my inhibitions.
Jace and Cade are my darkest secrets, my deepest desires. As pro football players who personify the perfect balance of rugged masculinity with gorgeous good looks, they could have their pick of women.
But they chose me.
They are built for sin with hard bodies chiseled into perfection from years on the field and willing to teach me their wicked ways. I’ve never been lust-drunk before, but they’ve stolen all my good sense.
But lust and love are worlds apart. Right? Can I find my happily-ever-after with my ex-boyfriend and his best friend or are they playing me and are only in it for another touchdown?
Author's Naughty Note: The series name says it all! Completely over-the-top and totally insta-lust the second they have their woman in hand. Pro football players and billionaires in their own right, these men don’t understand the meaning of slow. Get your binge read on and settle in for a totally off the charts second-chance romance. As always with a Penelope Wylde book, you'll get the filthy, naughty bits you crave with the perfect happily ever after you love.
Chapter One
Elle
“This is insane. Nope. Not gonna happen. No way this will work.”
I shook my head, tumbling a few strands from the upsweep holding back my thick black hair from my face. I turned left and then right in front of the large stand mirror propped in the middle of my best friend’s bedroom. I looked like, uh, like… okay I didn’t look as bad as I feared. Maybe I could pass for high society if the lights were dimmed and no one looked directly at me.
I did a few more turns and stared at myself from all angles. The girl who stared back seemed barely recognizable from head to toe. My hair twisted around the top of my head in a creation Madeline called a faux crown complete with tiny pins with sparkly jewels on the tips. And my feet were crammed into a pair of stilettos I would never opt into wearing willingly.
And my make up? Eat your heart out.
Maddy’s diamond stud earrings glistened in the bedroom light and if I moved just right, the shimmering colors radiated from each facet. Paired with a black dress that barely covered my ass and heels so high my legs looked killer, I was the female version of the Pink star diamond. I guess, taking a step back, for all intents and purposes, I did look like a real princess.
But it was all a lie. “I’m a nobody,” I say quietly, instantly deflated. I huffed, obviously still too hurt to see far beyond what my ex-boyfriend painted me as—a mediocre nobody.
“Don’t you dare cry and mess up my masterpiece.”
I raised my eyes from the floor to pin Maddy’s through the reflection of the mirror.
“And nobody, my ass. You’re Elle Morgan. The kick-ass chick who proves everyday girls like us are the real beauties of the world. Not the ones on TV with all their fancy makeup artists standing over their shoulders. Now stop pouting or that frown crease between your brows will stick like that.”
“Okay, Mom,” I drew out, pursing my lips, trying to lighten the mood a little for both our sakes.
My eyes drifted from my deep cleavage to my childhood friend. “This just isn’t me, Maddy.” I took in the strappy black number clinging to every groove and curve on my body. My normal wardrobe entailed a waitress outfit Friday to Sunday and every other day of the week required office casual with basic black pumps.
“All the more reason you need this, don’tcha think? Get out of your routine of work, home, binge read, and bed for Christ’s sake, girl. Live a little. Besides, you already bought the tickets. It would be a huge waste to see them not used. Do you wanna let him win? Hell no!” she answered before I could.
When Maddy started, letting her finish was the only way through.
“All that crap he spouted… he’s lucky I wasn’t there. He would have eaten lunch through you know where if I’d heard what he had to say.”
I smiled at my friend. She meant well and I believed she’d deliver on her promise.
My ex. Just thinking about him made my stomach hurt. The nasty words the flaming asshole drilled into me the day he called it off hurt deeply. I had cooked a great meal for our date night, planned on telling him my birthday surprise and then hoped for a little pre-birthday celebration and finally solidify our relationship. It would have been our first night together.
But, when Michael arrived, he didn’t bother coming in. That would have been too humane for him. Oh no, he dumped me standing on my doorstep a week ago for not being spontaneous or spunky enough. Not like all the other fabulous women he gave the pleasure of dating him. His words, hand to God. We only dated for three months, but from day one I wanted what Maddy had with her fiancé, so I mentally painted over his flaws and only saw the good. Which, looking back, wasn’t much of anything.
Renewed irritation flamed through me. Ironic how he considered me bland really when I had a wild night of all the spontaneous adventure either of us could handle lined up for his birthday, which happened to be tonight.
He didn’t want to hear what I had planned. Didn’t want to give me—or us—a chance. So now I had two expensive tickets to an exclusive club all of high society couldn’t stop gossiping about—II. Odd name if you asked me, but if you wanted to rub elbows with big names that was the place. Being seen in a place li
ke that also landed more than one person in the spotlight for movie and sports agents looking for the next talent.
