Read Slam: A Bad Boy Romance Online
Authors: Leah Holt
Slam: A Bad Boy Romance
SLAM
A BAD BOY ROMANCE
––––––––
Leah Holt
Copyright © 2015 Leah Holt
All rights reserved. SLAM: A BAD BOY ROMANCE is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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I
've hid from what I loved, the fighting. Only to get my fix in small brawls at a bar, or on the street. The one thing that truly ran through my veins and fueled my existence, I've left in the shadows; until now.
Until her.
She's been running through me since day one. That same shot of adrenaline hits every muscle when I'm around Cadence.
And it's fucking incredible.
On pure impulse, I lifted my hand to her cheek, softly I grazed my fingers down her skin.
My gaze fixed on the precious stones of her eyes.
Her lips parted, a breath of air escaped where she looked like she wanted to speak.
But her silence never breached.
Tightening my grip around the base of her neck, I pulled her in, pressing my lips forcefully against hers. Caressing the inside of her mouth, our tongues danced with desire.
I'm making her mine. No more bull-shit, I'm fucking her right now.
My cock pressed painfully against my jeans, her touch thickening my erection. The throbbing of my hand fading with each gentle twist of her tongue.
Pulling her onto my lap, her hands dug into my shoulders. “This is dangerous you know,” she whispered, arching her back as she ground herself down.
Swaying her hips over my hard dick, her body moved erotically, rocking back and forth. Heavy breaths falling from her lips spread across my ear. My hands followed the fabric of her shirt, hitting the edge, I tickled up her back.
A soft gasp escaped with raw need, her body becoming rigid, as goosebumps emerged over her skin. Her breasts lifted towards my face with the air struggling to find her lungs.
“I've been waiting patiently, but I can't wait anymore.” I hissed into her ear, running my tongue across the edge, a long drawn out moan spilled from inside her.
I pulled her in tight, trying to merge our bodies into one. My palms walked up her shoulder blades, the bare flesh dampening with desire.
Quinn
T
he music blared in my ears, where a headache had already started to wrench its thin fingers. I tipped back my shot glass filled with whiskey, the heat coated my throat in a wave of liquid fire.
A light gasp escaped my mouth; bourbon was the best way to forget your problems.
I shifted in my seat, the dark corner concealing my presence. The waitress, a small, petite girl, glanced my way as I lifted the empty glass, shaking it to convey I needed another.
She looked young, maybe twenty-two, tops. I didn't know her name and honestly, I didn't care, as long she kept my buzz at a constant pace.
Her light blonde hair was pulled back tight, the form fitting red shirt hugged her tits perfectly. My eyes drifted up and down as she bounced back in my direction, her round platter held high to avoid the drunken dancers between us.
“Here you go,” she said, setting the single swallow before me.
Glancing up at her, I tossed the bills onto the table and watched her eyes follow the sleeve of tattoos dressing my arm. “Here. Keep the change.” I leaned back in my chair, placing my hand around the glass, the coolness hitting my skin like ice.
She looked down at her tray as she spoke,“Th...thanks, you need anything else?” Swiftly her hand swiped the money off the table, shoving it into her apron, her eyes drifted between the other patrons.
Man, she grabbed that shit quick. What, is she intimidated by me? Am I making her nervous?
The thought made me chuckle and my cock swell.
I loved the idea of causing a woman's nerves to go wild.
I bet I could get this pretty little thing to beg for me to fuck her.
I'd tease her inexperienced pussy with my cock, waiting till her juices dripped down her thigh, and the only words to escape her tongue would be-
“Fuck me.”
My lips remained tightly closed as a smirk pulled from one corner. “I could always use something else, sweetheart.” I ran my tongue across my bottom lip, tipping the glass and inhaling the shot. “For now, I'll just have another.” My stare burned into the deep brown abyss of her eyes.
A rush of excitement filled my pants as her cheeks blushed red, a hand came up nervously to brush back a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Speechless, She's fucking speechless. God I love that.
She graced me with a smile and turned towards the crowd.
I watched her ass glide through the sea of people in front of me till it became lost in the swarm around the bar; certain she exaggerated the sway of her hips for my enjoyment.
The things I would do to an ass like that, she has no idea how much I would love to break her.
I'd lived in New York city for almost two years, needless to say the bar scene around here was endless; so it wasn't a surprise I hadn't seen this one tucked away.
The small sign above the door had read 'Whiskey Sour' when I'd entered. It had caught my eyes while I was walking.
Moving in my chair, the legs rocked unevenly beneath me.
Typical dive bar, too cheap to fix shit.
I attempted to scoot the chair to see if maybe it was just the floor, it didn't help. I set my hand down on the table, the stickiness of an unknown substance fixed to my palm.
Nasty. What the hell is that?
My hand peeled away with a slurping sound.
Luckily, my buzz had started to set in and the headache I'd come in with had finally started to fade.
Where did that cute waitress go? Now that I'm feeling a little better, I'd like to really give her something to smile about.
I glanced around the room, hoping she would come into view.
Fuck, I need to get laid. That would really make me feel better. It always does.
