Bringing Home the Bad Boy

by Jessica Lemmon

  Jessica is an ex–meat eater, and also a writer, artist, dreamer, wife, and den mother to two dogs.

  You can learn more at:

  JessicaLemmon.com

  Twitter @lemmony

  Facebook.com/AuthorJessicaLemmon

  ALSO BY JESSICA LEMMON

  The Love in the Balance Series

  Tempting the Billionaire

  Can’t Let Go

  Hard to Handle

  The Millionaire Affair

  ACCLAIM FOR JESSICA LEMMON’S LOVE IN THE BALANCE SERIES

  HARD TO HANDLE

  “[Aiden is] a perfect balance of sensitive, heart-on-his-sleeve guy who is as sexy and ‘alpha’ as they come… A real romance that’s not about dominance but equality and mutual need—while not sacrificing [the] hotness factor. A rare treat.”

  —PolishedBookworm.com

  “Lemmon’s latest is a pleasant example of living in the present and celebrating second, and sometimes third, chances.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “[Aiden is] a fantastic character. He is a motorcycle-riding, tattooed, rebel kind of guy with a huge heart. What’s not to love?… I really enjoyed this book and I think readers will find it entertaining and heartfelt.”

  —RomanceRewind.blogspot.com

  “I smiled through a lot of it, but seeing Aiden and Sadie deal with all of their hurdles was also incredibly moving and had me tearing up more than once as well… I can’t wait to see what Lemmon will bring to the table next.”

  —HerdingCats-BurningSoup.com

  “Aiden has all the characteristics of a bad boy but with the heart of that perfect hero… Their gradual spark leads to some well-written steamier scenes.”

  —RosieReadsRomance.blogspot.com

  CAN’T LET GO

  “I loved Sadie and Aiden in Tempting the Billionaire, and I was waiting for their story to finally be told. I love that this novella [lays] the groundwork for what will come in their book. I look forward to seeing how their story unravels in Hard to Handle.”

  —HarlequinJunkie.com

  “This novella was long enough to get me hooked on Aiden and Sadie and short enough to leave me wanting more… The chemistry between the characters is fan worthy and the banter is a great addition. The writing style draws readers in. I can’t wait for Hard to Handle.”

  —BSReviewers.blogspot.com

  TEMPTING THE BILLIONAIRE

  “A smashing debut! Charming, sexy, and brimming with wit—you’ll be adding Jessica Lemmon to your bookshelves for years to come!”

  —Heidi Betts, USA Today bestselling author

  “Lemmon’s characters are believable and flawed. Her writing is engaging and witty. If I had been reading this book out in public, everyone would have seen the huge grin on my face. I had so much fun reading this and adore it immensely.”

  —LiteraryEtc.wordpress.com

  “If you are interested in a loveable romance about two troubled souls who overcome the odds to find their own happily ever after, I would certainly recommend that you give Tempting the Billionaire a try. It was definitely a great Valentine’s Day read, for sure!”

  —ChrissyMcBookNerd.blogspot.com

  “The awesome cover opened to even more awesome things inside. It was realistic! Funny! Charming! Sweet!”

  —AbigailMumford.com

  Bad boy Donovan Pate has only painful memories of Evergreen Cove. But when he returns home, a beautiful woman from his past may be his second chance at love…

  Please see the next page for a preview of

  Rescuing the Bad Boy.

  PROLOGUE

  The mansion ate light. A row of sconces lining the hallway cast a yellowish glow across the foyer, doing little to illuminate the floor, the thick drapes covering the windows, or the staircase leading up to the murky beyond.

  One of Donny Pate’s hands cradled Sofie Martin’s incredible ass as his mouth explored hers, the length of his body pressing her against the heavy wooden door. Her, he could see. Every pliant inch felt as amazing as it looked.

  He breathed into her ear, bit her earlobe. She arched her back, rubbing her little black dress against his sweater and jeans. All the blood in his head rushed directly to his pants. He’d kissed her once at the bar, for several minutes in his Jeep when he’d arrived at the mansion, and now this up-against-the-door thing was trying every last ounce of his willpower.

