Confessions of a Bad Boy Fighter (Bad Boy Confessions) Page 3

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

  We click glasses and after another very big drink, I ask, “Do you ever get lonely? Being on the road all the time.”

  “I don’t really have any reason to stay in one place.”

  He shrugs like it’s nothing but I get the sense that it’s something—that he’s not tell me the whole truth—even though he’s been open and honest with me up until now. Maybe the fact that he has no one embarrasses him. I nod and think back to high school. He had potential, for sure, but his home life sucked. I think his father was even arrested for assaulting Harding in our senior year, but I’m not about to bring that up. He had no one rooting for him, urging him to do more with his life. Too bad, really.

  My napkin falls to the floor. I bend, but Harding is there first, gathering it in his big hand before I can reach it. He takes my cloth napkin and gives me his clean one in return. He’s so rough and tough in the ring, but this is another side of him, a tender one I like a lot.

  “I never knew you were such a gentleman, Harding.”

  “No?”

  “I guess I just thought…” I let my words fall off. What the heck am I supposed to say? I thought you just wanted to fuck?

  “Thought what?” he pushes.

  “That we would go back to your hotel and just have sex,” I blurt out, then instantly wish I could take back my words.

  His eyes darken, and his muscles go stiff. “You were nervous. I wasn’t going to touch you until you wanted me to.”

  My heart squeezes at the sweet gesture, so I give myself a quick lecture. Careful, girl. You could fall for a guy like him.

  “So you’re saying you did just want to go back to your place to have sex.” I’m not sure whether to feel happy or sad about that, because I’m enjoying this moment and getting to know him better.

  “There are a lot of things I want to do with you and yes, fucking is one of them. But I wanted to get reacquainted first. You see, Adeline, when I take you, I want you ready and eager, and you should know that I’m not always a gentleman.”

  Why does that excite me so much? Oh, maybe because I’ve only been with one other guy and that experience left me with a bad taste in my mouth and not eager to go through it again. But, after one night in Harding’s bed, I have no doubt I’ll walk away feeling something else altogether. I wet my dry lips, my body urging me to spread my legs and let this man do whatever it is he wants to do to me.

  “Here’s the thing, though.” He leans toward me, so close I can feel his breath on my face. “If you keep licking your lips like that, I’ll have to take you before we get back to the hotel.”

  I gasp and find myself licking my lips again. God, am I doing it on purpose? I think I might be. Good Lord, what is happening to me?

  “Adeline,” he growls.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re still licking your lips.”

  Heat curls through me as we stare at each other for a long moment, neither speaking, neither breathing. “I know,” I say, breaking the quiet.

  “Go to the bathroom,” he orders.

  “What?”

  “Get up from the table, and go to the bathroom.”

  “Harding, I—”

  “Now, Adeline.”

  A fine quiver moves through me. While I like the gentlemanly side of him, this take-charge alpha side is mind-blowingly sexy, and makes me want to follow his every last order.

  “Why do you call me—”

  His jaw clenches. “Now,” he says, a new hardness in his tone. My body trembles as I toss my napkin to the table. When I make a move to get up, he stands to pull my chair out for me. He might come from the wrong side of the tracks, but there are so many right things about him.

  I force my legs to work, and cut through the dimly lit restaurant. Why is he sending me away? Is it so I can pull myself together and stop licking my lips, or is he planning on following me and taking me up against the wall in the women’s bathroom? Which do I want more? I enter the small room and stand there. It’s quaint, a one-person only washroom, and I lean against the sink and try to fill my lungs as I debate on locking the door.

  A second later a knock comes.

  “I’m in here,” I say, having no idea who is on the other side, but can’t deny that I’m hoping it’s Harding.

  The knob turns and I grip the sink tighter. He steps inside, everything about him predatory as he closes the door, locks it, and takes two measured steps until he’s standing over me. He cups my chin and angles it until my lips are open and poised.

  “I want you. If you say you don’t want me, I’ll take you back to your car and see you get home safely. If you say you want me, I’m going to fuck you right here, right now.”