I didn’t care about any of that. I only wanted someone who saw me for me. Guess that was off the table.
I stared at the tickets tossed among the clutter of concealer tubes and powder brushes. The two slips of white paper lay alongside a shade of red lipstick labeled Slaying Diva. Now that made me laugh.
Maddy fluttered around and brushed, poked, and fluffed until I couldn't stand still any longer.
“Okay, you win if you’ll just stop fretting over me.” I batted her hand away from tweaking the cat-eye stroke of liner giving my hazel eyes a dramatic edge.
Maddy flashed a triumphant smile.
“I’ll go, have a couple of drinks, and then you can’t say I never tried. Then I can come home, return to my comfortable boring life and be done with all this.”
Maddy sighed, a hip against the vanity. “You don’t get it, babe, do you?”
Puzzled, I swept a lock of twisted hair to the side and tried not to wipe at the amount of lipstick she patted on my lips. “Get what?” I murmured between pats of the brush.
“Michael is the asshole. There’s nothing boring about you at all. You just failed to drop to your knees and worship the fucktard like he wanted. That’s all. You’re beautiful, smart, and when the right man finds you, he’ll be just as blown away by your beauty, inside and out, as the rest of the world is.”
Surprise at her words left me speechless.
Maddy shook her head, lipstick brush pointed at me. “Maybe it’s all a part of your charm. Not knowing just how gorgeous you are. If you tried half as hard as the rest of us, you could have any man you wanted from any direction.”
Maddy tsked and set back to work on my lipstick.
I blinked rapidly, utterly baffled by what my friend just said. I took one last look and then picked up the tickets. “You’re crazy, Maddy. And wrong.” I held up a hand and started ticking off everything I have stacked against me. “One, I'm a Texas transplant to Seattle with a twangy drawl. Might as well put overalls on me in a city like this. Two, I’m a twenty-three year old college dropout, and three, I am working two jobs. Michael was right. I’m boring, practical and in bed by ten.”
I waved the tickets under her nose, done with the whole messy dissection of my life. “There are two tickets. Join me. Please don't let me do this alone. I mean, if I can do this, why can’t you?”
“I’m not crazy and when you do find your man, I’m going to so tell you I told you so.” She pointed to the tickets. “To those, I have to say no. I just can’t. My significant other would feel left out, babe. I can’t do that to him. Besides, I still have a few finishing touches to put on the wedding details.”
Maddy’s cheeks turned a pretty pink when she mentioned her fiancé, which made her look stunning without a drop of makeup on. She was the true epitome of beauty, not me.
“That sounds so much better. Let’s do that ins—”
Maddy threw up a hand, cutting me off. Her brows in a tight row of determination, eyes fierce. “Not a chance. Tonight is about you. You need this.” She took both my hands in hers. “Go, have fun. Enjoy a few drinks and cut loose a little. With any luck that asshole will be there, see you and know what a mistake he made in treating you so bad. And then you can walk all over him.”
God, I hoped not. I never heard of him going. It’s why I spent all my savings on the VIP tickets in the first place. He wanted to rub elbows with sports agents. Get his name out there so he could do what they do. It was the common denominator between us. Once upon a time I wanted to be a sports rehab therapist, and though I had to come back home to help my parents with a failing pizzeria, I wanted to one day return. He wanted to be a sports agent and we both loved football. Returning to college was all I could talk about at one time. Now the only thing I could think about was the balance of my bank account to make sure I could fund my book addiction and eat. But at one time, yeah, I had goals.
Maddy reached for my hand, and together we walked to the waiting taxi. A smile hovered on her lips as the driver rushed out to open my door, all dreamy-eyed. I slipped into the back seat. “Thank you for everything, Mads.”
Maddy’s eyes reflected pride as she closed the door and handed the address to the driver. “Have fun, babe, and make sure to call me if anything comes up. Anything, you got that? I will mama bear my way down there and take on anyone that stands in my way, too.”
From the protective look in her eyes I totally believed her. Only two years older than me, Maddy was the older sister I never had.
Pain of Michael’s words trailed after me as the taxi weaved in and out of Seattle traffic. No man should be able to hurt a woman so deeply, but he had driven each of his points home for damn sure. Maybe Madeline had it right. Maybe this could be the chance I needed to find the steel spine I misplaced somewhere along the way. A few dances with a handsome guy sounded nice. One of those drinks with the cherries, too. Maybe having a little fun tonight wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
“Sex with you will never happen. My dick can’t get hard for a little pathetic country girl like you. Might as well cut my losses.”
