The Rebel

by Alice Ward

  “You like the taste of yourself,” he moaned against my lips.

  I lifted my leg over his hip, angling my eager tunnel at his piercing rod. “I like it on you,” I said boldly.

  “Oh God, baby,” he groaned, his eyes widening with shock and lust. With one hard rock of his hips, he buried his cock inside me. He returned his lips to mine and rolled me onto my back.

  Asher pumped into me and I clenched my pussy around him. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of your cock,” I moaned, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  I wasn’t just talking dirty for the effect; I completely meant what I said. Since Asher and I had returned home, I couldn’t get enough of him. We’d walked through the fire together and come out stronger on the other side. Every moment that our bodies weren’t connected seemed like a moment wasted.

  Asher moaned and slowed to long, teasing strokes. He lowered himself until his lips were just above my ear. He gave the lobe a gentle suck as the tip of his cock hit the deepest place inside me.

  “You want me to go slow and make it last?” he whispered with another gentle rock of his hips.

  I grabbed a handful of his curls and gave them a light tug. “No,” I moaned. “I want you to take me hard and fast until you explode inside me.”

  “Oh, Lauren,” he growled, picking up his pace. He pulled his cock all the way out of me, stroked it against my clit, and then slammed into me again. I dug my nails into his shoulders and sucked his earlobe.

  “After that,” I whispered. “I’m going to drag you into the shower and lick your cock hard again.”

  Asher let out a groan and slowed his hips. He held my face in his hands and stared down into my eyes.

  “I’m going to come before you if you keep talking like that,” he warned.

  I held eye contact and tightened my pussy around him again. “Like what?” I asked, my voice light and innocent.

  He smiled and pushed into me again. “You know what I’m talking about. Who knew you had such a dirty mouth, Mrs. Reynolds?”

  “Believe me, Mr. Reynolds, you’re about to learn just how dirty my mouth can be. But not until you give me what I want.” I moved one hand to his ass, pulling his cock deeper inside me. Asher rocked his hips, faster and harder with each thrust. He rose to his knees, pulling my legs over his shoulders.

  “Open your eyes, baby,” he insisted.

  I parted my lids and looked up at him as he moved above me. He took my right hand and moved it between our legs, soaking it with my juices. Then, he lifted it to his mouth and sucked it dry.

  “You taste so amazing,” he groaned. “I wish I could lick you and bury myself in you at the same time.”

  I guess I’m not the only one who can talk dirty. Marriage is awesome.

  I wet my hand again and lifted it to his mouth. Asher took my fingers into his mouth one at a time, as he slipped the third between his lips, his cock twitched inside me.

  “Oh God, Lauren. I’m going to come,” he warned.

  “Come baby,” I begged. “Fill me.”

  I gripped his ass with both hands, clawing my nails into his flesh. He cried out with passion and his entire body spasmed. Waves of ecstasy washed over me as we reached euphoria together.

  After a few moments, I let my legs fall to the bed and Asher rolled over beside me. He pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head, still struggling to catch his breath.

  “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

  “You aren’t so bad yourself,” I teased.

  “I fully intend to hold you to that shower comment,” he warned with a grin. “But I may need a half hour or so to regain my strength. And food,” he added as an afterthought. “We’re going to need fuel if we plan on keeping this up all day.”

  “All day?” I asked, playfully raising my eyebrow. “You’ve planned past the shower?”

  “Hey, a man can dream,” he laughed and rolled out of the bed. He reached for his bathrobe and then reconsidered and turned to me with a daring smile.

  “I have a suggestion.”

  “By all means.” I waved my hand for him to continue.

  “We’re all alone in the house. There are no guards, no cops, no lawyers, or friends. Let’s celebrate our privacy and spend the entire day naked.”

  I grinned. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  “On the terrace,” he added.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.” I climbed out of bed and took his hand. We made our way to the kitchen and I pulled my phone off of its charger as Asher set to work assembling a makeshift breakfast of fresh fruit and frozen waffles.

  “You know I love having our privacy. But I do miss Claire’s cooking,” Asher confessed. “Maybe she could teach you a few recipes,” he teased.

  I was too surprised by the message on my screen to react to his sarcasm. “She’s going to be too busy,” I announced, holding up my phone.

  He turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

  “Apparently, Claire’s been secretly auditioning for a spot on Extreme Cuisine.”

  “The cooking show with that British guy?”

  I nodded. “Her message says she’s made it into the top fifteen. They’re filming this season in Austin, Texas. She leaves on Sunday.”

  “Good for her. We should take her out to celebrate,” he suggested.

  “I’ll text her later and set something up.”

  Asher lifted our breakfast tray from the island and made his way to the terrace doors. I followed with two glasses of orange juice and we enjoyed a peaceful breakfast overlooking the valley. When the food was gone, Asher threw a longing glance to our new hammock.

  “You want to take a nap already, don’t you?” I teased.

  He grinned and gave me an innocent shrug. “What can I say? My wife’s insatiable and she’s wearing me out.”

  I laughed and led him to the hammock. We curled up together and stared up at the clouds. In a matter of minutes, Asher’s breathing slowed and his soft snores filled the air. As he slept, I let my mind wander over the past few months.

