Wedding the Bad Boy: A Bedding the Bachelors Novella Read online

  The petals didn’t stop in the dining room, however. With an ever-growing smile, she followed the petals down the hallway until…

  Max stood at the other end of the hallway in a loose, white button-down shirt and blue jeans. He ran a hand through his brown hair when he saw her enter the hallway, and the slight arousal she had felt when she saw the petals and candlelight now spiked at the sight of his delicious body. Knowing he was hers was enough to set her off every time she saw him, but to find him waiting for her by candlelight and surrounded by rose petals was just divine.

  As a magician, Max had a flare for the dramatic, and that often spilled into their daily lives, but it didn’t make his efforts any less ordinary. He loved surprising her with romance and adventure and mystery, and she loved receiving it. When she reached him, he silently took her into his arms and kissed her.

  She was unprepared when he pulled away and knelt on one knee, taking her hand in his.

  “What are you doing, Max? You already proposed to me, darlin’—on stage, I might add. Or are you thinking about someone else?” Grace teased, unable to hold back the rush of emotion and desire that filled her at the sight of her perfect man kneeling before her once more, as if asking for her hand in marriage all over again.

  “There’s no chance of that, Dixie.” His green eyes stared deeply into hers. “You are all I see. You are all I think about. Will you marry me?”

  “Of course, Max! I already said yes. I can’t wait to be your wife.” Grace pulled on his hand, encouraging him to stand. “Four months will pass in no time.”

  “Not soon enough for me. And we’re going to do something about that. But first…” He cupped her face and kissed her again, and her body melted into his. When he scooped her into his arms, she squealed and threw her arms around his shoulders. She felt light as a feather as he whisked her away into their bedroom, where he placed her gently on their bed and began undressing her.

  Pleasure rippled through her, as she arched her back in anticipation of what was to come. Max knew how to work her body in ways no one else had before, and she felt her desire growing for him with every touch. He stripped her until she was bare, then took off his own clothes.

  Grace reached for him, but Max stepped back to admire her. His eyes trailed from her feet up to her hips, over her belly to her breasts. His gaze was like his hand trailing over her body. She arched slightly and threw an arm up over her head, her earlier insecurities completely gone.

  This was real. His desire for her. Her need for him. There was no fighting it.

  He ran a hand over his eyes, like he couldn’t quite believe she was there. Like he couldn’t believe that she was his. Then, as she watched him, his expression hardened. An intensity rippled through him, transforming him. When his hands fell back at his sides, he wasn’t the sweet, loving fiancé who’d just fallen on one knee for her.

  He was something else. Something that made the muscles in her belly clench and quiver. Something masculine and primal and feral all rolled together. Max stepped up to the edge of the bed, his eyes still caressing her body like a physical touch.

  “Do you know what you do to me, Grace?” His voice was quiet, but the command in his tone had her snapping to attention. She knew better than to let her guard down when he was quiet. It was when he was most dangerous.

  Her eyes automatically dropped to his hardness, straining for her inside his jeans. The candlelight touched his gorgeous body, shadowing the dips and planes of his muscles.

  Max smirked but shook his head. “I want you, yes. But that’s not what you do to me.”

  Grace cocked her head, unsure what he was getting at.

  “Touch your stomach, Grace.” When she hesitated, his voice became harder and sharper. “Take your hand and stroke it across your stomach.”

  She did as he said and the touch, even from her own hand, was electric because it’d been instigated by his command. His eyes followed the path of her fingers like he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

  “Touch your breasts. Now.”

  His green eyes were fiery yet as clear as a glass bottle. He was in control, completely, and all she had to do was follow directions. He would never lead her astray. There was a freedom in that.

  All she had to do was take what he was giving her right now.

  Her hand trailed upward and found the soft weight of one of her breasts.

  “The other hand too.”

  Immediately, her other hand came up to join the first. She stroked over the soft skin of her breasts, gasping when she skimmed her nipples. She tugged at one, the way Max might do with his mouth if he were over her right now.

