My Mom's Fiance: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 4

  Except now she’s gonna be my stepdaughter?

  Holy fuck, no.

  But there was no sense in letting on in front of the crowd. Besides, I’m a master of disguise. I don’t show my emotions unless absolutely necessary.

  So sticking out a fist, I took that sweet hand in mine, and shook it like we’d never met before.

  “Jake Mason,” was my smooth reply.

  Lacey blushed at nothing in particular. Or maybe at our touch. And fuck, but it set me off, because the girl is so goddamn beautiful.

  Last night should have been nothing. It was a way for me to blow off steam before putting on another show for the woman I was marrying in a few weeks. Amanda wasn’t giving up the pussy, and I’m horny guy 24/7. Even at forty-five, my dick needs a work-out at least once a day.

  And shit, did it ever get one last night.

  With my fiancée’s fucking daughter no less.

  God damn.

  “Why so formal?” Amanda cooed, smiling fakely. “We’re going to be family now. You guys should at least hug.”

  Lacey looked like she’d rather run the other way than put her arms around me. At least not in front of her mother. Because last night, she’d thrown her arms around me while screaming, that anus drilled so deep.

  Damn.

  Hot shit, man, real hot shit.

  Last night had been one the best experiences of my life. Despite being horny as fuck, I hadn’t gone to the bar to score some ass, not really. That dive wasn’t even the type of place I normally like. It had too many Jersey girls and lame ass guidos with their gelled hair and gym muscles, all competing to fuck the same tired neighborhood chicks.

  But I’d been bored after a shitty work trip that hadn’t gone well. Fresh from the airport, I was too out of it to tell the driver to drop me off at the high-class members only joint I usually frequent. So after a short walk from my apartment, I ended up at the dark and crowded dive.

  The VIP area had been laughably cheap with worn carpeting and cheesy purple velvet loungers. Really assholes? You think this is what class looks like? They needed to fire their interior decorator stat.

  At least it gave me a chance to stretch my legs and watch the rest of the place. But it wasn’t long before I regretted even stepping foot in the shit hole. The club was wall to wall muscle heads sprinkled with stick-thin girls practically falling over from fake boob jobs. Yeah, top heavy in a bad way.

  But then I saw her.

  Cute and curvy, Lacey was more librarian than the usual party girl. Her curly brown hair surrounded a face that was too sweet for a place called Sizzles. But those huge tits and thick hips made me want to taste. Oh yeah.

  And when she walked over, it was like a dream come true. My cock stiffened as her mouth opened. But then she asked me to dance and I practically bust my gut laughing. Dance? Holy shit. What was this, junior high? The only kind of dancing I’d do with a girl like this was between the sheets. Hard and fast. Deep and rough.

  Yeah, I’m not exactly a good guy.

  Not by a long shot.

  Because in a few weeks, I was getting married to Amanda. Ring on the finger, and all that bullshit. Not exactly the love of my life, not by a long shot. But even if it was more business arrangement than old-fashioned attraction, I should’ve kept it in my pants.

  But fuck that. I hadn’t had pussy in weeks, and Lacey was a ripe peach inscribed with the word temptation.

  Watching the female, I had a vague thought of inviting her into the club bathroom so I could ream her ass in semi-private but she’d licked those full lips again, nipples poking out at me through the cloth. So the bathroom was out. Right here was real good, thank you very much.

  Because in an instant, I’d dragged her onto my cock like a starving dog, making her hump my dick with dancers whirling on the floor below. I’d parted those thick thighs and fucked right into her waiting hole, groaning at the tender squeeze.

  And even though my future stepdaughter was staring at me now, clearly trying to act like nothing was wrong, there was no regret at all. Did I feel bad? Naw. If anything, I felt fucking powerful and confident, eyeing that curvy frame once more.

  My only real problem was not dragging her off for more of what I had last night. Her ass was so fucking tight and she’d responded like a wet dream to the deep-dicking. Aw shit. Just thinking about it, my meat got hard again, right there with her mom and aunt a few feet away.

  Fuck my life.

  If only I could taste her again.