  I think about my choices, and while my brain is screaming at me, telling me to do one thing, my body isn’t listening. Nope, my body is plugging its damn ears and saying, lalalalala.

  “Which is it, Adeline?” he asks pointedly, his hot gaze racing over my face as he waits for an answer.

  “I want you,” I manage to say around a tongue gone thick.

  He dips his head and his lips crash down over mine, hungry, demanding as his tongue slides into my mouth. He groans as he tastes me and I slide my hands around his back, eager to touch him all over. I tug at his shirt, slide my hands under it and palm his muscles. My God, his body is so hard and warm, I want to crawl inside his shirt and stay there forever.

  “Fuck,” he murmurs between fierce kisses, and backs me up until I’m against the door. Lust drives me and I palm his back, and lightly scratch his skin, unable to get him close enough. With little finesse and much greed—that turns me on even more—he shoves a knee between my legs to widen them, then pushes against me until I’m riding his knee. Jesus, I can’t believe I’m dry humping Harding in the restaurant bathroom. How delightfully naughty. Seriously though, this is so out of character for me. But I like it. I like it a lot.

  He gyrates, pushing his pelvis against my abdomen and I briefly close my eyes against the flood of heat. His cock is rock hard, and big, as it presses into me. Oh my God, the rumors are true. He is sporting a king cobra. Since I’ve only been with one guy, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at that.

  Skilled hands pull my arms from around his back and pin them over my head. I gasp, never having been restrained in such a sexy way before.

  “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you?” he asks, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses to my face and neck while he confines me with one hand and examines my curves with the other.

  “No,” I murmur.

  “A long fucking time, Adeline. Long before we ever had to work on that assignment.”

  A thrill goes through me. “I didn’t know,” I say for lack of anything. Since he’s being so honest, I decide to confess as well. “I’ve wanted you for a long time too,” I whisper.

  He goes still, perfectly still, then he inches back. Our gazes meet, and his nostrils flare.

  “How long?”

  “Long before that assignment.”

  My words seem to do something primal to him. His nostrils flare again and a low moan catches in his throat. Warm lips crash down on mine, hungry, far more possessive than he was earlier. Feeling crazed, reckless, I kiss him back and our tongues tangle, nothing but need ruling my actions. I don’t care that I’m in a restaurant bathroom, and people could be lined up outside. All I care about is feeling this man inside me.

  With a new urgency about him, he dips his head and unbuttons my blouse; his big fingers are so skilled and deft I can’t wait to feel them on my body, inside me. He slides my shirt from my shoulders and air leaves his lungs in a hiss when he sees my lace bra and I give a silent prayer of thanks that I put on something sexy. Despite my protests with Sara, is it possible that I had hoped something like this would happen? I’m thinking so.

  He leans into me and his hot breath scorches my skin as he kisses me through the lace. My nipples swell, poke
through the material, and he growls with approval. I am dying here. Seriously dying.

  He grips the material and tugs it down until my breasts are exposed, then he stands back to take a good long look at me. The air grows heavy with lust, and it’s all I can do to fill my lungs. He shakes his head, and gives a low, slow whistle, the smile on his face making me feel like a prized possession.

  “You are so gorgeous,” he whispers.

  “So are you.” I reach for him, desperate to touch him all over, to take his hard cock into my hands and mouth.

  “I need to taste you,” he says.

  I reach for the button on his pants. “Same.”

  His gaze shoots to mine and his hand captures mine before I can touch him. “You want to taste me?”

  “Yes, I want your cock in my mouth.”

  He grip on my wrist tightens. “Jesus Christ, Adeline, you can’t say shit like that to me.”

  A quiver moves through me. Honest to God, I can’t believe I’m able to reduce this big, dangerous fighter to a mass of need.

  “But it’s true,” I say, wanting to tease him more, to see this strong, dangerous fighter come undone—because of me. “I want to take you as deep as I can and then I want you to come in my mouth.”

