Torrid Love: Friends to Lovers Romance (Bad Boy Studs Book 1)

by Scarlett Avery

“God, yes,” she cries out, pressing her ass against my hips, leaving me no other choice but to be buried to my balls. “Fuck, I love your cock,” she grunts, her fingers scrabbling at the marble counter top.

  “You’re such a good girl for letting me have my way with your tiny hole.”

  “God, Rod,” she whimpers.

  “Do you like my cum in your asshole, Dom?”

  “Oh, yes. I do.”

  “Ask me like a good girl to soil your hole.”

  “I love having your cum deep inside my ass.”

  Slap.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “You, Rod.”

  “Better. Now, say please.”

  “Rod, please, come inside my ass.”

  “You’re ready to drain me of my cum?”

  “Faster, Rod. Faster. Please.”

  That’s her fucking answer?

  Slap.

  “Dom, I asked you a question. Are you ready for my cum?”

  “Yes, yes, yes.”

  Seeing her like this drives me out of my fucking mind. Knowing I’ll soon coat her ass with my cum fuels me.

  “Oh, God, Rod.”

  “You close?”

  “I am. I am.”

  I grip her hip with one hand and circle the other around her body until I reach her dripping pussy.

  “Help me out. I need you higher on your toes.”

  She nods. “Okay.”

  I dip my fingers between her pussy lips until they’re skating over her hard clit again. I place all my focus and attention on her little ball of nerves, pressing the pad of my middle finger against it in earnest, circling her in the hard way she likes.

  “Ooohhh,” she rasps, tilting her head back. “Rod...” I love how my name is nothing more than a whimper.

  I thrust deeper inside her ass, stroking her clit in punishing circles.

  “Mother of God!”

  “Shhh. Not so loud, baby.”

  Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, but she’s so far gone, she can only offer a feeble nod.

  Fuck, I’m holding on by a thread.

  I press my middle finger against her clit as I pound her with more urgency.

  Harder.

  Faster.

  Merciless.

  I shove my entire length into her sweet ass over and over again until I have nothing left.

  Christ, her ass is so damn slick, so damn tight.

  I lean my naked chest against her back, close my fingers around her clit and whisper in her ear, “Give me what I want, Dom.”

  “I— God —”

  “Come for me, baby,” I command, pressing harder against her clit as I slam into her one last time.

  “I’m—” Her head drops. Her body is trembling.

  “Head up, Dom. I want you to look at me. Do you hear me?” I grunt between breaths.

  She flings her head back.

  Whatever was holding her hair in place goes flying.

  The look of ecstasy painted on her face is unbelievably hot.

  “Oh, Rod—”

  She clenches her ass hungrily around my cock.

  Fucking hell.

  I watch my girl come apart, the carefully styled hair long gone, leaving behind a beautiful woman babbling an incoherent string of curses as she gives into pleasure. With her eyes fixed on mine, she chants like this for a few long seconds until she utters two core-shaking words.

  “I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours.”

  That does it.

  Lost to her sweet revelation, I go crazy.

  I’m rough now, gripping her hips and slamming into her.

  “Oh, fuck, Dom,” I grunt.

  I’m like a wild man, chasing my release as she keeps clenching against me, still navigating her way through the aftershocks of her own climax. She closed her eyes a while ago. I can’t even reprimand her. Right now I can only focus on not allowing my heart to stop. Just when I slow my cadence, she squeezes me so hard, she leaves me no choice but to follow her.

  I’m done.

  “Oh, baby,” I growl.

  A tidal wave washes over me and I release my cum inside her, growling and slamming into her as my balls empty out.

  Jesus Christ.

  I come so hard, it sends a thunderous ricochet shuddering through my entire body. I come and come and come until there’s cum dripping from her ass down my legs.

  It has no end.

  God.

  For a few long minutes, you can only hear our heavy breathing as we both attempt to recover. As my vision clears and my senses return, so does my ability to speak.

  “Damn that was hot.”