  If only I could get her in private.

  But the thing is, Lacey was freaking out. Her façade was crumbling, and I needed to put a stop to that.

  “Naw, no worries, Amanda,” came my low growl. “We’ll have plenty of time for hugs once we get to know each other better.”

  I tried to make it sound like it was no big deal. But shit, did my dick want to touch the luscious female. The purple dress set my imagination on fire with the way it stretched tight across the chest, putting those big, juicy tits on full display. Aw, fuck me. My balls literally hurt, sizzling so bad.

  I shoved my hands in the pockets of my slacks and at least tried to hide how my dick was filling out fast just watching Lacey. With a monster like the one I was packing, it was difficult as hell though. In these thin ass pants, you could practically see my hard-on from outer space.

  “Fine. No hugs,” Amanda proclaimed airily. “Let’s sit down then, it’s time to drink the champagne!” she shrilled.

  And as I watched, the aunt guided Lacey away, their arms linked. But I couldn’t afford to appear distracted. This was my engagement lunch. I was marrying Amanda, the mom. Not the daughter.

  Because I need Amanda’s connections. After working in Chicago, I’m expanding my empire to NYC. But this city doesn’t part its legs unless there’s magic. So yeah, as a billionaire developer, I’m marrying one of the top realtors in Manhattan for her rolodex. Ruthless? Check. Asshole move? Check. Divorce in the future? Check, check, check, as soon as I have all the hook-ups she promised.

  Because yeah, this isn’t the real thing, not really. We haven’t even slept together. It’s Amanda’s idea. She thinks taking a man’s sperm in her body will make her age faster. When she told me, I’d practically bust a nut from the joke.

  “Don’t laugh,” she said crossly. “Seriously, sperm isn’t good for a mature female.”

  I guffawed then, practically doubled over.

  “Says who?” was my reply.

  “My doctor,” said Amanda airily, vaguely waving her hand. “Mr. Kaboo from Queens says that I need to avoid semen because it’ll give me wrinkles.”

  Mr. Kaboo? Are you shitting me? From Queens? Even I, as a newcomer to the city, knew a quack when I saw one.

  But Amanda was adamant.

  “Not until we’re married,” she said firmly. “Then you can put it in,” she reiterated, eyeing my giant snake.

  Normally, I don’t let women tell me no. It’s my way or the highway, sweetheart, and that includes putting your pussy on the line.

  But in this case, it didn’t really matter. After all, it was just a sham marriage. I’d just get it somewhere else, hence, the dirty assfucking last night.

  But oh shit. After getting a taste of Lacey’s tight butt and thick hips, all I wanted was more. A giant, heart-shaped ass in my bed, breasts I could squeeze like stress dolls, and an abundant body to flow like silk over my sheets.

  After one fuck, Lacey already had me greedy as a pig.

  But we were still at my engagement lunch, all dolled up with no place to go. Amanda giggled again, smiling at me for show.

  “Jakey,” she purred. “I have to keep this body nice and tight for the honeymoon.” She laughed lightly again, perfume heavy like poison. That smell was nothing like Lacey’s soft and delicate scent, one I could bury my nose in while I was filling her ass with my dick.

  Fuck, I was in so much trouble with this chickadee.

  But my fiancée was on a roll, completely clueless.


  “I can’t wait to move into your place after the wedding,” Amanda gushed, squeezing my arm with a red-nailed hand. “My decorator friend already has some great ideas about how to freshen up your bachelor pad.”

  Silently, I cursed. My “bachelor pad” was just fine the way it was. Dark wood, massive TV, everything masculine and imposing. Shit, things were already taking a turn for the worse. But we’d divorce before she could get her claws on my place, so it was no big deal right? Breathe, said my subconscious. Breathe.

  And somehow I made it through. Needless to say, the lunch was a farce. I was there, but not there, smiling and nodding like a stupid Ken doll. And the whole time, Amanda sat next to me, chattering non-stop, mostly about the upcoming wedding and the honeymoon she’d planned for Bali.

