Breaking A Bad Boy Read online

  “You feel so good,” he whispered, dragging his mouth to her jaw. Sucking on her skin, he held her in place with his arm around her waist. No matter how much she wriggled, he confined her against his hard body, making her submit to him. He continued kissing a scorching path down her neck, tugging her hair, forcing her to meld to him. He sucked a point on her skin and she cried out as darts of pleasure hurled through her, targeting the space between her legs, over and over again. She needed him, powerful and demanding between her thighs, and pulled on his belt loops. Not enough. She traced the edge of his waistband, arriving at his zipper.

  She lifted her leg against his, and ran her hand down his bulge, squeezing his length and pressing her palm over what felt like a lead pipe.

  “Baby,” he growled, pumping his hips and rubbing his hard-on against her hand. “Time to get naked.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “PERFECT NIPPLES,” Rory murmured. He owned Sommer’s tits, spreading his fingers over her breasts, plucking her piercings with the right amount of force to make her bite that incredible bottom lip of hers.

  “Babe.” Sommer shivered in his arms, her sweet breath warm against his cheek.

  “That’s it,” he said, flicking his thumbs over her nipples and watching her reaction. “I want you to feel good.”

  “Good? What you do feels freaking amazing,” she moaned. Her amber eyes sparkled as her pupils dilated. He knew her body fully clothed, and now he was learning…memorizing a map of her skin. Naked. His entirely to enjoy.

  “Step,” he told her, grabbing onto the heel of her boot, and followed up with the other. “Again.”

  “I might not fully fuck you tonight, but I will make you come,” he promised, lowering the zipper on her skirt.

  Come! So unbelievably ready. He was on the verge of coming more than undone, and they’d only kissed. A whole night to explore Sommer…from her beautiful head to her last, little toe. All he had to do was hold back from thrusting into her pussy. Fucking A. What the hell had he been thinking when he promised no actual fucking? Of all nights, tonight they’d traded places, and here he was pulling down her skirt over her silky skin. She stood in front of him wearing nothing but the sexiest smile, teasing his senses taut.

  For the last hour, he’d walked a tightrope after ripping her panties and socking them away. The singular thought shredding his existence: that she’d been sitting next to him, dancing against him, walking with him minus panties. He envisioned her pussy about a million times. Pink. Wet. Spread, wrapped around him, sweet, squeezing…the list was endless. A catalyst that had worked over all his good intensions until none remained.

  Sommer took hold of his belt, undoing his buckle, the button to his jeans, his zipper. She tugged his jeans down. He stopped her to step out of his boots and socks, and then she resumed. Her tits bounced as she knelt in front of him. Her glistening mouth decimated his focus while her fingers slid his boxers to the floor. He was almost out of his mind as his cock sprung free.

  “Baby, I’m close,” he said in a low growl and shuddered, releasing pre cum from his tip. His body thrummed, his muscles tightened, and his cock juddered. Seeing her poised right in front of him had turned his hunger inside out. “Get on the bed,” he said, hoisting her up by her elbows.

  “But I wanted to—”

  “Don’t argue. Or we can work on following directions.” Okay, from hungry he now became a ravenous predator. Every fiber of his being strung tight in his need to claim Sommer. Take her. Fuck her. He froze, watching her twist and bend forward, lifting her knee to the bed. “Stop. Right. There.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing back to him.

  “Not a damn thing.” He met her liquid golden eyes, robbing him of his sanity. So ready to tear up and drown his promise. His cock was hard. Throbbing. Ready to be ridden by her.

  “I want to taste you. Just like this,” he replied.

  Now it was his turn to kneel. He separated her ass cheeks, giving him a phenomenal view of her wet pussy. He swiped his finger down the crevice of her ass and spread her lips. God, she was wet as fuck. Soft velvet and hot, and he pressed his mouth to her opening, driving his tongue into her as he pinched her clit. These twin actions had her crying out his name, wriggling against his face, but he held onto one of her hips, drawing her back to him. He needed her wrapped around his cock, but this was a mind-altering second best. He used his teeth to nip her, scraping the stubble of his chin over her pussy, just to drive her crazy. He sucked her against his mouth, fucking her with his tongue.