  “It was,” she says with a small laugh.

  She lifts her head and our eyes meet.

  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I tell her for the millionth time.

  “I never thought it was possible to miss someone before you even leave.”

  “I’m in the same boat, Dom.”

  “I don’t think I’ll survive the next two weeks,” she says softly.

  “I already know I won’t.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Roderick

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  “Christmas Eve is so magical,” Dom sighs, allowing her head to fall on the headrest.

  “It is,” I say looking at her.

  “It’s been such a busy year, I’m looking forward to seeing everyone. And I’m also looking forward to not working.”

  “Same here.”

  “I’m exhausted,” she complains.

  “As much as I love how our companies have grown in leaps and bounds, I have to admit, it’s been a draining year and December’s breakneck pace was unbearable. Thank God for the holidays!” I say.

  “Ten days of chillin’ and relaxin’. I can’t wait!”

  I hired a chauffeured car for the trip to Long Beach. We’re catching the helicopter for the fifteen-minute flight to Catalina Island. I have a private charter waiting for us. My brothers, Loki, Jace, Beckett and Holt chartered a yacht yesterday, but I needed an extra day.

  “Neither can I.”

  She brings her hand to my cheek, her finger running against my trimmed beard. “The best part is, I get to spend more time with you.”

  I grab her hand, bring it to my lips and kiss it. “I’m going to milk these next few days because who knows, come January, my girlfriend might be too busy for me.”

  “Nonsense,” she giggles. “You’ll always be number one.”

  “You say that now, but when you’re an award-winning music video director, you might change your tune, blondie,” I wink.

  “Never!” she affirms.

  Joel’s tour across America was a smashing success. This was a major game changer for Holt’s company. Joel’s band played to sell-out arenas and stadiums from coast-to-coast. Dom captured every riveting and showbiz-worthy moment. The members of Brawn Impulse even went back to Woolwich, London to retrace their humble roots. Dom followed them. She pieced together a documentary tracing the journey of a bunch of guys with big dreams who started life in the dumpster. The parallel with my own life is uncanny. The documentary was received to acclaimed critique. On the night of the premiere, there wasn’t a dry eye in the theatre. When the documentary ended, Dom and the band received a standing ovation. Well deserved. Dom extracted parts of the two-and-a-half-hour long documentary and compressed it into a shorter version for television, cable and other specialty channels. The strategy was a winner. ‘Shattered Windows’ was nominated for a Golden Globe Award at the upcoming January ceremonies. There are even rumors of a possible Emmy Award. I couldn’t be more proud of my girl.

  “Being amongst friends is exactly what I need after this trial,” she says.

  We lock eyes.

  “I agree.”

  Gideon’s trial has been a heck of a shocker. I know this might sound weird—wrong even—but Dom was lucky he used a condom. In recent years, he hasn’t been as careful to cover his tracks. He
got three girls, aged thirteen to fifteen, pregnant when he raped them. Of course, he denied the kids are his. DNA says otherwise. The four kids were placed in loving homes. One of the girls had twins. Scumbag. The news left everyone speechless. For years, Gideon paid off those poor girls to keep quiet, but with the hefty cost of the trial here and in London, his money started running dry and his victims decided to out him.

  With everyone’s support and love, Dom testified. I was there with her every step of the way. One of my brothers, Loki or one of my former bandmates was always with me because the desire to kill Gideon grew stronger every time I had to look at his ugly face. The ironic thing is, his sex club, the Labyrinth Lounge, was his demise. Owner Carl Zorion’s sixteen-year-old daughter had dreams of becoming a singing sensation. She had talent. Over summer break a few years ago, Carl sent her to London so Gideon could mentor her and help build her team. He never suspected he was sending his daughter straight into the arms of a serial rapist. She came back from London depressed and borderline suicidal. Carl never understood why. Neither did his wife. When all of this exploded, Cassie came out. Gideon threatened her by saying he had proof her parents were involved in human trafficking of young boys and girls for Carl’s clubs. The asshole even claimed he had proof that would put the Zorions away for the rest of their lives, leaving Cassie somewhat of an orphan. All lies. Cassie was too young to know anything about her father’s business. Carl went after Gideon with a vengeance. The massive media exposure gave other women the courage to step forward. There were victims in New York, LA, Miami, London… and as far as Russia—Martina Kekovna had big dreams when she moved to London at nineteen. None of them involved being raped. Throughout the years, Gideon left a devastating trail behind him. He targeted young, innocent and impressionable girls and then twisted things around in his favor. The trial went on for over a year. Alas, he never went to prison for his crimes.