  I should have been paying attention to her, but that voice was a slipstream, in one ear and out the other. Because with Lacey sitting across the table, I couldn’t stop thinking about dipping my fuckstick into her asshole again.

  Yeah, that’s right. At my own engagement lunch, I was thinking about my stepdaughter’s anus.

  Fuck me.

  I’m so screwed.

  But shit, but the chickadee didn’t help. Because everything she did was so goddamn sensuous. The brunette asked for a helping of both the fish and the chicken, and devoured her meal with an intense appetite that was ravishing. Every time she opened her mouth and eased the fork between those glossy lips, I thought of feeding her my cock and training that virgin throat to take me.

  Aw crap.

  This was fucking torture.

  Grow a pair, I growled at myself before ordering a double whiskey. Grow a pair and get with fucking reality.

  Fortunately, the meal was almost over.

  “Dessert, sir?”

  A stiff-necked waiter appeared at my shoulder with a small square menu. Man, there was a lot of fancy shit on here, like chocolate eclairs with chopped pistachio and vanilla hazelnut cream gelato. But I didn’t feel like eating another thing.

  “No thanks,” was my grunt.

  But Lacey didn’t hold back at all. The beautiful brunette scrutinized the small print before bestowing the waiter with a glowing smile.

  “Yes, red velvet cheesecake please,” she murmured. “That sounds delicious, thank you.”

  And shit, but when it came, I was never so turned on. The way she ate that whipped cream? It was pure torture, watching Lacey fork thick white gobs into her mouth. The whole time, I imagined another kind of cream dribbling from the corners of those parted lips. She would take my cock so good, that throat stretching like a pro.

  I reached under the table to adjust my stiff package. Fuck. My eyes ate up every inch of that curvy body, caressing her tits, even imagining that tiny asshole again. It’d been so hot and dry up there. Would it welcome me again?

  And Lacey could feel my gaze for sure. Swallowing heavily, she visibly jumped and then suddenly shoved back her chair with a loud screech.

  “Excuse me,” the girl muttered, refusing to look my way. Instead, the female took off towards the back of the restaurant, practically running.

  “Is she okay?”

  Her aunt frowned, looking over her shoulder toward Lacey’s retreating back.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Amanda said breezily. “Probably just overate,” the blonde murmured in a hushed voice, like she was sharing a secret. “I keep telling her to skip lunch and stop snacking, college boys don’t like heavy girls. But does my daughter listen? No,” she concluded, flipping her hair over a slim shoulder. “Lacey eats like a pig no matter what.”

  I should have been outraged because what mother talks about her daughter like that? One, it was fucking rude, and two, this was her flesh and blood for crying out loud.

  But I couldn’t let on. It was too early and would give away too much. So for a full three minutes, I sat in my chair slowly sipping whisky and savoring the burn of the liquor, watching the hands tick away the seconds on my watch. And when the second hand hit twelve, I stood up and excused myself, heading to the back of the restaurant.

  The brunette was there, for sure, right in the narrow corridor behind the restrooms. And when she saw me, those brown eyes blazed angrily. Gone was the shy and tipsy girl who’d begged for me to plug her ass.

  With no introduction, she hissed once I got close enough, almost spitting fire.

  “You can’t look at me like that.”

  I arched an eyebrow at her lazily.

  “What do you mean?” came my drawl.

  But I knew exactly how I’d been looking at her. I just didn’t realize it’d been that obvious. But then the door to the women’s room opened and a waitress bustled out, forcing me to stop for a moment.

  But once the intruder departed, I was back on it.

  “Are you telling me I can’t look at my new step-daughter?” I asked smoothly, eyeing that curvy form again.

  Sure, I was being an asshole, but there was something about those heaving tits and flushed cheeks that really got me going.

  “No! I mean yes!” Lacey hissed. “What the hell?”

  I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “You tell me, pretty girl,” I said, amused. “You tell me.”

  She looked angry enough to spit, full of fire and life.

  “I don’t get it,” she said. “You have sex with me, and then show up here?” she asked, gesturing furiously with one hand. Those brown curls flew, cheeks flushed. “What’s going on? What the hell?”

  But again, I’m a triple-A asshole.