And just like that my heart tore a little more. Fucking prick.
“Miss?”
I pried my eyes off the floorboard to find the driver desperately trying not to stare at my cleavage.
Maybe I could attract enough attention to show my rotten ex what he missed.
“Yes?”
“We’re here.”
Chapter Two
Cade
I clenched my jaw and scanned the monitors flashing one scene after another of II. Just another night like any other night. I braced my hands on the back of a chair. Throngs of people wanting to be seen and heard. Everyone from desperates wanting to be accepted by the popular crowd, to old players who knew the game all crowded into the two-story exclusive club and all came looking for the same thing—the limelight.
I used to be like so many of those fools. Wanting everyone’s attention and then by the time I had it, I realized the best thing in my life was gone. Elle Morgan. I let the most beautiful soul slip from my fingers because I chased fame and fortune.
Now that I had both…
I sighed gruffly. I turned to Jace, my best friend since forever it felt like most days. He had a drawn brow that gave him a puckered face oddly mirroring my sentiments of the evening perfectly. We had been friends from day one of college, on through football and now our pro days.
“You know, sometimes on nights like this I feel like standing in the middle of the room and just picking and saying that’s the one. Fate picked and I was only the instrument.”
Scanning the other half of monitors lining the wall in our office, Jace chuckled, which only irritated me more. We’ve talked about finding someone who completed us on and off for the past year. We had selective tastes in women with the utmost on the list being okay with our darker desires of sharing our women. And able to take all our devotion to her happiness.
Nothing else mattered beyond that and a kind soul.
Sure, we dated off and on solo, but nothing serious for either of us.
To most it sounded weird, but for Jace and me, we’ve known since college at some point we would end up marrying the same woman. It happened when we unwittingly ended up liking the same girl our junior year and asked her out. Together. She might have found our indecent proposal too sinful for her sweet Baptist Southern soul, but there were a few who we thought might be the one. Then there was Elle Morgan. My God, that woman had it all—heart, soul, killer body. I caught how she looked at my best friend a few times, and it gave me hope. But our relationship was too young. I waited too long to introduce her to my darker side. I had been scared. I didn’t want to rush things and scare her off. Then she left college—no warning, no goodbye. Just gone.
“I’m serious, man. I’m tired. I just want to find someone that I can be happy with already and b
e done.”
Jace cocked a brow.
“Okay, we. Sorry,” I corrected.
“You’re horny,” Jace countered. “You’re never going to find an Elle Morgan in a crowd like this.”
Fuck, I hated he was right. “No one will ever compare. Half the time I want to track her down.”
Jace pointed at the bank of monitors. “Before hiring a PI and entering stalker territory, tell you what. Go down there, pick up a busty brunette, take her home for a night or two and get it out of your system already.”
I pushed up from where I leaned on the chair and headed for the sidebar in our office. “When’s the last time that worked?” I shook my head. “Waste of time. We’re not like the guys down there anymore. Way too old and I like to think we’ve matured past wanting a new woman every other month.”
Jace was quiet for a long minute and when I turned to him, something dawned on me. “Why the hell haven’t you dipped into the pool lately? Take your own advice and indulge yourself. I thought you liked all the ladies the job attracts.”
Jace stood and joined me at the bar, taking the whiskey and pouring us both a double.
“Maybe you're old—”
“—Fuck you.” I cut in.
Ignoring me, Jace continued. “I’m just tired of glitter and fake everything, especially sentiment. You’re right. It’s been a long time and I’m just… fuck it. I don’t know.”
A hand came around and Jace rubbed at his neck. “I don’t know.”
We’re in the height of our pro ball career, the days when we should be the happiest, but it all seemed so lackluster of late. We made good investments with our money. Built an empire of nightclubs that strung across the country with our eyes set on taking II global when we decided to retire from the field. Honestly, the more I thought on it, the more it sounded like that day could be sooner, rather than later. We hit the pro scene later on and had a couple or three years on most of our teammates. My shoulders and knees could attest to that fact. Jace’s too. While most of our friends were out living up the high life, we spent it either here, on the field practicing, travelling to games, or in ice baths. We didn’t understand the meaning of cutting loose, I guessed.
Wild Cherry: Menage Football Romance (Cherry Poppers Book 4) Page 1