  “He was man enough to rape us, but not man enough to take responsibility for his horrific actions.”

  Gideon took his own life a few days before his sentencing.

  As much as I would’ve loved nothing more than for the coward to stand in front of his victims and get what was coming to him, knowing he’ll never be able to hurt another girl or woman is justice in itself.

  “We’re here,” I say when the chauffeur takes a right turn before driving down the road leading to the helicopter.

  “Yippee! Bring on Christmas!” Dom cheers.

  The car slows down to a halt. I thank the driver, get out and circle the car to help Dom out. A blonde and two men are already waiting for us.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Wolfe. Miss Jacek,” Shayla Marnell, the manager at Chopper Luxe, says.

  “Good afternoon.” Dom and I respond.

  “Derek and Peter will take care of your luggage,” Shayla tells us.

  “That sounds great,” I say nodding at the two men.

  They grab our luggage and head inside the building.

  “If you’ll follow me,” Shayla says with a hand gesture. “We have to go through the building and out the other side to reach the other helicopter,” she explains.

  “Oh, that’s new,” Dom says. Her eyes shift to the gray helicopter sitting on the tarmac to our left.

  “With the Christmas holidays, it’s been extremely busy. The second tarmac is a must at this time of the year,” Shayla explains.

  “Of course, that makes sense,” Dom says.

  I don’t say a thing.

  We follow Shayla.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to flying in a helicopter,” Dom says, “It just feels like there’s nothing between me and this big void.”

  “Don’t worry, sugar plum, I’m here. Just hold on to your big strong masculine boyfriend for safety,” I tease.

  “Shut up, Wolfe,” she throws over her shoulder.

  I chuckle.

  I look up and I can already see the kickass black and gold helicopter. I know it’s a short ride, but sometimes you have to go for the upgrade.

  A tall bald black guy opens the door. Shayla thanks him before stepping outside of the building. Dom also thanks him and follows Shayla. I’m next. I nod at the guy and he returns the favor. Suddenly Dom stops in her tracks. She looks left, then right. She even turns around in a circle. Finally, she turns to face me.

  “What’s all this?” she asks.

  “What does it look like?”

  “Rose petals?!”

  I shake my head.

  “No? They aren’t rose petals?” she asks. Confusion paints her beautiful face.

  “It’s much more than that, baby. Four thousand four hundred and eighty-three white rose petals, to be precise.” They’re spread from here all the way to the helicopter. “It’s equivalent to the number of days we’ve been best friends—twelve years and one hundred days since I’ve loved you. And there are nine hundred and thirteen red ones—two and a half years since I fell in love with you.”

  “What’s going on, Rod?”

  I approach her. “I don’t want to leave LA with my girlfriend.”

  “Huh? You don’t?”

  Her eyelashes bat furiously.

  “No. I want to leave LA with my fiancée.” I take a step back and drop to one knee.

  Her hands fly to cover her mouth. “Oh, my God.” That comes out muffled. Tears fall freely and her whole body starts to tremble. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Rod Wolfe,” she sobs.

  I reach out and pull her right hand into mine. “You got it the wrong way around, Dom. I’m the one who’s at a loss as to how come I’m the lucky guy who gets to love you, care for you and protect you.”

  “Stop it! You’re going to make me cry.”

  “I think we’re well past that,” I tease.

  She responds with a vigorous nod.