  He might die if he didn’t get inside her soon.

  It’d been a shit week, one he’d rather not think about, followed by a shit night that was turning out pretty damn good. Tonight’s company Christmas party had been boring as hell, but the manager at the Wharf required everyone to be in attendance if they wanted to get their bonus check. And Donny, since he was leaving this godforsaken town the minute the check cleared, needed that bonus.

  The Wharf’s dining room had been decorated with cheesy decorations, “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” piping through the ancient sound system. Donny had relegated himself to chain-smoking and drinking with his jackass coworkers, making tonight like every Saturday. Until the tip of Sofie’s upturned nose poked around the dividing wall. Then his evening had taken a decidedly more interesting turn.

  She’d been watching him tonight, sending furtive glances across the room while pretending to sip the same beer she’d ordered the moment she walked in the door. Then she’d caught him watching her watch him and a tiny smile curled her lips.

  Sofie looked like a girl bent on making a mistake. She’d come to the right guy. His recently deceased, formerly belligerent old man never let a moment pass where he hadn’t reminded Donny he was, in fact, a mistake.

  Donny had felt her eyes on him for a few months now—dancing over him as she entered the kitchen for her shift before refocusing on something far less intriguing. In between the clatter of cooking utensils and the tall steel shelves separating the cooks from the waitstaff, there’d been more than a few moments where he’d caught her moss-green eyes on his.

  Whenever she’d turn away, he’d let his gaze travel south. Even through the unflattering industrial-wear the Wharf required for the waitstaff, he’d noticed her body. Donny wasn’t an ass man, but Sofie’s had a healthy curve to it, and enough cushion to give his imagination plenty of ammo.

  A month or so ago, she’d earned a lifelong nickname on a dare. He’d made that night’s special for Sofie’s tables at least nine times. He’d been in the weeds, sweating over four sauté pans going at once. “One more shrimp scampi ticket hits my window, Sofie, I’ll brand you for life.”

  For a change, she hadn’t looked at him like she was intimidated or tongue-tied. Her lips had quirked into a completely adorable sideways smile, and she’d marched out to the dining room and sold not one more special, but three to her very next table.

  Tonight when the same look of determination crossed her face, Donny ignored all the blaring sirens in his head telling him to leave her alone. Good girl or not, he’d have her tonight.

  Consider it a farewell present to himself.

  “Scampi,” he said now against her mouth, tugging her bottom lip with his teeth.

  “Donny.” He could tell by her breathy response, she liked that. He squeezed her ass again and a small squeak left her lips. She liked that, too.

  Against her mouth, he smiled.

  Every damn time.

  Smiling wasn’t really his thing. What did he have to smile about? Nothing, normally. But now, a cute brunette rubbing against his cock, her cheeks warm despite the air leaking through the gap beneath the mansion’s door, her lips dropped open in a reverent sigh… hell yeah, he had something to smile about.

  He grabbed another handful of her butt, admiring the mess he’d made of her hair when he’d kissed her five, ten… hell-who-knew-how-many minutes ago.

  “Library, sweetheart,” he said, tipping his head toward the room on his left. The closest room in proximity to the front door held an ugly red velvet couch and a thick white rug. He would happily lay her do
wn on either. He’d even let her choose.

  “Okay,” she said against his mouth.

  He tightened his hold on her—appreciating again what a glorious, cushy ass she had—and lifted her off the ground. He was six four, so he guessed her around five and a half feet. Once he’d slept with a chick who was five nothing; he remembered her being short, but not one other thing about her. He doubted this would be the case with Sofie “Scampi” Martin.

  She looped her arms around his neck and in the pale light he saw her grin to beat all. The grin usually reserved for coworkers other than him. The grin he’d wanted turned in his direction for months. Now he had it. Full force. It made him want her more, and he hadn’t thought that was possible.

  In the library doorway, he paused. “Couch or rug?”