  She tensed, arching upward, her muscles starting to quiver, and he inserted his finger into her. Holy fuck. She clenched around him and he pumped his finger harder into her until his hand was drenched.

  “Lean forward,” he commanded. “And come. All over my mouth.”

  He licked her, plunging his tongue into her and alternated between fucking her with his tongue to lapping her juices. She soaked his mouth. Her muscles began to tremble. In a husky voice, he asked. “You like this?”

  She bowed her forehead to the bed. “So much,” she answered in a low, low voice.

  His cock was hard enough to pound nails. He rose behind her, gazing down at the dimples over her hips, and squeezed her plump ass cheeks in his hands. He had to figure a way that he could fuck her, without actually penetrating her. His cock stood ramrod straight from his body, throbbing unmercifully as he grazed his fingers between her legs.

  So wet. So close.

  A few inches away from his crown, where he leaked crystal droplets.

  Tremors ripped through his body from his muscles constricting as he worked to keep his promise and stop from thrusting into Sommer when he craved her like a drug, intoxicating his senses. The sight of her before him equaled temptation, strong as fuck, driving him crazy to do as his body demanded. His blood heated and cock swelled—so ready to sink deep inside her. Goddamn claim her entirely.

  He had to feel her glide over his crown. Just the tip, he told himself as he closed the distance between them. Pressing forward, he hiked up her hips until she was right there. Inserting his foot between her feet, he separated her legs wider apart. He gripped his cock, swiping his crown at her entrance, gliding through her wet heat. She felt so incredibly soft on him, the kind of soft that haunted him. He rubbed his cock across her pussy, grinding his back molars, his hips ready to piston.

  “I’m…” He didn’t know what to say and clenched his jaw, staring at the sight of his cock moving in and out between her legs.

  The warm, wet feel of her rode roughshod over him. It was as if the floor underneath him shifted; he felt himself letting go of what he’d promised as he pressed forward. Her pussy met him, but she didn’t yield. He’d have to haul her back and barrel forward this being her first time.

  She pushed her chest off the bed, turned around, looked up into his face, and nodded. “Babe,” she whispered. “Let me.”

  She slid down to the floor and gripped him around his base. Hard like he needed. She licked her enticing tongue over his head. The feel of her warm lips wrapped around him had him pumping his hips, moving his cock into her mouth by primal instinct. So at the edge—he’d never been this far gone. He drove into her, sliding deeper as she opened her mouth, taking him farther and exorcising a loud groan from low in his chest. “So fucking perfect,” he rasped. “You look amazing giving me head.”

  “Mmm,” she moaned sexy sounds, each one squeezing his balls.

  She worked her mouth, tongue, and the tips of her teeth over him. Swirling her satiny lips along his ridge, she tormented him for a beat, making the breath freeze in his lungs.

  His heartbeat ratcheted up…way up. “Sommer,” he hissed out his breath sharply.

  Again she swallowed him—his cock, his lust, his need to join with her and he let go in trying to control himself.

  She tightened her lips over him and he fisted her ponytail. “Fuck my mouth,” she moaned.

  “Oh baby, swallow me,” he grunted to his
dirty talking girlfriend, as she let him own her mouth. “That’s it. Just. Like. That!”

  Sommer raked her nails along his thighs, drawing out his pleasure and tangling the mind-jarring sensation shooting through him with tinges of erotic pain. The sharp burning effect spiked his lust to go deeper.

  “Take all of me,” he commanded.

  “Yes, mmm,” she moaned at the back of her throat and nodded. Drawing him into the recesses of her mouth, she sucked his head and slid her ruby lips up his shaft. She captured his nuts in her warm palms, rolling his balls within her fingers, setting fire to his senses.

