Big Bad Wolf: A Bad Boy Next Door Second Chance Romance

by Frankie Love

  Hayley giggles and leans down. "I need to take my shoes off, they're killing me."

  "I might just carry you home, then," I say, and she shakes her head vehemently, but I've already gathered her in my arms.

  "There's no fighting me, little Red Riding Hood," I whisper into her ear.

  24

  Hayley

  In my house, I can’t help but giggle as Luke slams my front door shut and pushes me against it.

  "I think this is your favorite position," I tease. "It’s always me with my back against something."

  "I haven’t fucked you against a door, though," he tells me, licking his lips. "But that’s about to change."

  He pulls up my dress so it wraps around my waist, and I laugh, knowing he’s going to love the view. I didn’t wear any panties for our ‘proper’ date tonight.

  Because I knew exactly how this night would end.

  "Seriously…" He groans in pleasure, a true smile spreading across his face. “You sat across from me at the restaurant with a bare pussy?"

  "Mm-hm," I moan as his fingers run over my mound, my soft folds spreading for him. "And when I placed a napkin in my lap, in that corner booth, I slipped my fingers under my skirt and touched myself while you ate your spaghetti and meatballs. I worked my clit over while you looked at the dessert menu."

  I unbuckle his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His cock escapes his boxers and I wrap my hand around his hardness. My pussy is instantly wet, so turned on by his manhood. "I think it’s time we had dessert, don’t you?"

  "What do you want to eat?" he teases, whispering in my ear, his hot breath forcing my back to arch. I raise my arms, letting Luke pull off my cotton dress, my ass pressed against the cool door, my breasts wanting to be untethered from the lacy bra I’m wearing.

  "You make me so hot," I say as his fingers find my opening. He lifts my leg up, and his other hand begins to softly finger my pussy.

  "You’re already dripping," he tells me as I stroke him. "You’re so fucking wet for me."

  He presses another finger in me, fucking me faster, sliding them in and out. I cling to his neck, wanting to be close to him, now. Always. Forever.

  "I want to fuck you until you can’t see straight." His thumb is against my round nub, my clit throbbing as he touches me. He adds pressure, causing my breath to catch.

  "Oh, Luke," I moan as he adds a third finger. My jaw clenches tight, I can’t breathe. My pussy is gushing against his hand, and I find myself grinding against him, wanting more. More. More.

  He pulls his hand from my cunt, and he yanks down my bra, my breasts falling out for him, my nipples hard. He moves his mouth to them, sucking me, which causes my pussy to tighten, nearing climax.

  He wraps both my legs around him and raises my ass higher against the door, his tip so close to where I want it to be.

  "When you fuck me," I tell him, meeting his gaze. "I feel so beautiful."

  "Good," he says, easing me onto himself. "Because you are, Hayley. You are beautiful, and you are mine. Now, and for always."

  I gasp as he fills me. My body is on fire, alive and his.

  "I love you, Hayley. I always have and I always will."

  He thrusts deep inside me, as if emboldened by his words. I whimper in pleasure, hearing the words I’ve always dreamed of hearing.

  "I love you, too, Luke Barton," I tell him. They are the words I bound to my heart so long ago, when he laid me on the ground, my red cape discarded, my little blue dress pushed up high enough that he knew my pussy was his for the taking. Deep in the woods where he fucked me for the first time.

  He will be the last man to fuck me, too.

  The only man I have ever loved.

  He kisses me then, our bodies slick and hot as we fuck hard. Our bodies press together, our mouths colliding; there is no escaping the only fact that matters: we are one.

  His tongue fills my mouth. Everything he can give, he fills me with. His cock, his tongue, his heart. I am his and he is mine.

  My breasts hit one another as Luke thrusts deeper in me, and I feel his balls slap against my taint. His hands grip my ass as he pounds me against the door.

  "I’m going to come," he tells me as he squeezes my ass cheeks.

  "Come in my pussy," I beg. "Come in me hard."

  He does, his warm seed filling me, and my core tightens; the walls of my pussy exploding as he comes in me, deep and hard.

  "Fuck…" I sigh as he lifts my ass so he can pull out.

  "Sweet Hayley Adams, talking all dirty."

  "You like that?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, my feet back on the ground.

  "I love it. I love you."

  The words cause my heart to bloom. "I feel so lucky. To be yours. It’s all I ever wanted."

  Luke takes my hands and pulls them against him. His naked body is chiseled to perfection, taut muscles, inked skin, all mine.

  He holds out my arm, the one scarred from the knife that slashed my skin. The one that will remind me every day of what we lost.

  What I found.

  "My Gram always told me all good things are worth the wait. That you can’t rush love,” I say softly.

  "I agree," Luke replies. "And once you find that love, you can’t fucking waste a minute."

  "Someone else told me life is a fucking gift. Precious."

  "There you go with your filthy mouth again," Luke says, cupping my face with his hands. "But it sounds like that advice must’ve been from a pretty smart guy."

  "The smartest." I laugh, radiating the gratitude I feel.