  She’d been twirling the back of his long hair with her fingers, but they stopped moving. Her eyes widened. She blinked. Stunned speechless, he’d guess. Scampi wasn’t one of the slutty girls he normally took home for a night. And he guessed “making out” had been the extent of her Christmas party plans.

  Well, he had other plans. To get her to say yes, he’d have to lay it on thick.

  He softened his voice. “Scampi, baby.”

  Her fingers flinched against his head. In the pale light, her eyes grew warm. There was something about being underneath the gaze of someone who cared that made him simultaneously panicked and horny. He swallowed thickly and asked the question he had to ask if he hoped to get what he wanted tonight.

  “Where do you want to make love?” He nearly gagged on the words. Make love. Good God.

  But it worked. Her entire face melted into an expression that told him he’d broken through her defenses. She was sober, so no worries there. He’d taken her warm, practically full beer bottle away from her at the bar tonight and that’d been an hour ago. Now there was only one thing left. Getting her to agree.

  “I dreamed this.” She tightened her hold on his neck, lowered her face, and kissed him so softly, so gently, that something in him recoiled.

  She’s sweet. Too sweet.

  As her lips moved on his, he silently argued with himself. He hadn’t had a lot of sweet in his life, but maybe he deserved some. Especially after a week that couldn’t get any worse. Scampi’s own brand of sweet was exactly what he needed.

  “Your call.” The oddest tension strained his voice. He squeezed his hands around her butt to ground himself. You deserve some sweet. And she was a whole lot of sweet.

  She kissed him again, this time not as soft, her tongue darting into his mouth and stroking his. It startled him so much, he had to tighten his arms so he didn’t drop her.

  When she pulled away, she clutched onto his head and whispered, “Couch.”

  Music to his ears.

  “Is that a yes?” He felt his lips curve upward. Another smile. Unbelievable.

  She smiled back. “Yes.”

  Angels began to sing.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said, then wasted no time laying her flat on her back.

  * * *

  Donny slid inside her all the way and Sofie welded her back teeth together and focused on keeping her facial expressions neutral.

  Who knew losing her virginity would be so painful?

  That’s what you get for keeping it sealed up for twenty-one years…

  Twenty-one long years of waiting for the right person. Donny Pate, in spite of being the last person she imagined might sleep with her, was the one doing the honors. She’d never, ever felt this sort of attraction to anyone else.

  He was incredibly hot.

  But hotness wasn’t the only thing that drew her to him. It was that darkness he presented to everyone. The scowl that was its own KEEP AWAY sign. Almost everyone at work heeded the warning, save for a few girls who strode right through the barbed wire with eyes wide open. For Sofie, the attraction to Donny had been less about the challenge of bedding a bad boy. It was his darkness, a quiet sadness that drew her in. She remembered vividly when she’d seen him smile for the first time. It transformed his entire face. The flicker of light in his eyes, the curve of his lips above that steely jaw… She’d vowed that day to make him smile more.

  “Scampi,” he breathed now, stroking into her for the third time. She unscrunched her eyes to take him in. Long, ink-black hair hung over his cheeks, shadowing beautiful crystalline eyes. She didn’t need to see them to know his silver-blue eyes looked like the winter skies. Pale against his skin and dark hair, those eyes trained on her had frozen her where she stood more than once.

  Each and every inch of his lean, tall frame was in proportion, sinew and muscle that wasn’t bulky, but definitely hard, corded. And tonight she was lucky enough to have every inch of his amazing body against her and quite a few inches nestled inside her.

  Like she’d dreamed.

  A grunt, followed by muffled curse words she couldn’t make out, preceded him blowing out a long breath that ruffled the hair on her forehead. “Okay,” he said, his voice rough. Not a question, but he didn’t move, almost waiting for her to answer.

  Gripping his neck, she lifted her hips, felt the sharp pinch again, the throb of his penis against her inner walls. She moved her palms from his neck to shoulders, then ran them down his hard male chest. God. He was beautiful.