  Max groaned, his face tight with lust, his eyes glued to the path of her hands. She stroked one hand up her neck and then back down to her chest. She kneaded and tugged at her breasts again and this time she had to press her legs together against the ache that was quickly growing there.

  Max’s eyes caught the small movement. “One hand on your pussy, Grace.”

  Every muscle in her belly tightened. Dragging one hand down the soft skin of her belly, she pressed her fingers between her legs and moaned softly.

  Max’s breath became ragged as he watched Grace’s fingers disappear inside herself. “Tell me what it feels like, Grace.”

  She moaned again, whipping her head from one side to the other. “Wet. And so hot. For you.”

  She gazed through the haze of pleasure at his lustful eyes. So concentrated. It made everything inside of her quicken and pull tight. Grace planted her feet and spread her legs. She wanted him to have a good view.

  She was rewarded when the lines of his mouth tightened and a groan rumbled out from his chest. Grace pressed her fingers further inside herself, her thumb tracing a seductive circle around her needy clit. Her hips pressed upward into the air at the sensation, searching for more. Her body rose up, raced toward pleasure, but she wanted him to finish her. She wanted his weight on her, pinning her to earth as she spun away.

  “I’m going to… Oh God, Max, I’m going to…” Grace’s hips rose in the air as pleasure held her hostage.

  Suddenly, Max dove toward her. Her eyes flew open as her fingers were immediately replaced with his hot, greedy mouth. His broad shoulders spread her legs even wider and he threw an arm over her hips, pinning her to the bed just the way she’d wanted.

  His tongue was unforgiving, brutal, as he ripped her toward orgasm. He circled her clit, suckled and then dove deep inside her in a punishing pattern that had her gripping the sheets, seeing stars, screaming his name.

  Grace exploded over the edge as her heart pin-wheeled in her chest, everything else a tense, vibrating state of pleasure. Her throat was raw and her muscles trembled when she fell back, limp and completely satisfied.

  Max lifted his head and he crawled up her body until he was braced above her. Grace half expected a triumphant smile to play across his face. Instead, his expression remained serious and intense with desire. His need lined his face as he loomed over her.

  “Now do you see? What you do to me?”

  But Grace couldn’t even speak after coming like a freight train. She tossed her head to one side, and tangled her hands in her hair. “I… Max… God.”

  She knew she was stuttering but couldn’t help it. Words couldn’t form when he was crouched over her, his cock straining toward her and every muscle standing out in sharp relief.

  “If you still don’t know, I’ll have to show you,” he said, dropping his mouth to her neck. He clamped down on the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Not biting so much as gripping her tightly. Holding her down. One of his hands tangled with hers, but the other slid around her waist, lifted her hips up to meet him.

  Grace felt the tip of his cock slide through her slick folds, but that was all the warning she got before he slammed it home, bottoming out inside of her. Even with most of his weight on top of her, Grace came up off the bed, her muscles straining with the brilliant ecstasy of feeling him drill her.
Inside of her, on top of her. Everywhere. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into her.

  The headboard thumped against the wall.

  “Yes. Max,” she moaned. She turned her head, breaking his bite on her neck so her teeth could graze the same sensitive spot on his neck where he’d bitten her. He groaned and slammed into her again.

  “This is what you do to me,” he breathed, his arm tightening around her waist while his other hand tangled in her hair and tightened, just enough for the kiss of pain to send lightning streaking through her body. “You destroy me, Grace.” With every word, every assurance that he was falling apart under her spell, Grace rode his body’s onslaught toward ecstasy. She loved that Max could make her come twice where everyone before him failed.

  He tugged her hair again, and she flew over the edge, gripping him and screaming and coming hard. She rode out her orgasm, pushing against him, fucking him from below.

  But he wasn’t finished. His pace quickened and the sound of flesh on flesh echoed in the room. He rode her, plunging into her, ravaging her.

  “You consume me,” he growled in her ear.