  “No shit,” I drawled again. “I’m here. I’m getting married. So what?”

  “But you’re getting married to my MOTHER!” she almost screamed this time.

  “True,” I said, baiting her, stroking my jaw like I was thinking. “True, true. Good point.”

  She snorted and whirled away then, the hem of her dress fluttering up around her knees. But even worse, Lacey looked like she was on the verge of another scream, and I couldn’t afford to let her family hear. Time to get this shit in hand. After a quick look around, I grabbed her arm and dragged the creamy female into the men’s room.

  Um yeah, not exactly the most romantic place. Industrial tile scrubbed gleaming white, with metal stalls. Even in a five-star joint, a bathroom is a bathroom.

  But at least it was clean and empty. And without another word, I dragged Lacey into the large handicap stall and slammed the door behind us, latching it tight.

  “Now that we’re not standing around in a public hallway having a private conversation, tell me what you’re trying to say,” I said lazily. “Let it all out, baby, let it out.”

  The brunette literally bared her teeth then, and I had to laugh. Shit, this girl was full of verve! I had to get into her, sooner rather than later. So I tried again.

  “What are you so worked up about?” came my drawl once more. “We were two people last night, male and female. We hit it off. So what?”

  She threw me an angry glaze, huffing with frustration.

  “That’s not even it,” bit out Lacey, those caramel eyes sparking. “You shouldn’t have been with anybody last night! You’re an engaged man.”

  Hmm, that was true, but clearly this little chickadee didn’t know the specifics of my arrangement with her mom. Should I tell her? Naw, better not. That was Amanda’s prerogative.

  So I took it easy.

  “There’s no need for you to get excited about who I fuck, princess. Although my cock appreciates your concern.”

  Which wasn’t strictly true. I wanted her to be intimately involved with my hard love muscle, especially after that meal. Watching her eat and lick the fork sensuously, squirming in her chair and heaving with pleasure, had kept me hard for an hour. I practically had zipper marks all along my schlong from being so ready to fuck.

  And I still wanted to get down. With her in particular.

  Lust ran hot through my balls, making them sizzle, filling out my dick even more. And before I knew it, my big frame
had crowded close to the brunette, forcing her against the cold metal wall. Those brown eyes dropped to the front of my pants, a gasp rushing from her throat.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered.

  I was halfway to giving her an apology for being such a horny old bastard when the female licked her lips, still staring at the massive ridge of my cock. Then it was game over. Fuck this shit.

  Because I’m not god. I’m not an angel, or a saint, not by a long shot. I’m an alpha male who’s ready to drill, and this little chickadee had pushed me to my limit.

  Grunting like an animal at the end of its rope, I pressed her against the wall and crushed her lips with mine.

  Oh shit, it was amazing. Because I didn’t taste her mouth last night. I just went straight for that wet pussy of hers and then her ass. But now … holy shit, this was heaven. Her mouth was luscious and hot, like cheesecake and cream, a combination fit for the gods. Pressed back into the wall, the female wriggled against me and made desperate, needy noises in the depths of her throat.

  But Lacey gives as good as she gets. Her fingernails dug into my stomach, clawing like she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Holy fuck, this little slut was right up my alley.

  But I’m an ass man through and through. I never pass up an opportunity.

  Dragging my mouth away from hers, I whispered harshly, eyes ravenous.

  “Turn around, princess. Let me see that butt.”

  And like a good girl, the brunette turned, putting her palms up against the wall. Oh yeah, that position was good. The “hands up, you win” posture was perfect because I was going to drill her right here. I yanked those panties off, and sure enough, but the little girl pushed that giant shelf out, luscious and tantalizing.

  She was bouncy in all the right places, making my dick throb and twitch, drizzling pre-cum. I had to have her. Right fucking now.

  Unzipping, I shoved my pants down, dick in hand and brushed her pussy hole with the tip of my dick faster than I could breathe her name. And now I had a name to go with the fantasy that I’d been indulging in all morning. Lacey. It was so right despite the fact that we were in the men’s room during my engagement lunch, getting ready to do the dirty.