  "He’s so smart, in fact, that he won’t leave anything to chance."

  "Oh yeah?" I shake my head ever so slightly, my body tightening, because this moment turned from silly to serious. Luke isn’t laughing, his gaze is sincere, true.

  "Marry me, Hayley." It isn’t a question, it’s a statement. A truth.

  He holds me steady. He already has my heart.

  I kiss him, my lips sealing my fate.

  I used to believe in magic. I used to believe in fairy tales.

  I guess I still do.

  Because I feel like a character in a storybook for little boys and girls.

  Little Red Riding Hood, in the arms of the wolf, standing here, in grandma’s house. Tucked in the woods, outside of town.

  But I don’t need the huntsman to come save me. I was already lost and then found.

  Luke kisses me, tenderly. I lace my fingers with his, the words Lone Wolf written on his skin.

  But he isn’t alone. Not anymore. And neither am I.

  I’m not scared of a big bad wolf.

  In fact, I’m not scared of anything.

  Epilogue

  Hayley

  One Year Later…

  The house smells like pumpkin pie. So much pumpkin pie. All the pumpkin pie.

  There are a dozen of the flaky, crusted, perfectly-filled pie plates on the counter, ready to be delivered to the people who have supported Luke and me this past year. It isn’t much, but it’s what I do.

  As I pull the last tin plate from the oven, I remind myself to stop minimizing my life’s work. It isn’t just paramedics and firefighters who save lives.

  Sometimes a slice of something sweet is the only cure.

  "You’re saving one for us, right?" Luke asks, coming up behind me in the kitchen. His hands wrap around my waist, his lips hot on my neck.

  "Yes, I want to have a nice dinner for Chris tonight. We haven’t seen him in ages and I want it to be special. I know he’ll have something to tell us… I just have that feeling."

  "You’re a sweetheart, you know that?"

  "It’s your brother," I say, spinning around, swatting the shoulder of the man I’m marrying in a few months.

  "I know. I’m glad he’ll be here this weekend. It’s been a long year."

  "Are we waiting to go to the cemetery until he gets here?" I ask.

  "No, Chris said he wants to go alone."

  Willow Creek has been through so much,
and everyone seems to be processing things in their own way. Me, I’ve thrown myself into my bakery business, got myself a food truck. I thought about getting a storefront, but I wanted to be able to park my business wherever I felt like.

  Mostly, I find myself parked in the lots where Luke’s contracting business is working for the day.

  I’m a pretty smart businesswoman, if I do say so myself, looking at my hottie working up a sweat, a tool belt slung around his waist, offering him my cupcake—in more ways than one.

  Yes. Please.

  "Well, let’s go deliver these pies and then we can go pay our respects, okay?" I take a deep breath. I’ve known this day was coming, but it doesn’t mean it’s easy.

  The cemetery is quiet, leaves cover the ground, and I’m grateful the first snowfall hasn’t happened yet. For some reason crunching across icy snow would break my heart.

  Luke’s hand is against the small of my back as we stand before Julie’s grave, leaving a bouquet of red roses for the young girl who was taken in such a horrifying way. I grip Luke’s hand, needing to hold on to the one thing that never fails to steady me.

  At Stacy’s grave I lay sunflowers, ones I had flown in especially for her. Bright and bold and bigger than life.

  Next to an unmarked grave, I set a single daisy, wanting to remember Nick. His body was flown home to his family, but I can’t forget him. He was in Willow Creek to make sure I was okay, and for that, I am forever grateful. Our eyes glance at Luke’s dad’s gravestone, and I see his shoulder pull back, his jaw tense, his grasp on my hand tightening as we pass by.

  "Do you want to…”

  "Let’s go," he tells me softly. "Let him rest in peace. If I go over to his gravestone I’ll start digging up things that are better left buried.”

  Understanding, I squeeze his fingers, blinking back tears.

  In the car, Luke turns on the heat, and after a few minutes I begin to thaw. But my mind is all over the place.

  The way Stacy’s parents took the pie from my hands, eyes holding a sadness they will never get over. The fact that my wedding to Luke is set for the week before Christmas, a way to give us a new start. But I swallow down the reality of the people who won’t be there that day.

  There’s also the reality that Chris is returning tonight after months away, and I’m nervous that he won’t be the same.

  But that isn’t all of it.

  "Hay, do you want to stop for hot chocolate or something? You’re so torn up. I hate to see you like this."

  "Um." I shake my head, thinking things through.

  Luke pulls the car over, and I look up, seeing where he’s parked. The raging creek is in the distance, and I see the giant willow standing strong.

  "Shit, I shouldn’t have parked here. Let me drive a little way down the road." He moves to put the car in reverse, but I set my hand on his.

  "No, this is okay. In fact, it’s probably good. We can’t hide from the memories forever."

  "I know, it’s just… I see how upset you are, lost in thought and—"

  "No," I cut him off. "I have something to tell you, but…."

