SEALed Bride: A Bad Boy Romance (Includes bonus novel Jerked!) (41 page)

It was salty and thick and warm and sweet all at once, and it was exactly what I had wanted.

Finally, his orgasm finished. I slid him from my mouth and licked him clean, making sure to get every drop.

He looked down at me and I looked back up at him. He grinned, and I smiled back, and then he laughed.

“That was fucking ....”

“Sorry,” I blushed, realizing what I had just done.

“Don’t ever apologize for that. You’re fucking amazing.”

He smashed his mouth against mine, kissing me deeply. I was surprised but eased into the kiss. He crouched down in front of me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling my body against his muscular chest. We kissed deeply like that, still somehow needing each other.

Finally it ended, although I never wanted it to.

“Do you think anyone saw?” I said into his ear.

He laughed. “I sure fucking hope so.”

I could feel the red in my cheeks. But for some reason, I didn’t mind it.

T
he image of her ripping off the condom and sucking my dick like it was the last thing in the entire world would never leave me. It was practically seared into my brain. I knew it was a risk, but I also knew that if I had never fucked her up on that roof deck then I would have regretted it forever.

I lay on my bed in my own room while Bren was off in the shower. I still couldn’t believe how excited she was when I talked about showing her off to the neighborhood.
That little exhibitionist,
I thought with a grin. I felt my cock begin to stiffen already in defiance of normal human biology.

That was what she did to me. She had no clue but I wanted to touch and lick every fucking inch of her body and take her on every inch of the world. The fact that she wanted to taste my cum sent shivers down my spine.

I had never intended to let myself get so sucked into her, but it happened. It was probably inevitable, really, despite how hard we both resisted it at first. I’d been dreaming about her for years, imagining what could have been, and suddenly she showed back up looking fucking incredible. I couldn’t help but try and press her buttons again.

The shower turned off in the other room and I pictured her stepping out of it dripping wet.

Fuck, she was going to be the death of me.

I stood up, wearing only my boxer briefs and a tight white beater, and opened my door. I grinned as Bren walked down the hall connecting the bathroom and her bedroom.

“Where are you going?” I called out.

She looked at me. “My room. Policing my every move now?”

I grinned and stepped out into the hall. She blinked and stared at me.

“Not at all. Just wanted to see you in that towel.”

She rolled her eyes. “How are you still horny?”

I laughed. “Horny? What are we, fifteen?”

“What do you want me to say? Aroused?  Worked up?”

“I don’t know. But horny makes me sound like a teenage kid.”

“Maybe that’s what you are.”

I stopped right in front of her and raised my eyebrow.

“Does a teenage kid have this?” I quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand against my half-hard dick. She giggled and squeezed it.

“Maybe some do.”

“I don’t think so, Princess.”

She gave me a look. “Seriously, how are you still hard?”

“That’s like asking me how I breathe.”

She laughed. “You’re insane.”

I moved a little closer to her and noticed that her hand lingered on my crotch. I felt myself begin to stiffen even more.

“Not insane. Just insatiable.”

“Big word for a dumb mob guy.”

“I’ve been doing my homework lately.”

“Oh yeah? For what class?”

I smirked. “Biology.”

She rolled her eyes. “Good one. Seriously, Colin, I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Can’t! I think I’m going to walk bow-legged for the rest of my life.”

That did it. My cock began to grow even harder. She laughed, noticing.

“Thinking about my poor sore vagina is making you even harder?” she asked. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“I want to make sure it stays sore for a very long time.”

She smiled and stepped closer, her hand wrapping harder around my dick. I was surprised I was so hard, but then again, Bren did that to me. She brought out something deep and hungry that I had always known was there, but that had stayed buried.

She was the only thing that could feed the starving monster inside of me.

“And how are you going to do that?” she said, getting close.

I pulled her tight against me and bit her lower lip. She giggled.

“I’m going to make sure you stay wet. I’m going to ruin every pair of panties you own. You’ll live in those yoga pants, and I’ll ruin them, too.”

“How will ruining all my clothes keep me sore? Also, that doesn’t sound very hygienic.”

“Once you’re stripped down in front of me, we both know you’ll take my dick. The less clothing you have, the better.”

She gaped at me and then crushed my mouth with an intense kiss, her hand tightening around my dick.

I wanted to destroy her and consume her. I wanted to never be away from her.

And just as her hand began to stroke my shaft, an ear-splitting alarm began to blare throughout the house.

I pulled away from her fast.

“What the fuck?” she yelled over the noise.

I grabbed her by the elbow and moved toward her room. She stumbled after me, saying something, but I couldn’t hear her over the alarm. I threw her door open and pushed her inside, steering her toward the bed. I pushed her down onto it and pressed my mouth against her ear.

“Stay here. Don’t fucking leave this room until I come back,” I said.

“What’s happening?” she yelled.

I looked at her and could see fear etched in every line on her face.

“That’s the house alarm. Someone tried to break in,” I said into her ear.

She stared at me.

“Don’t move,” I yelled. “Lock the door.”

She nodded.

I turned and moved out of her room, slamming the door shut behind me. I ran back down to my room, moved over to my desk, and grabbed my knife from the drawer. I flipped it open then stalked back out into the hall, moving soft and quiet.

The alarm was loud. It would have woken up the dead, if that were even possible. I was glad it wasn't. I had enough to deal with, and didn’t need zombies wandering around the place, too.

I moved down the back staircase, my heart hammering in my chest. It had to be Fabrizio. Nobody else in the whole city was stupid enough to try and break into O’Brian’s house. They knew that would mean starting a war with the Irish Mob, and starting a war with them meant getting your ass killed.