Shit hadn't exactly been going my way, I'd gotten let go from work two weeks ago and rent was due. Not to mention all the other necessities life had to offer.
New York wasn't a cheap place to live.
A little pussy could take my mind off things. At the very least, it'd help me relax.
I tried to peer through the clusters of people, the dim lighting made it difficult to make out any features. Every face seemed to blur into the next.
I brought my hands up and rubbed my eyes, hoping it wasn't the alcohol already.
Whiskey was a tough liquor, too much could make a man snap.
If you wanted to get answers, fill a guy to the brim with all the whiskey he could tolerate. Bring him just to the brink of insanity, and he's putty in your hands.
But it has a dark side; anger and rage.
Maybe, that's why it's my favorite?
I thought, as my eyes searched the room for my next taste of the devil's brew.
A bright light from behind the bar caught my eye, I lifted my head to get a better look at the bartender. Her hair was black as the darkest night, the light gleaming across the silkiness that flowed over her shoulders. Despite my blurry vision, her form took shape and emerged in a halo of white. Clear as day, her bronze skin sparkled under the glow.
The voices around me muffled into silence, each image melted into one giant haze. My eyes peered at her through a looking glass, seeing only her.
Her shoulder arched back. The bright blue, silk shirt adorning her body was unbuttoned down to the crest of her breasts. A small taste of skin brought on a rush of excitement.
This woman was going to be mine for the evening.
I'm going to have her, all of her.
My cock stiffened in my jeans, a warmth crept over my body. Tonight she was going to scream, yell for me to dig deep into her pussy.
She would never forget the name Quinn Delligatti.
Just like the sweet liquor she poured, my name would roll from her seraphical tongue.
A soft voice started to pull me from my daze. “Hello? I said here's your shot.” It took me a moment to realize the blonde waitress was standing right beside me.
Reaching up, I grabbed the shot off her plate, letting the money fall to the table as my eyes remained on the woman at the bar.
I cocked my head back, downing the drink. That time it didn't burn; it was smooth as water. I dropped the glass on the table, it was dead weight in my hands.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the waitress jump with surprise as the glass crashed down on the wood. Her brows raised high, confusion and fear sat in her wide stare.
“Thanks,” I forced out, bringing my wrist to my lips to wipe the remnants away. I pushed back from the table, standing tall, still fixed on what I wanted. “Change is yours, doll.”
I have one purpose for tonight. Her
.
Pushing through the mass of drunken people, I made my way to the bar. I had a hard time knowing if I was swaying into them or if they were bumping into me.
Normally, I would have laid out a few of these guys by now. I hated people getting in my space, getting too close. Especially when I didn't know them.
Tonight it was different, I had a goal. All I wanted to do was get to her.
As much as I loved a good fight, fucking was always better.
Closing the distance between myself and the bar, her features started to stand out. I could see the sheen of sweat across her skin, she glistened and I wanted to lick her. Taste the sweetness of her flavor against my lips.
A small beauty mark rested just below her cheek bone, she looked like a goddess.
My delicious treat for the evening.
Reaching the edge of the counter, I stood just observing her. Her movements were quick, turning from customer to customer. Hands flying in all directions, grabbing a glass, filling, mixing, then on to the next.
Her body danced around the interior of the bar. She was entrancing to watch, moving naturally like an artist's brush against the canvas. Her figure became the muse of my vision.
Then, her eyes were on mine. “What can I get you?” she asked, both hands sat on the trim of her waist. Large blue eyes peered at me, waiting for my request.
My cock stiffened in my jeans with her beauty. I wanted to jump the bar, fuck her right there.
I'll just take you. That's all I need for now.
Her lips partially open, gleaming a deep red. “Well?” she asked.
“How about I buy
you
a drink, beautiful.” My lips tapered up towards my eyes, a hand fell to glide across the smooth surface before me.
“Really? Look I don't have time for this. Others are waiting. Do you want a drink or not?” Impatience set in her face as she tapped the bar with one finger, rolling her eyes.
Running my hand through my hair, I kept my glare right on hers. “A shot of your best bourbon,” I said, my smirk never waivering.
She turned, reaching for a glass. As she did, her shirt rose slightly, revealing the two dimples perched between her back and ass. Temptation to run my fingertips across her soft flesh shot through my body.
She has no idea what's coming her way tonight.
Right now I was just another bar fly, but later she would be begging me for more.
With her back turned to me, I imagined her bent over, the two mounds of her perfect ass perched up towards my face. Her slippery pussy peaking out beneath, the gentle spread her lips would do as she rocked back and forth, aching for my cock.
And that's exactly what I'd make her do; beg for my fucking cock.
The glass slammed down in front of me, splatters of the rich burgundy liquid hit the surface. “Eleven dollars.” Her hand came up and tossed her hair over her shoulder, returning to her hip.
I pulled the money from my wallet. “Alright, doll. So, you have a name?” I asked, though I wasn't really giving her a choice in answering me. She would be telling me more than her name in no time.
“Yup, I do. Don't we all?” Her sharp tone filled my ears, grabbing the cash. Her body twisted before I could utter another word and she was gone, on to the next.
