Release Date: June 3rd
My name is Slade Merrick and I’m a fucking sex
addict . . .
I’ve been told it’s a problem. But I see it as a
passion; something that I’m good at. And who the fuck stops something that
they’re good at?
They want me to seek help; get my cock in check. Don't
judge my lifestyle. You’re no better than me. Just admit it, you like to fuck
too. Sex is what I do best; my own personal high, so I embrace it instead of
being ashamed.
When I'm not fucking, I'm slinging drinks at Walk Of
Shame or stripping my way into your bed; another thing I'm good at. Every
woman’s darkest fantasy brought to life.
So, am I stopping? Fuck no. Sex is beautiful, raw and
erotic and I get off knowing I can have it with anyone I want . . . with the
exception of her.
Aspen.
She walks into the club swaying those hips, instantly
drawing my cock to attention. She’s pure perfection. That is, until she opens
that mouth, drawing me in and for the first time in forever I want something
more than sex. I want her and she hates it.
Things get dirty. Dirty is what I like; it’s how I
live. But . . . she’s playing a game she can never win.
I take a huge
gulp as my eyes once again land on him and oh
God, that ass.
His jeans are now hanging half way down
his ass, showing his muscular butt cheeks through his white boxer briefs. The
busty woman in front of him is desperately tugging on the front of his jeans,
working on pulling them down his body. I don’t blame her. I want to take them
off with my teeth.
Crap,
my mind is in the gutter.
Placing his hands behind her head, he
pulls her face down by his crotch as he starts grinding his hips up and down in
perfect rhythm to the song playing. It’s a slow, seductive song that makes me
think about sex. Yup, I’m definitely thinking about sex now.
Just as I think he’s about to actually
let this woman publicly suck his dick or something, he grips her by the hips
and pulls her up to her feet. Slowly, he makes his way behind her and his eyes
land on me and they stay there, locked with mine.
What
the . . . why? Stop looking at me.
I tug on the collar of my white blouse
and without meaning to I start fanning myself off. He smiles at this, knowing
exactly what he’s doing to me. He’s doing this on purpose.
Cocky
jerk.
Bending the girl over, he grips her hair
in one hand and pulls her neck back while grinding his hips on her ass. His
eyes bore into mine as he shakes himself out of his jeans and lets all of his
sexiness consume us. Yes, he is damn sexy and he knows it. That just pisses me
off more. His legs are thick and muscular; covered with random tattoos and
every muscle in his body is well sculpted.
Now that he’s facing me it’s easy to see
his defined chest and abs flexing as he moves with the music. The muscles
leading down to his briefs are staring at me, flexing with each sway of his
hips; calling out to be touched and licked. Oh
yummy. I want a taste . . .
Holy
hell, he’s in shape; like a fitness model. Plus, he has random tattoos
inked across his chest, sides, lower stomach and arms as well. Hell, he has
tattoos all over and it makes him even hotter. They glisten as the perspiration
forms on his skin.
He’s staring at me, while practically
fucking this girl with his clothes on. Still, I’m standing there watching as if
it were me.
What
is wrong with me?
I feel myself
start to sweat and get a tingling sensation between my thighs as he bites his
bottom lip and starts thrusting hard and deep while his eyes devour me. Well,
at least I imagine it would be really deep. I can’t deny that I bet it would
feel so good.
He must notice me sweating because he
laughs a little and steps away from the girl that is still bent over with her
ass in the air. Ignoring all the girls screaming for him, he starts walking
with meaning; unstoppable. With each step, he gets closer and closer to me.
My body is shaking just from his presence
and my breathing picks up. I hate my body right now.
His eyes are intense; telling me he wants
me as his. A part of me almost wants to give in just from that look alone.
My eyes slowly leave his eyes, searching
my way down his muscular body and landing right on his hard dick.
Oh. My. God.
You can see everything through his tight
briefs. The thickness of his dick and even the shape of its head. The whole
package. He’s so . . . hard.
Stopping in front of me, he smirks and
tilts his head down toward his cock. My eyes are betraying me. Damn bastards. They won’t move away.
“You know, it’s against the rules, but I would let you touch it if you wanted
to.”
Shaking my head, I pull my eyes away and
slam back the rest of my drink. This is my third one and I’m a lightweight;
probably not a good thing. I take a step back as he takes a step closer.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Touch what?”
Reaching out, he grabs my hand and places
it on the V of muscles that lead down to his briefs, slowly sliding it down his
sweaty, slick body. “My cock,” he whispers.
My body clenches from his words and I
hate it. Yanking my hand away, I grab Kayla by the arm and slam my empty glass
down onto the table beside me. I need to get out of here.
Victoria Ashley grew up in Rockford, IL and has had a passion for reading for as long as she can remember. After finding a reading app where it allowed readers to upload their own stories, she gave it a shot and writing became her passion. She lives for a good romance book with tattooed bad boys that are just highly misunderstood and is not afraid to be caught crying during a good read. When she’s not reading or writing about bad boys, you can find her watching her favorites shows such as Sons Of Anarchy, Dexter and True Blood. She is the author of Wake Up Call and This Regret and is currently working on more releases for 2014.
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