And I was in the mood to do some killing. That motherfucker interrupted me when Bren had her hand on my dick. All of the other garbage was enough to piss me off, maybe earn him a beating to within an inch of his life, but interrupting me when I was about to take Bren how I wanted meant instant death. I couldn’t forgive that.

Knife gripped in my hand, I came out into the kitchen. The place was empty. I walked over to the control panel and looked at the beeping light. Apparently, the front door was what set the alarm off. I keyed in a few commands and shut down the awful screaming noise.

I stood quietly and listened. I couldn’t hear anything but my own heart and breath, and even those were as faint as possible. I moved on the balls of my feet down the hall, keeping close to the wall. Fabrizio would likely have a gun if he was packing, and I had to make sure I could get close if I was going to win that fight.

And I was going to win that fight.

Up ahead, the hall turned, opening up into the foyer. I crouched down and looked around the corner, expecting to see Fabrizio trying to struggle through the glass window.

Instead, lying in broken glass was a single red brick.

I stood and walked carefully into the foyer, looking around. Nothing else was out of place. The door was still standing and the other blast- and bullet-proof windows were still intact. The only real glass window was that small, decorative plate on the front door, designed to crumble in case of a bomb to help channel energy away from critical stuff. Or something. O’Brian had explained it to me once, but I had only been half listening. At least I knew that window was the only thing a brick could have broken through on the entire fucking house.

I stared at it, lying alone in the broken glass, with a piece of paper wrapped around its length.

How the fuck could he have known the brick would go through that particular window? If he had tried any of the other windows, the alarm would have gone off, and we would have known. Which meant that his first try went right in the single weak spot in the entire house. It wasn’t big enough for a person to sneak through, but it was the perfect size for a brick.

I shook my head, anger lancing through my veins. Jimmy was right. The Irish Mob had a fucking rat, and he was working with Vince Fabrizio. There was no other explanation, and I couldn’t keep denying it any longer.

I crouched down, careful not to step in the shards, and picked up the brick. I unwrapped the paper and held it up.

I’m coming for my wife
was written in thick black Sharpie.

I laughed. What a bold piece of shit. And a dead one, too. I tossed the brick back on the ground and walked upstairs, the message clenched in my hand. I walked down to Bren’s room and tried the handle, but it was locked.

“Bren, it’s me,” I called out.

“Colin?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, everything is okay.”

The door unlocked and she pulled it open. I could see the fear still lingering in her face.

“What happened?”

I sighed. “Promise not to freak out?”

“Colin, what happened?”

“Your husband threw a brick through the front window.”

“I thought those were blast proof or whatever?”

“Well, they are. Except the decorative window in the front door. And somehow he knew to aim right for that.”

She paused, digesting that information. “How would he know?”

“You know how.”

She nodded and looked away. “Somebody told him.”

“Things are getting more dangerous, Bren.”

“Colin....”

“Listen to me.” I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against me. I was still in nothing but my underwear and my beater, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore but keeping her safe. “If someone on the inside is helping Fabrizio, it’s only a matter of time before he gets to you here. You think it’s bad now? Imagine three weeks from now with constant threats from that psycho. Maybe we catch him and maybe we don’t. Do you really want to live that way?”

“No,” she said softly.

“No, you don’t. But if we go to O’Brian’s farmhouse right now, you can be safe.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of course you’re afraid. Your psycho ex is trying to hunt you down.” She smiled a little at my joke. “But I’m not going to let you out of my sight until we get the fucker.”

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay, you’ll come to the country with me?”

She sighed. “Yeah, fine. If that’s what it’ll take.”

I grinned. “You’re not going to regret this.”

“I probably will.”

I kissed her again quickly then moved away.

“Get packed. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

She blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. I know where it is. I’ll call your dad and we’ll head out.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

I gave her another grin then went back into my room and began to throw my shit into a duffle bag. I made sure I brought both of my guns and my knives, plus some comfortable clothes. I probably wouldn’t need to pack heat out there, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least have it on me at all times.

When I was done, I called O’Brian’s phone. It went to voicemail.

“Sir, it’s me. I convinced your daughter that the country is the safest place for her right now. We’re leaving in fifteen. Call if you need something.”

I hung up and tossed the phone into my bag. I pulled on some clothes and looked around the room.

It wasn’t exactly home, though it was at one point, a long time ago. I wasn’t going to miss it. I threw my duffle over my shoulder and walked back over to Bren’s room and watched as she lazily picked through her clothes, tossing her stuff onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Packing.”

I laughed then walked over to her closet and pulled out her suitcase. I threw it down on the floor, opened it, and began to fill it with clothes.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“Packing.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Fine, okay. Let’s do this.”

With a laugh, we began to throw her stuff into the suitcase. In less than five minutes, we had it packed to the brim. She had to sit on the lid while I zipped it up.

“Think you got enough stuff in there?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ll survive.” She eyed my small duffle. “You are not borrowing my underwear.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She picked up her over-full suitcase and looked at me. “Well, let’s get going.”

I took the suitcase from her and nodded. “Follow me.”

We walked down the front steps together, careful not to step in the glass. I felt the weight of my gun in its holster on my side as we pushed the front door open. Half of me expected to see Fabrizio standing right there, waiting, but there was nothing.

“Wait here for a second,” I said.

She nodded. I slipped down the steps and quickly did a sweep of the block, making sure nobody was around to see us leave. When I was reasonably sure there were no suspicious figures lurking nearby, I found where I parked my car, started the engine, and then pulled it around the front of the house.

We had some driving ahead of us, but in the end, we’d be safe enough in a beautiful farmhouse out in the country.

And I would have Bren all to myself.

W
hen he said “farmhouse,” I expected a quaint but old and crumbling country home. Maybe wicker furniture on the wraparound porch, or maybe some old and peeling red shutters. I assumed there would be at least one tractor. But when we pulled out in front of the building, I was shocked at what I saw.