  Max reared back and pulled out of her. Grace whimpered at the loss of him, then whimpered again when he took her by the hips and flipped her over. Her sensitive breasts raked against the blanket and it was all she could do to grip the sheets and brace before he was thrusting into her again. His weight came over her and his mouth was at her ear again. She tried to push up onto her knees, but he pushed back, wanting her down, pressed flat underneath him.

  He drove into her, his chest to her back, his arms over hers, pinning her to the bed. She cried out his name over and over, her words muffled by the mattress. She felt him racing toward his pleasure now, his strokes rougher and faster.

  He hit some special place inside, made possible by the angle, and Grace cried out as her body tightened yet again. She felt him go even deeper before he stilled in pleasure, forcing her down on the mattress.

  “You rule me, Grace,” he gritted out. “That’s what you do to me.”

  They strained against one another, milking every last ounce of pleasure out of their encounter. He kept his full weight on her for only a second before rolling off of her and stroking a hand over her hair, as he lay panting in silence, their breaths kicking back to even after a long while.

  Grace rolled over and ran a hand gently down his chest and stomach for several quiet moments. Her mind spun with what had just happened. The intensity and spontaneity of it. All the ways he’d just showed her how he felt about her. She’d been such a fool for ever doubting his feelings for her. “So, what was all the Gothic romanticism about when I walked in?”

  Max rolled up to look her in the eye. “That was my way of asking if you’ll marry me.”

  “But you already have.”

  “I wanted to ask you twice because I want to marry you twice,” he said, his expression somehow both playful and earnest. “Once in four months, with the whole shebang, just like we planned. But I want to marry you before that, too, in one week. At city hall, with a justice of the peace. That way, when I take you to Europe, it’ll be for our honeymoon.”

  “Whoa…what?” Her mind was spinning. She propped herself up on one elbow. “What are you talking about? Europe?”

  “I didn’t want to say anything until everything came through, but I’ve been trying to set up a European tour,” he confessed, stroking her hair. “All of the details have been worked out, and we leave in a week.”

  Her brows furrowed as she weighed her excitement with disappointment. Touring wasn’t vacation. It was mostly work. Any sightseeing she might want to do would have to be done on her own while Max was either rehearsing or performing. Then, there was the little issue of figuring out what, if anything, was wrong with her body. She’d know more at her doctor’s appointment tomorrow but…

  Her fiancé placed a hand under her chin to tilt her face up. “It’s going to be a fast-paced, busy tour, and each show is going to be incredible. Complicated and involved.”

  Grace’s eyes dropped to her hand on the bed. She wanted to be supportive, especially since he seemed excited about the whole thing, but he was also confirming her worst fear about the trip.

  Max continued on, dipping his head to look her in the eyes. “But I’m only doing one show a week.”

  Her eyes snapped back to his, hope blooming in her chest.

  “So while there’s going to be a lot of work involved, we will also have a lot of downtime to explore the places we’ll be visiting and a lot of time to sit back and enjoy our summer,” he assured her.

  She let out a little squeak of excitement and flung herself at him. “Well, doesn’t that just fry my chicken!” she said, though part of her worried over leaving the country at a time when she wasn’t feeling her best.

  He let out another hearty laugh as he squeezed her right back. “I take that to mean that you’re excited.”

  Grace nuzzled into his neck, pushing whatever worries she’d been harboring away. “You have no idea. Oh! I have to call the girls. They’re not going to believe this!”

  “I’ve already filled in Lucy and Melina. Lucy’s extending her stay, and Jamie and Milly are flying down so they can be here when we get married.”

  “They knew about this?”

  “Melina knew it was in the works. I just told Lucy yesterday. And Jamie and Milly arrive tomorrow so Lucy can be here with you until the ceremony.”

