now.”
“You can always make up the time with me.”
The ring slipped onto my finger. Jude’s voice deepened to a playful growl.
“You know what, Doc?” The blankets shifted, and Jude’s kisses trailed a little lower. “You’re absolutely right. I have years of attention I need to bestow upon you.”
“Only if you’re feeling well enough.”
“I think you’re the best medicine, Rory.” His words quieted. “Hell, you’re the one who healed me.”
“And you’re the one who rescued me. Call it even?”
“Never.” Jude whispered. “I would’ve always helped you, Rory. That was never a question. But I swear…I’m going to spend the rest of our lives proving how indebted I am to you for finding me, helping me, showing me what else there is to life.”
“I don’t need your gratitude.” I leaned forward and kissed him, gently. “I just want to experience that life with you.”
“You’re the reason it’s worth living.”
I silenced him with a kiss. “No more talking. Let me show you how much I love you.”
Jude smiled, resting against the pillows. “Do I have a choice?”
“Absolutely not. You’re mine, Jude Owens. Now you’re going to sit back and enjoy this.”
“Doctor’s orders?”
I kissed him. “Doctor’s orders.”
THE END
(Don’t forget! The Series Epilogue is included with this ebook! Check the Table of Contents to give it a read!)
Bad Boy’s Baby
BAD BOY’S BABY
© 2015 by Sosie Frost
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations
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Created with Vellum
To L.G.
Cause I know how much you love bad boys…
1
Jack
A party wasn’t a party unless I had two women begging to take me home.
And the fun only started when I agreed to fuck both of them.
The blonde grinded against me first. Not that I wasn’t partial to blondes, just had seen a lot of them lately. Blue-eyes, sexy curls, lips that pouted more than they’d ever smile. She was the kind of girl who’d suck out a man’s willpower through his cock then demand a credit card to go shopping. I’d learned to stay away from those girls. Good for one fuck, maybe two, but then they’d always want the same thing.
Money. Tickets for their friends. A car. New tits.
Somewhere out there, four women had eight, brand new tits courtesy of Jack Carson. It was almost like a public service.
And the league said I needed to devote more time to charity. I was doing the world enough favors.
Only a few of my teammates joined us for the night out. Half of them took off before the party got rowdy. The rest grabbed more beer and a girl of their choice.
I ordered the waitresses to bring us another round of everything—alcohol, wings, phone numbers. The music pounded, and two of my teammates shook the jukebox until their change poured out. The R&B blared, and some of the girls started to dance.
And those lovely ladies knew just what to shake.
After a song—and three discarded thongs—another handful of coeds slipped into our private room. They giggled as they recognized the stars of the Ironfield Rivets and paraded to my table. I let one through, a pretty little brunette I stacked next to the blonde.
Now this brunette I liked.
She wore a sexy black dress, something deserving of the Vegas strip, not the city of Ironfield. When she curled into my lap, the hem rose. I covered that exposed thigh with a hand.
Soft. Warm. She’d do for a night.
The brunette coo’ed, fake and practiced. She didn’t need to patronize me. I preferred a real moan. My fingers tucked inside her panties.
Shaved.
I liked that.
I tickled until I earned her genuine, sexy sigh, except my flirting pissed the blonde off. That wouldn’t do. I gave her a wink, and she settled down, leaning close enough to let me glance at her tits. She had a better rack than the brunette.