  The base of his spine flickered with electrical darts. He thrust forcefully, grinding his cock into Sommer’s mouth and he was there. No way to back off. He rocked his hips, his calves scorching, and his need to jet close to detonating. Fucking her mouth, he thrust deeper, moving faster.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  “Oh. Fuck!” He released with a hurling force and his whole body convulsed. Again he jolted, and Sommer swallowed, sucking him hard as he powerfully shot into her mouth. A ricochet reaction. Every cell and pocket of air in his body contracted, drawing the essence of this woman into him. His body jerked and he held her head between his hands, grunting in supreme pleasure and flying high with one thought. In short order, he had to have Sommer, all of her—all the way.

  CHAPTER 12

  THROUGHOUT THE WEEK, Rory had been occupied all week with the last part of the cattle drive, and then dealing with his property. Sommer kept busy being on parent duty. No matter what she did, the nagging need to check up on her mom had yet to settle after the last go round. She stayed at home when she could, keeping an eye on Momma when Aunt Belinda couldn’t. In the evenings, they played bridge and she helped Momma out in the garden. Although she spoke with Rory all the time, she missed him. And now that missing him included being haunted by the feel of his body—being touched by him, intimately in ways she’d never imagined possible.

  Clock watching abated when a group of bridesmaids showed up on Wednesday at the Tattooed Rose. Seven women who were eager to do something a little racy that didn’t involve going to Dallas. Four tattoos and three piercings later, Sommer’s day was done.

  Thursday came and went. Only one tattoo customer. A small heart hidden on the woman’s derrière. Done. Her confusion grew with her restlessness, so she got busy, working on her shirts; cutting, knotting, and adding more photos of them to her Etsy account. Then Friday rolled around and here she sat with her ear buds in place, her iPod cranked, and her last customer nearly finished. She patted the puffy ink lines, spreading out over the skin on her client’s shoulders. Standing up, she studied her work: an intricate set of tattooed wings. The guy had called yesterday and said he’d seen her work on Hellhound’s site. Daria, his girlfriend who’d come with him, got up as well.

  “The wings look awesome,” Daria said. “Better than the guitarist’s. You freehanded these designs?”

  “Part. Wanted this set to be different.” Sommer smiled, pointing to the interlocking bands and picked up a new gun for shading, and adjusted the settings on her ink machine.

  “So cool.” Daria was about to touch the tattoo but Sommer reached out swiftly.

  “Can’t touch. Not yet,” she replied. When her client tried to lift upward, she moved and stopped him. “Not so fast. A little more, just a touch up, and then you’re through.”

  “Daria, do ya dig it?” he asked.

  “So much.” The girl took out her phone and took a picture. “See for yourself.”

  Her client stared at the screen of his girlfriend’s cell and then unleashed a huge smile. “Baby, post it.”

  Second tat in a week to get posted. Apparently, someone had tagged her in the Facebook photo post as the ink artist for Vince’s new tat. She would check out the Hellhound’s band site later and see for herself. Thinking of Vince, her mind drifted to Ivy, and Sommer suddenly realized, this was the first time in months that she wasn’t in the midst of a slew of rapid fire texts between her, Ivy, and Jen. Her chest tightened and she chewed the side of her mouth, laying down the last couple lines on the tattoo.

  Not that Ivy had disappeared into a black hole on the West Coast. Ivy had sent her scads of texts and messages over the last three days. Photos of L.A., Hellhound—lots of Vince and her, the place they were staying, the beaches, and the ginormous palm trees. She couldn’t get over how everything looked so frigging green…and tan. Around here, the grass was golden—what there was left of it at the end of the summer, and not so green or lush. Sure, folks here were tan. Like Rory from working without a shirt. And Lord, she’d gotten a taste of him, and tonight hoped for another gourmet selection of his captivating body.

  So she wasn’t jealous, just missed Ivy. More since Jen had dropped off the face of the earth.

  No matter how hard she’d pestered Rory, he refused to discuss the Labor Day barbeque blowout between him and Mike, saying it was ranch business. But that equation didn’t balance when Jen was on one side and not part of the ranch. Jen didn’t associate with Mike as far as Sommer could recall. So what the hell had happened?