  Less than a year ago, I was stressing about finals and wondering if I’d be able to find a job once I graduated. Now, I’m married to the most amazing man in the world. The path we took to get here was terrible. But it was worth every step.

  THE END

  Curious about what happens next to Claire from Unraveling the Billionaire? If you loved Lauren and Asher, you’ll adore Claire and her journey to step out of her comfort zone, take a few risks, and discover love. Beware, it’s HOT in the kitchen.

  Continue on to read Claire’s story, Recipe for Lust.

  A BONUS NOVEL

  RECIPE FOR LUST

  ALICE WARD

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I can’t believe this is really happening,” Lauren said calmly, but with hurt still shining in her eyes. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me sooner.”

  I knew she was upset I hadn’t shared my audition details with her, but after a rough several months, life had finally returned to normal, and the only thing I wanted my friend worrying about was her own happiness.

  “I honestly didn’t think I would be considered, let alone chosen,” I admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Seriously, Claire? You’re one of the best chefs I know,” Lauren insisted.

  “I’m the only chef you know,” I added with a grin, then smiled wider when Lauren rolled her eyes.

  My best friend picked up her half-empty glass of wine from the oak coffee table while I stared at the townhouse, realizing how much I’d miss it. It was my first place on my own. Mine. A single woman, free and finally living my dream, not Royce’s. It felt good here, but I knew Deacon would be returning soon from Australia, and I would have to move on anyway, so the sooner the better. Right?

  I taped the thank you note to the fridge. I hoped the words inside came close to conveying how much I appreciated Deacon and his wife for letting me live here while
they were away. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I hadn’t had this soft place to land after the sudden explosion of my long term relationship.

  “So, tell me… how did you hear about this competition? How did you get selected? What was your audition like?” Lauren pounded out questions faster than I could think.

  “This calls for more wine,” I said, trying not to sound stressed by her inquisition.

  I picked up my sunglasses from the kitchen counter and slid them to the top of my head for safe keeping before grabbing the wine bottle from the granite island.

  “I’m a little scared,” I admitted, pouring another glass of wine for myself and topping off Lauren’s glass until she waved her hand to signal enough.

  “Why? You’re amazing,” Lauren insisted, covering my hand with hers.

  “I didn’t tell you about my audition process, well, because when I sent in the tape, I honestly didn’t think I would be considered, let alone selected, like I said. But, once it was submitted, I received a call from the program director and was questioned about my connection with you and Asher.” I gulped down half of my wine in one large swoop as I waited for Lauren’s reaction.

  “Well, I doubt that had anything to do with your acceptance,” Lauren assured me. Her smile was kind and convincing, but I’d known her long enough to know when she was being protective. It was absolutely the reason I was selected. Maybe not the only reason, but certainly a factor in the decision process.

  I decided not to argue and smiled graciously as I sipped more of the sweet red wine from my glass. Even if it was my connection to her and her husband that got my foot in the door, I’d work my ass off to make sure I deserved to be there on my own merit.

  “So, how did you hear about the competition?” Lauren asked, seeming to be as eager to change the subject as I was.

  “One of my clients left me the flyer when I served their luncheon a few months back,” I explained, remembering stuffing the paper in my back pocket and forgetting about it until later. I’d watched Extreme Cuisine since the show’s conception but had never dreamed or even thought about applying for the cooking competition for amateur chefs. “They were ready to air in Austin and were looking for contestants,” I continued, feeling a little embarrassed now. “It was a spur of the moment decision, probably fueled by this.” I lifted my glass to my lips again.

  Lauren nodded along. “What was the audition process like? Was it tough?” She was sipping on her wine at a faster pace to match my own.

  I lifted a shoulder. “I sent in a video, a few of my recipes, and then had the one-on-one with the program director by phone. It was simple.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Claire,” Lauren gushed. “After all you’ve done for me and Asher, you deserve this.”

  “If it wasn’t for you and Asher, I would have never found my calling,” I said sincerely as I held my glass in the air for a toast.

  Lauren smiled and lifted hers, clinking it against mine. The chime was calming in the quiet townhouse as it echoed through the large room.

  I shivered, remembering the time I’d spent in Asher’s kitchen, preparing food for the family, police, and security guards during that horrible time. I still had nightmares sometimes about Rachel, or Cynthia, the woman who nearly destroyed my best friend’s life.

  Lauren’s eyes were still bright and cheerful, and that glow she used to have had finally returned, but the ordeal aged her a few years, pushing her to look closer to thirty than twenty.

  I stood and placed my glass down on the table after taking that last delicious sip and looked around. The townhouse was cleaned, most of my items were packed, and it felt surreal to be leaving.

  “Maybe you’ll meet a hot cowboy out there in Austin,” Lauren teased.

  Her words pulled me from the trance I’d been in as I stared around the townhouse that I’d called home for so many months. A man, yeah, no thanks. After Royce, I was done with men.

  “This is not about anyone with a penis,” I insisted, knowing my face was giving away my distress at the thought.