  “Oh, that’s so awesome. I can’t wait to see Jamie and Milly. And just wait until Jamie sees Lucy in the dress we picked out.” She giggled, imagining Lucy and Melina wearing their new super hot dresses in front of a justice of the peace. No, she decided, they’d wait until the formal ceremony to wear those dresses, but that meant they could go shopping again for dresses that were a little more casual. Grace sat up, knowing her hair must look like a sexed-up haystack but not even caring. “Oh, my God, I’ve got a lot of work to do if we’re going to pull this off.” She turned to Max in half-panic half-excitement. “I’m going to be busier than a cat burying shit on a marble floor.”

  Max burst out laughing again and hugged her like she was the most precious thing in the world. “I’m sorry for the rush. I wanted to marry you before we left, but I also wanted to wait to tell you until I knew the tour was a sure thing.”

  Tears of overwhelming joy filled her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe he’d been planning such a momentous surprise.

  “Have I ever told you how lucky I am that you chose me?” she asked, taking his face into her hands. She kissed his lips, basking in the connection between them.

  “There was never a chance I wouldn’t have chosen you,” Max reminded her. “You’re in my blood, Dixie. You’re a part of me. I can’t live without you.”

  She melted at his words. She kissed him again, pressing her naked body against his. His hands touched her gently but surely, running up and down her back while they kissed.

  “Now, about this food you’ve got out there in the dining room,” she said with a little grin spreading across her face.

  “It’s all made from authentic European recipes. I’ve got at least one dish from every country we’ll be visiting. Are you hungry?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve worked up quite an appetite thanks to my magnificent magician. Besides, we need to blow out all of these candles before we start a fire in here.”

  He slid off the bed, pulled her up beside him, then rested his forehead against hers. “Too late. You light me up, Grace. Every damn day. And I promise you this—that flame will never die.”

  Chapter Two

  “Damn, Rhys,” Max said to his brother on the back porch, beers in hand. “I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about boys getting too frisky with Tabby.”

  Tabitha, Max’s two-year-old niece, sat on her twin brother Charlie’s chest with a special kind of gusto. Charlie screamed and kicked his feet, but couldn’t knock her off.

>   “I know,” Rhys agreed as he surveyed his children with pride. “She’s more spice than sugar. Trust me, I’m happy about that. She won’t have trouble sticking up for herself. Let him breathe, sweetie!” he added in a shout for his daughter.

  Tabitha rolled off her brother, blowing a big wet kiss to the grown ups on the porch. Charlie charged toward her, and the two of them tumbled, squealing and rolling across the grass.

  Just then, Jamie stepped out on the porch, his daughter, Milly, under his arm like a package. He’d arrived early that morning, and after spending time with Lucy, he’d come over so that Grace, Melina, and Lucy could do more shopping.

  “We got a clean one here, boys,” Jamie said as he set his freshly-changed toddler on the grass next to the twins.

  She immediately crawled toward the mountain of toys the dads had tossed into the grass for the kids. Jamie turned, swiped a beer from the cooler next to Max and pulled up a lawn chair. He tilted his face up to the sun, his dark hair shining. “Damn. Fatherhood is harder than training for a marathon.”

  Rhys laughed. “Don’t I know it. It should be a new kind of fitness class. They could call it ‘play peekaboo for seven hours straight.’”

  “You are a literal billionaire, Jamie,” Max said. “You could hire a nanny. You know this, right?”

  Jamie cracked one eye to look at Max and took a swig of his beer. “Are you kidding me? After all the work Lucy and I are going through to adopt Milly, you think I would let one second of her time go to a stranger? No way. I wanna be there for everything. Even her thirty-five dumps a day.”

  Rhys nodded. “It’s so crazy, but I know exactly what you mean. I feel that way about the twins too. Even when Charlie projectile puked on me the other day, I was still like, wow! Good distance!”

  The men all laughed and Max watched the toddlers play. In the last few years all their lives had turned upside down. They’d gone from being ladies’ men, playing the field with not a care for the future, to all being in committed relationships. Starting families. Late night diaper changes instead of booty calls and trips to the grocery store instead of hot dates.