  He growls, and pushes a hand between my legs. He rubs me through my jeans. “As nice as that sounds,” he begins, his voice heavy with lust. “I want to be balls-fucking-deep in here when I come. I want to feel the heat of your pussy on my cock, want your juices dripping over my shaft when I fill you with my cum.”

  Oh. My. God.

  With my body screaming for release, and my breath growing shallow, I ask, “Then what are you waiting for?”

  He looks at me, his gaze scalding, his muscles rippling, and I know I landed a direct hit. I move against his hand, bolder than I’ve ever been before, but Harding brings out another side of me, one I was always afraid to show. But with him I don’t feel embarrassed by my needs. In fact I feel empowered, greedy, so ready to let go for once in my life, and enjoy before I go back to burying my nose in my books and walking the straight and narrow.

  “Fuck, I’ve been in the ring with some nasty motherfuckers, yet I somehow sense that you’re going to be the death of me.”

  I move my pelvis, and he rips into my jeans, tugging them to my knees. I squirm, wanting them lower, but he turns the tables on me, taking full control. He shoves a hand between my locked thighs, and goes higher until he’s nudging my clit and I cry out. He feels my wetness, and I move against him, sensations rocketing through me.

  “You need my cock in here?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I cry out.

  “You know, I think I’m going to make you wait a bit longer.”

  A whimper crawls out of my throat. An actual whimper. That’s never happened before, but then again, I’ve never been locked in the bathroom with such a primal being before, either. “No…Please, Harding,” I beg, needing him to take me over before I shatter into a million tiny pieces. “Your cock…hurry.”

  He grins, and my plea turns to a moan when he sinks to his knees, slides a tongue between my snug lips and dips into my heat. He looks up at me. “Still want me to hurry?”

  “No, yes, God, I don’t know.” His chuckle skitters through me and I moan, never wanting him to stop what he’s doing, even though I’m desperate for his cock. I run my fingers through his hair, holding him to me like the needy slut I am.

  “Mmmm,” he growls, “So fucking sweet. I knew you would be.”

  He licks me, and alternates between shoving his tongue up inside me, and swiping it over my aching clit. I try to move, but he grips my hips to hold me still. A restless energy arcs between us but he seems hellbent on taking his time, drawing this seduction out. My heart races, crashes, as I try to move, but can’t do anything but stand there and bask in the pleasure building between my legs.

  He eases my pants down a bit more and I’m able to open slightly, just enough for him to get a thick finger inside me.

  “Yes,” I cry out, not giving a damn who’s listening now. I want this, need this. He strokes deep, brushing the rough pad of his thumb over the hot bundle of nerves inside me while his tongue glides over my clit. I am so close. So damn close, I can barely think, let alone breathe. I cup my breasts, run my thumbs over my nipples and he glances up at me. He briefly pinches his eyes shut like the sight of me playing with myself is more than he can bear.

  He changes the pace, the rhythm between my legs and a cry lodges in my throat as sensations take over. I pant, grasp at him, pull him to me, push him away, hanging on to the edge of oblivion by my fingernails, but when he inserts a second finger, my body lets go and gives itself over to the pleasure.

  “Yes,” I whimper and toss my head from side to side as he laps at me to draw out the powerful release. I swallow against the dryness in my throat as he climbs up my quivering body, and when I see my moisture glistening on his face, I’m astounded by how much that turns me on again.

  I reach down, rip into his pants and shove my hand inside. I take him in my hand. God, he’s so thick and full, I don’t think I’ll get my mouth around him, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to give it my best. I stroke him a few times, dip into the pre-cum pearling on his crown and use it for lubricant.

  “Fuck, Addy, that feels good.”

  “I want you in my mouth.”

  Instead of answering, he grips my shoulders and pushes down until I’m on my knees, and I find it completely thrilling. Why is it no matter what this man does, it turns me on?

  As I crouch before him, he shoves his jeans to his ankles, and takes his cock into his hand. He runs his palms from base to tip, and more cum pearls on the end. I sit there shell-shocked as I watch him. Never have I seen a man stroke himself before. Who knew it would be so sexy? I lick my lips and he groans.

