| |
One year later
My wife looks like Madonna from her “Like a Virgin” video and it’s more than a little hot. We’re at an ‘80s prom theme party at Ironwing. She even perfected the dirty-sexy look. The one that promises nasty, nasty sex. She’s wearing white, but she looks like the bad girl who did naughty things below the bleachers in high school. The kind of girl who can steer you around the curves.
I’m the luckiest man alive.
We’ve just toasted Tru and Nash for the hundredth time. He’s in for it now. Tru is pregnant, and I can’t wait to see him go through the hell the rest of us have trying to pretend to be cool while you’re always worried about your wife and all the things that could go wrong.
And my wife and daughter are my world.
Across the crowd, our eyes meet in silent acknowledgement. I'm handed another damned drink. Without thinking, I drain the glass, feeling it buzz right through me. No time for second thoughts, another soon follows. Jesus. We’re going to have to walk home.
I make the rounds to be polite, congratulating Nash again, laughing at Leo when I hear he’s got twins on the way, thanking Christopher when he tells me to avoid Stella unless I want a new kitten. I watch Katie from the corner of my eye, drinking and laughing with everyone. I want so badly to run my hands over her, to rub my body against hers, to lick her from top to bottom.
Suddenly, this party is stifling. It's too much, I have to get away. I excuse myself from the newly reunited band members of Ironwing I'm talking to and head across the bar. The floor feels a little sticky and like it’s moving. I've had too much to drink. That’s when I see Katie coming out of the bathroom.
Want. Need runs white hot in my veins. I need her. Now. She sends me an arch smile, like she can read my thoughts.
I join her at the threshold of the bathroom.
“Having fun, Nick?” she asks.
I push her back into the bathroom and click the lock into place. She doesn’t have time to breathe before my arms are wrapped around her and my lips are pressed against hers. Her hands wind their way around my neck, pulling me closer, pressing our bodies tightly together.
“We could get caught,” she says.
“I guess you’ll have to be quiet when I make you come,” I tell her.
I swallow her gasp in a frenzied kiss. Our tongues are caressing over one another, tasting and testing. Our hands are grappling with our clothing, trying to get to skin without having to let go of each other.
She gets frustrated at the lack of progress, and finally tugs her dress straps down her arms, baring her breasts to my hungry hands and mouth. She’s careful not to rip my shirt, but the patience it takes to let her undo the buttons is pure torture. She finally gets it off, and my hands are on her, my skin heating under her stroking hands. My mouth is busy nibbling on her breasts, and she unzips me, spilling my rock-hard cock into her palms. She wraps it in a fist and starts to stroke. Up and down, over and over, stroking over my swollen, pulsing flesh.
“Fuck. You’re such a perfect, nasty girl. I bet everyone in the bar knows we’re in here. What you’re doing. How you need my cock so much you can’t even wait until we get home.”
She tightens the fist wrapped around my cock and uses the other to push me away from her. An evil little smile that says naughty things spreads across her face as her eyes lock with mine and she lowers to her knees. She wraps her lips around the head of my dick then sucks the whole rigid length deep into her mouth. I lose my balance, fall forward, and grab the counter for support, groaning loudly at the wet sensation of her expert mouth.
She pumps my aching cock, making me twitch in her mouth, and she sucks harder and faster, pushing me to the brink. I put a hand at the back of her head, fisting it in her hair, holding her head in place.
“Such a dirty girl, aren’t you? I guess you can’t answer with your mouth full, though, can you?”
She pulls off and says, “Take me rough, honey.”
I take her pumping hand away from my cock and fuck her mouth, forcing the entire length of my dick to the back of her throat and back again. I’m so close to exploding, I pull her head back by the hair, pulling my cock from her lips, yanking her up to kiss her, drawing a strangled moan from deep inside her.
“My naughty little angel is going to get fucked in the bathroom of a bar.” I push a hand under her dress, finding nothing but skin. “Fuck. All night you’ve been naked under that dress?” I moan loudly, rocking myself against her. I grip her ass and lift her onto the counter. With one hand, I push both her hands against the mirror, trapping her between the cold pane and my feverish body. My hand under her dress is rubbing over her glistening pussy, her already swollen clit.