  "But what?" Luke turns off the ignition, takes my hands in his. "Hay, you can tell me anything."

  "I know. It’s just this time of year is when we should be mourning, but…."

  "But what?" he asks again. "Just say it, baby."

  "I’m pregnant." I bite my bottom lip, looking down at our hands. "It’s crazy, right? I was on birth control, and we weren’t planning it… and to find out now—"

  "Hayley," Luke says. "Look at me."

  I shake my head. "It feels wrong to be happy when this is in our face." I look up then, pointing out the window at the willow tree. "But the truth is, Luke, I want to have your baby so badly. But it feels like it isn’t fair. To have everything I want. You. Our child. A home. A life." I shake my head. "It’s too much goodness."

  "Shh," he says.

  I smile then, loving the way he shushes me, causing my fears to fade with the single sound.

  "Look at me, Hayley," he tells me again.

  My eyes meet his, scared to see pain or hurt… but all I see is love.

  He grins. "You’re going to have my baby?"

  The tightness in my chest releases its hold.

  "You’re not mad?"

  "Fuck, are you crazy?" He shakes his head incredulously. "Hayley, I’ve wanted you forever. I have you for always. And now you are carrying our child?" He pulls my face to his, our foreheads resting together. "This news honors life. Honors our love. I’m not mad, Hayley. I am yours."

  Also by Frankie Love

  Charmed by the Mountain Main

  Courted by the Mountain Price

  Saint Jude

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  Edited by Larks and Katydids

  Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Copyright © 2016 by Frankie Love

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  ACE

  I don’t take women to bed.

  I take them against the wall, hard and fast, and when I come I make sure they remember.

  They always do.

  I’m cocky as hell, but shit, I’ve got reason to be. I own Spades Royalle, the sexiest casino in Vegas. Fuck, the sexiest casino in the country.

  And sure, I’m a player, but why wouldn’t I be? The highest rollers in the world come to play at my tables—it’s no surprise that the hottest ass comes to the same place.

  Everyone wants a taste of the action my casino offers. A taste of what I offer.

  The cocktail waitresses who work here, with their tits pushed high and asses hanging out, know why they were hired.

  The dealers I cut paychecks to know I only want the fastest hands on my casino floor.

  The dancers at my shows know I only want the hottest performers in the city.

  The DJs at my nightclub, where table service starts at ten grand, know I only want the best beats, the most fuckable women dancing.

  The Spades Royalle is my domain. I own this town, and this casino, and every freshly-shaven pussy that sets foot here knows it.

  With my tumbler of whiskey in hand, I walk across the casino floor toward the elevator leading to a private suite I’ve reserved for tonight. It’s the perfect place for mixing business with pleasure. I avoid taking anyone to my penthouse on the top floor—this way I can keep all my transactions from getting personal.

  I don’t do personal with any woman.

  I’m my own man. I don’t need anyone up close and in my shit. I don’t want them to think they have any chance at long term.

  I keep my bets safe.

  And the safest bet I know is one night stands—make that one hour stands.

  The only people I trust are my closest friends, McQueen, Jack, and Landon. My family? Not a chance. They’ve screwed me over more than once.

  But who needs family when you have Vegas?

  Downing my drink of choice, Johnny Walker Blue—neat—I look around for a cocktail waitress. I like playing this game, finding a piece of ass that looks nice and giving her a fifteen-minute break she wasn’t expecting.

  They never turn me down.

  A perfect brown-haired
honey works the room, carrying a tray in one hand, setting down beers and cocktails in front of the men at the tables. They offer her chips as tips, but I have a different sort of tip in mind.

  Her face is flushed, tendrils of hair falling in her face as she moves quickly, knowing money is up for grabs if she works the tables the right way.

  I press my lips together, ready to sweep her from the floor, toward my suite, and push her round, perfect tits around my cock.

  I know she’ll want it. It’s obvious she needs it. A scowl crosses her face as a blackjack player forgoes giving her a tip, and she rolls her eyes slightly as a guy offers her his phone number.

  Watching her as she crosses the smoky floor, I know what she needs. It looks like she’s had a long night and she needs to release some of that pent-up hostility. I know there’s plenty of time to work her up and down before my monthly private poker game begins.

  She walks toward the hall where I’m standing, an empty tray in her hand. Probably headed to the bar to fill her orders.

  Oh, I’ll fill her orders all right.

  EMMY

  Fuck. My. Life.

  I made one rule when I moved to Vegas two months ago—I would not screw bad boys. Or asshats. Or really anyone I met on the casino floor. And the thing is, I’ve made good on my promise.

  However, I still have to deal with these guys. Here I am, another night serving drinks to men who assume I am ready and willing.

  Really asshole? You think I want your phone number? You think I’m wearing this black pleather leotard—the one that is giving me a serious wedgie—or these fishnets and five-inch stilettos, for you?

  You think I have my tits pushed higher than humanly possible because I want to screw you in a hotel that is actually not where I’m hanging out for fun? Because I’m here for one reason, and one reason only: it’s a fucking job.