  “Open up,” he says and comes toward me, his cock like a heat-seeking missile. As much as I want him to come in my mouth, I do need him inside me more. Maybe next time he can shoot down my throat. Wait! What? There’s not going to be a next time, and I’d be wise to remember that.

  “Suck me, Adeline.”

  I open my mouth as wide as possible and he feeds me his cock. It fills my mouth, widens my lips and stings a little, but I like it. I take him to the back of my throat and gag a bit.

  “Easy,” he says, and tries to inch out, but I stop him. I want to take him deep, want to make this so good for him. I relax my throat, and breathe through my nose as I plunge forward, until he’s filling my throat and cutting off my air supply.

  “Holy fuck,” he says and grips my hair. He wraps it around his hand and watches me take him in, and I work my mouth over him to give him a performance. “You are so good at that,” he growls. I work the length of him with one hand and cup his balls with the other. They draw up into his body, and from his curses, I suspect he’s close.

  “Stop,” he orders, and gives my hair a tug to pull me off of his cock. His expression is full of agony as he grips my shoulders and pulls me up. “I need to be inside you,” he says, and presses his lips to mine for a hot kiss.

  “Yes, please,” I murmur into his mouth, and wiggle out of my pants. God, it’s crazy how much I ache to feel him inside me. After my last experience I thought there was something wrong with me. Now, well, now I know it’s because I wasn’t with Harding.

  He’s for you.

  As Sara’s words once again bounce around inside my brain, Harding bends to grab something from his pants. “Condom,” he says, but I stop him.

  I shake my head. “No.” Sex without a condom is reckless I know, but there is a part of me that knows this man, trusts this man, trusts that he’d never do anything to hurt me. And I want his cum in me, I want him to fill me now, so I can feel it dripping from me later—a sweet reminder of this night—when he’s gone and I’m alone in my bed.

  “You sure?” he asks.

  “I’m clean.”

  “I am too. I’ve never had sex without a
condom before.”

  Ecstasy flitters though me to know I’ll be his first. You never forget your first, right, and even though emotions play no part in this game, I kind of like the idea of him never forgetting me and vice versa.

  He pushes against me, his crown probing my wet opening and I moan and rock against him. With commanding hands, he grips my ass, lifting me clear from the floor.

  “Legs around me,” he orders his voice sounding tight, tortured, full of raw lust. I put my legs around him and squeeze to hang on, but I don’t need to. He’s holding me firmly in his arms like I weigh nothing more than a damn paperweight. I squirm, trying to impale myself on him, but it’s useless. He’s controlling my movements, the pace, completely in charge of my pleasure. He slowly eases into me, offering me only an inch at a time. I grumble, and he chuckles, amused at the torture he’s inflicting upon me.

  I pound his back. “Harding...” I warn, but he seals my protest with a kiss. His lips press into mine, and our tongues play as he slides into me until finally—finally—I have every last inch of him deep in my sex. I moan, never having felt so deliciously full before.

  “Oh God, that is soooo good,” I moan.

  He breaks the kiss. “Is this what you’ve been begging for, Addy?”

  “Yes.”

  “You need my cock?”

  “I need it,” I whimper and squirm, rotating my hips to get him moving. “I need you to fuck me, Harding.”

  “Yeah? You’re hurting for it?”

  “I’m hurting for you,” I say, and his eyes turn a deeper shade of blue.

  I tangle my hands around his neck and hang on as he pushes me against the wall, pulls almost all the way out and powers into me.

  “Ohmigod,” I cry out as he takes me the way I’ve never been taken before, yet always needed to be. How did Sara know? How did she know he was the one for me? Well, sexually that is.

  My blood flows thick and heavy. Never in my life have I had two orgasms in a row, not even when using my vibrator. I suspect that is all going to change tonight.

  Heat sizzles through me as he pounds, grunts, and drives impossibly deeper. I gasp, scratch at him, and open my body to his. I want everything he can give me, even though I know one night with him will ruin me for every other man. But I can’t think about that right now. Not when my orgasm is so close and I can feel the tension rising in his body, the way he’s struggling to hang on.