  Lauren laughed and her eyes softened as they gazed upon my dismay. “I know sweetie, but you’re so good at love.”

  Love? What did I know about love?

  I knew I fell in love too easily. I knew that I stayed in relationships even when they were bad. I knew my selection in men had not been great, even though only one had passed through my life at this point. I knew love hurt, love was scary, and I knew that I wanted it desperately.

  Royce raced through my mind. Even though we’d split up and things had been somewhat amicable, thanks to me and my eternal penchant for kindness, the thought of him still enraged me. How could he have wasted so much of my life? I shuddered at the thought of how easy it was for him to fall into the arms of another woman. He had been my first everything — my only everything — but he had moved on, so now it was my turn to experience life and love on my own.

  “Is that what you’re wearing to the airport?” Lauren asked, again pulling me from my trance.

  “Yes, should I change?” I asked, now concerned my attire wasn’t professional enough to meet the production assistant at the airport.

  “No, you look absolutely adorable. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything before I zipped you up.”

  I shook my head and watched as she sat on my large suitcase, struggling to get the zipper to go all the way around. The suitcase was designer, expensive, and a gift from Kennedy and Jackson, another deliriously happy couple I was blessed to know. I felt a little pretentious carrying the bag that I knew cost more than my first car.

  I’d never traveled before. Even when Lauren left for college, I stayed here. Wasting my life with the boy I fell in love with at the young age of twelve.

  Look what that got me!

  I smoothed the white capris to get rid of the wrinkles that had formed while kneeling on the floor and then moved to my silky green top. Even though it was sleeveless, which I wasn’t keen on, I loved how it brought out the green in my eyes. My long auburn hair fell past my shoulders to cover the parts of my arms I hated. Lauren had told me I was starting to show some muscle in my skinny arms from carrying those heavy trays of food into my client’s homes and offices. Maybe she was right, but to me, they still looked scrawny, so I was grateful for the long hair to hide them.

  “I can’t wait to see you on TV,” Lauren squealed. “How exciting it will be to know a celebrity.”

  A celebrity. I had to laugh at that comment. If anyone was a celebrity, it was Lauren, wife of the tech guru Asher Reynolds. Things had finally calmed down, and Asher’s company’s stock had returned to normal. His name was cleared, and their pictures were no longer plastered all over the television and every tabloid magazine, online or printed.

  “I’m so scared I won’t make it through the first round,” I admitted. “How embarrassing it will be to come home after the first competition.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. I knew she hated it when I fell into my insecurity routine. It wasn’t that I thought my culinary skills were not on point. It was that I had no idea who I was going up against. There was so much I still needed to learn, so much I hadn’t done. “What if they ask me to prepare something I’ve never heard of?”

  “Then fake it,” Lauren said with an encouraging grin. “If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

  I moved through the townhouse and looked around to make sure everything was packed. I didn’t have much, so my nine-week trip, if I lasted that long, required me to bring practically everything I owned. Lauren was taking my small aquarium while a couple boxes that had personal items and sentimental keepsakes were already hauled to the studio and placed out of the way.

  When I returned home, my plan was to find my own place, truly my own place, not one that was paid for by a friend out of the country. I needed my own furniture, my own decorations, my own bed.

  It was time I finally grew up.

  “Looks like I have everything,” I announced.


  My hands fell to my sides, and my feet shifted back and forth as I began to feel the anxiety soar through my veins. This was all so new to me, so strange, so scary. I wasn’t sure I could do it.

  “Hey, ladies, are we all packed and ready?” Asher asked as he walked through the front door.

  He wore khakis with too many pockets and a striped beach shirt with a v-neck. He looked casual, normal, not like a bazillionaire, or like someone who was caught up in a scandal. His smile was refreshing, and knowing his car was outside waiting made me realize this was it. No turning back now.

  “We’re ready,” Lauren answered before I had a chance. She stood, grabbed both wine glasses from the table and carried them to the kitchen. I could hear them clinking together and against the stainless steel sink. Within seconds, she returned to the living room with a too-bright smile and a look in her eye that looked as though she was ready to cry.

  Asher grabbed my suitcases and hauled them out the front door. Lauren grabbed the small bag, and I tossed my carry-on and my purse over my shoulder before taking one last look around the townhouse.

  I fumbled with the keys as I locked the door and then handed them to Lauren. “You’ll make sure Deacon gets these back?”

  “Of course,” Lauren said softly. Her voice started to choke and her eyes welled up with tears.

  “No, don’t do that. I can’t handle it,” I insisted, holding out my hands as if to keep her emotion at bay.

  “I can’t help it. I’m going to miss you so much,” she gasped.

  I took a deep breath and fanned my face with my hand to dry up the tears that started to form. Asher leaned against the car, his body relaxed and his demeanor patient as he waited for his wife to pull herself together.

  “If you’re going to do it, do it now,” I said, feeling myself begin to fall apart. “I can’t have you ruining my makeup at the airport.”

  Her arms flung open and gripped me tightly around the shoulders as she pulled me in close. The smell of her perfume was soothing, lavender and vanilla, but it didn’t stop the tears from rolling down my face. “I’m so proud of you,” she sobbed.