“You need to see this, too, princess.” I pull her down and bend her over a porcelain sink. “Look in the mirror.”
We watch ourselves in the reflection. She looks so vulnerable and small in this position, so exposed under the bright light overhead. I can’t take it anymore and shove in hard, fast and deep into her hot, swollen wet lips. Then I hold still, feeling her tighten around me as she waits for me to move again.
“Is this what you wanted when you left your panties at home? A good fucking in the bathroom where you used to work? All our friends right outside the door?”
She moans, watching our reflection as the long, slow slide of my dick stretches her open and her pussy clings to me as I pull back. “Such a dirty girl.”
“Oh, yes, Professor. Fuck me like a bad girl.”
In response, I force her legs farther apart with my own and tangle my hand in the hair at the back of her head. I tug, pulling her upward roughly, shifting her position so that every thrust of my hips grinds her clit into the edge of the sink.
Her pussy clenches and unclenches around me in just a few strokes. I have no choice but to join, pulsing inside of her while she comes, releasing all the pent-up pressure. I keep thrusting, pushing into her so hard, so deep.
We're both covered in sweat, slick with cum, out of breath and voice. We get dressed quickly and she tries to fix her hair, but all the hairspray from the ‘80s costume is making it impossible.
A knock on the door brings us both back to reality.
Our eyes meet in the mirror and she giggles.
“You two about done in there? We’ve got more than one pregnant woman out here who needs the restroom.”
Fuck. It’s Stella. No way this stays a secret now. Unless...damn it. The last thing I need is another pet, but it’s really the only way. I open the door, blocking my wife from view. “Stella, I’ve been thinking about getting a kitten.”
––––––––
FILTHY SWEET, RIGHT? If you enjoyed Don’t Get Me Wrong, please consider leaving a review so other readers who love steamy romance with laughs can find their next obsession.
The swooning doesn’t have to end here for you, though. I’m a fan of awkward, nerdy heroines and burly, dominating alpha heroes who have the ooey-gooiest hearts ever. We like to call them: alphamallows.
If you’re tired of billionaires, maybe you’re ready for some real men. Dirty, hardworking, and good with their hands are the kind of heroes you’ll find in the Blue Collar Bad Boy Series. These guys aren’t cultured. They are hot AF alpha heroes who know how to take care of the slightly nerdy women they fall for. For reals, this series is more fun than you knew you were missing. And they don’t need to be read in order.
So which blue collar bad boy will you choose next? They are all rough, raw, and surprisingly sweet.
Like...the roadhouse bouncer and the actuarial sciences student in Bounced.
Or...the carpenter and the Jeopardy! nerd in Nailed.
Perhaps...the oil rigger and the kindergarten teacher in Drilled.
Mayhap...the tow truck driver and the sorority uptown girl in Wrecked.
Surely...the brick layer hot single dad and the babysitter in Laid.
How about...a returning military hero and the wallflower at Christmas in Tagged?
Or...the farmer who needs a wife and wants the curvy waitress in Plowed?
Or...the hot rancher trying to convince the city girl to stay in Bucked?
Maybe...the bomb squad cop and his pregnant neighbor? Did I mention she’s a virgin? You read that right. Try Banged.
And surely...the modern day Viking bartender and the bookworm virgin in Tapped?
About the author
Like first times? Forbidden fruit? Yes, please.
Love a hot, dominant alpha claiming what's his? Fuck, yeah.
Want to watch him fall hard for the sweetest fantasy he didn't know he needed? Me too!
I'm Brill Harper and I love happily ever afters, smokin' hot bad boys, and quirky, often nerdy, heroines that I'd love to be friends with off page. These ladies are not perfect—but they're perfect for one man—and he's always sexy AF.
Seriously—these heroes only have one weakness, and it's sticky, sweet love. They don't let anything stand in the way of taking what belongs to them. When it comes to the women they love, it's hard cocks, dirty talk, and soft, mushy heart feels.
*Brill is a sooper sekrit penname for a better known author who just can't handle all the dirty. She can't handle it...but can you?
Follow me on: BookBub