  “I’m okay,” she said, canting her hips.

  His face contorted almost painfully before something flashed in his eyes, and he slid into her again. One smooth, delicious slide that filled her completely. A gasp escaped her lips and as he moved gently, the pain receded. Her eyes fluttered closed.

  This. This was like nothing she’d dreamed. It felt a hundred times better than when they’d started and a million times better than she’d imagined. Donny’s hands moved to the side of her head where he pushed her long hair away from her face and lowered his lips.

  She kissed him while he drove into her again and again. Her stomach coiled, something building…

  “That’s it,” he said against her mouth, pushing into her again, deeper than before. The movement set off another spark—like flint to stone—and she sparked.

  Throwing her head back, she gripped his shoulders with the ends of her short nails and let out a raspy, “Donny.”

  “Come for me, Scampi.” He continued to move within her, winding her so tight, she thought she might lift off the sofa. Tingling. She was tingling everywhere.

  “I…” She started to argue but she couldn’t. She’d never come before… well, not with a partner. Before she could make that admission, he thrust again, and she did. Her body clutched, her hands clasping tightly onto him, her mouth falling open, a ragged moan escaping her throat.

  While sparks flashed behind her eyelids and her toes curled, Donny continued moving. Seconds later, he lost himself as well, his groans drowning out hers, his slick-with-sweat chest brushing her sensitive nipples. One of his hands clutched her hip, the other held on to the back of the couch.

  Amazing.

  Sofie could only hear her thundering heart, Donny’s breathing, the blood rushing through her veins. A dream. This was an amazing dream come true. She opened her eyes to take in the man who’d yet to give her his weight. His body barely touched hers, except for where they were still joined. He gripped the couch, lifted off her body. She wanted him to let go, to fall into her. She wanted him closer, wanted to wrap her arms around him. Wanted him to kiss her.

  His heavy-lidded eyes had narrowed. Donny didn’t look like he’d be interested in cuddling or kissing. He groused down at her, eyebrows drawn together. “Forget to tell me something, Scampi?” he asked between clenched teeth.

  Her blood froze. Surely he couldn’t know. Could he? There’s no way he could know.

  “I…” She couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t.

  “Scampi,” he repeated, this time sternly.

  She shook her head. Speechless.

  His elbows were locked as he hovered over her, his face growing angrier. A second later, she lost
his warmth when he drew out of her abruptly. The dream fell away in fragmented pieces.

  As her body cooled in the chilled room, she took in the state of her clothing. The skirt of her dress had been rucked up over her hips, the top taken to her waist, and her underwire bra wedged in the cushions of the couch was poking her in the ribs. Donny stood, shadows slashing across his chest in the moonlit room, and pulled on a T-shirt.

  He bent and reached for his jeans. Under his breath, he muttered, “A fucking virgin.”

  Every nerve ending in her body prickled. “How did you know?” she heard herself ask vacantly.

  He tugged on his jeans and growled, “You’re so tight, I nearly broke it off in there.”

  She winced, thinking things couldn’t get worse. Then they did.

  “Get dressed. I’m taking you to your car.”

  “Can we… can we try again?” she asked, tugging the top of her dress up to cover her breasts. She felt so… so exposed.

  He didn’t look at her, instead concentrating on zipping his fly. “I don’t do virgins.”

  Okay. She wasn’t going to cry, in spite of the stinging behind her eyes and the lump in her throat. He couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t let him do this. First of all, it wasn’t nice. And secondly, this wasn’t the way first times were supposed to go. He was supposed to be gentle and accommodating. She was supposed to tell him he’d made her feel like no other man ever had before. She didn’t expect perfect. Awkward was acceptable, but this?

  This was awful.

  She’d remember tonight always, and he was in the process of ruining those memories. She owed it to her future self to salvage this night.

  Even though she was freezing, she dropped the material of her dress and showed her breasts. Donny’s eyes flickered over her skin. “Come on, baby. Let’s try again,” she purred, forcing a small smile to her lips.