  “Done,” she announced, turning off her ink machine and stowing her equipment.

  “Way too cool,” the girl announced. “I’m coming back next week for my own.”

  “Call me. When you’re ready.” She’d heard this reaction before. Lots of people wanted a tattoo, but not everyone had the desire and the balls to get one done.

  Getting up from her stool, she already had the aftercare instruction and bottle of lotion ready at the counter. She removed the apron she wore to safeguard her pastel pink shirt, a product of past experience after ruining far too much of her clothing from ink, and pushed the sheet across to her customer. “Read this. Don’t rub or itch your tattooed skin. No sun. No water. And when there is sun, use protection.”

  “Gotcha,” he said and reached into his pocket. He peeled off crisp new bills and laid his payment on the glass counter. “You got a card?”

  She tapped the holder. “Take one of these. I’m listed.” After picking up the bills, she said, “Thanks. Nice working with you.”

  Her phone chirped, vibrating against the counter, and she reached for it, after waving a goodbye. She swiped her thumb over the screen and read the text: Take a look.

  Expecting another message from Ivy, she smiled but quickly realized it was Rory’s name blazing on her cell screen. She scrolled downward and her eyes widened, encountering the first photograph. Out on his piece of heaven, he sent her a photo of the large trailer currently situated on his land. Rory was serious when he said he’d have his place by the end of the month. He should have said end of the week. Did his family do anything small scale?

  Holy, holy cow!!! Welcome home, McLemore.

  He sent several more. Here’s the inside. Needs furniture. And you!

  She sent back: How about a picnic? 2night. I’ll pick up some things and come to you.

  PERFECT. LOVE YOU, KINCAID.

  Love you right back, Cowboy!

  The bell on the front door chimed and she pressed send, looking over and meeting the grinning face of Mike. “Howdy,” he said, softly closing the door as his eyes roved down her to her chest. His grin widened, so much he bared his teeth into a hungry jeer.

  She stiffened, standing erect, and lowered her hand, pushing her cell phone into her back pocket. “Shopping for a tattoo?” she asked, praying he’d say no. Rachel was here, but involved in an intricate design and not likely to be free this afternoon.

  “Not today,” he chuckled, leaning over the glass counter and staring at the metal rings in the top cases. “I stopped by ‘cause I have an issue, and I’m pretty sure, you’ll prove helpful in solving.”

  “Look if it involves Evermore, I can’t help you.”

  “No princess,” he said, “I’m sure you know Evermore isn’t on my radar. Naw, what brings me around might be of interest to you.

  “Interest to me?” she
shook her head, now more than confused, and starting to feel wary as well. She looked over toward the door leading to the hallway, but of course couldn’t see down to Rachel’s ink station. “What are you talking about?”

  “A gambling debt,” he said in a stealthy, almost purring voice that wasn’t at all soft. His voice and his manner were sinister, laced with greed and assurance, like he held the last card in a game she was losing. This couldn’t be linked to Rory… Could it?

  He was toying with her. Men like Mike enjoyed this type of blind assault, the ugly cousin to the horrendous bully mentality that got right in a person’s face. But neither did he seem to have the guile for sophisticated tactics. If anything, he’d always reminded her a slithering snake, waiting to strike when a person least expected.

  “I don’t gamble,” she replied coolly, drawing out the words, employing the same tone and voice quality she used when Momma was manic. No way was this jerk was gonna own her.

  “Oh but I doubt that,” he quipped. “Funny, I believe you gamble very much. And hold one of the largest stakes in this county. But that’s putting the cart before the horse.”

  She mildly clenched and unclenched her numb fingers, waiting for this jackass to say what he came here for. “Is this going to take much longer…I have an appointment,” she said.

  “Look gorgeous, don’t be so high and mighty. You might have a line on the most eligible bachelor in the county, but don’t count your winnings just yet.”

  Inhaling, she lifted her eyes and stared into his. “Get to the point, Mike.”