  “I can’t picture my life without you—”

  “Neither can I.”

  “But this dating thing is getting old.”

  “Are you saying what I think you are?”

  “Why do you think I’m on one knee?”

  She cries a little harder.

  “Right after our first night together, I remember telling Loki and Roark, I didn’t think it was a good idea to pursue things further because I thought you’d want more… and I didn’t know how to give more.” I pause. “You taught me how to love and how to be loved, Dom.” I pause again. “I never thought our love could fulfill me like this. Thank you.”

  She looks down at me, bewildered. “I don’t even know how to respond to that, Wolfe.”

  As if I’m done.

  “The last two and a half years together have been the best of my life. Before we started being honest with each other, I always thought I had it all, but our first kiss made me realize I had nothing. I know I’ve said it before, but I’m nothing without you, Dom. You’re my everything,” I say before choking up. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “Oh, Rod,” she wails.

  “And I want to have ridiculously beautiful babies with you. Lots of them. Lots, and lots, and lots of them.”

  She laughs through her tears.

  I let go of her hand, fish inside the pocket of my jacket and pull out a red box with gold filigree. I slowly open it.

  She gasps, blinking even harder now.

  “That’s breathtaking,” she marvels.

  “Just like you.”

  I bought my girl a stunning oval-cut Cartier ring with brilliant diamonds that extend to each side of the ring.

  “I’ve never seen anything remotely this beautiful.”

  “I got a little help from Isobel,” I tell her. “We nailed it?”

  “You could’ve given me a piece of string and you would’ve nailed it, but yes, it’s perfect.”

  I grin wide. “Dominika—”

  “I think I’m going to pass out.”

  “Just wait it out a sec, baby,” I tease.

  “Okay,” she smiles shyly.

  “Baby, y
ou’re the only woman who knows me from the inside. Dominika Lianna Jacek, will you be my wife?”

  “God,” she hyperventilates.

  “Marry me, baby.”

  “Yes!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, Rod! Yes! Yes! Yes!” she shouts. “I want to be your wife more than anything in the world.”

  “You’ve made me a happy man. Let me seal the deal,” I wink.

  I stand up and slip the ring on her finger.

  Seeing the large stone on her finger sparkle under the sunlight fills me with pride.

  “It’s incredible,” she marvels. “Oh my God, we’re going to get married,” she says as though it’s only just hit her.

  “Damn right.” Without warning, I lift her in my arms and swirl in a circle. She shrieks and laughs. I stop and look at the camera. “She said yes!” I shout. Dom looks at me confused. “Say hello to the gang on Catalina Island.”

  “What?”

  Shayla is holding my backup iPhone and filming every magical moment. The black guy is a professional video editor. His name is Darrius and Morgan recommended him. The other two guys who grabbed our luggage work with him. It’s all part of the ruse. Our friends and family will be waiting for us on Catalina Island, but I still wanted them to be part of the celebration. WhatsApp is a beautiful thing.

  “I didn’t even notice she was recording,” Dom says.

  “Hey, gang!” I shout. “I’m off the market for good!”

  “You’re crazy, Wolfe,” she swats my chest.

  “I am. For you,” I say before kissing her.

  “I love hearing that,” she smiles.

  I drop her to her feet.

  “Sweet Dom. My best friend. My lover. My girlfriend. My soon-to-be-wife. You’re all mine now, baby!”

  “I was always yours.”

  “Dom and Rod forever,” I say.

  “Forever,” she smiles up at me.

  I embrace her in my arms, pulling her close to me. “Fair warning, I want to fuck you wearing nothing but that ring on your finger tonight,” I whisper in her ear.

  “Rod Wolfe!”

  “Yes, Mrs. Wolfe-to-be?”

  And They Lived Happily Ever After!

  Who’s The Next Bad Boy Stud

  In The Series?

  Bad boy Lochlan (Loki) Berkshire comes across as the one who has all the answers… that’s until he bumps into her––the woman he’s been obsessed with for three long years… his baby sister’s best friend.