Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance(63)
“What do you mean?”
“They’re waiting for us just over the border. To bring us back home — Dad and Sherry.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Oh.” A couple of days ago I thought we’d be doomed to exile, always on the run, and now things were looking up.
I pulled Mason into the tightest hug I could manage, my heart overflowing with joy at the look of hope in Mason’s eyes . . . the hope for new beginnings. “That’s so wonderful! I’m so happy for you . . . us.”
Mason eschewed my hug and planted a giant kiss on my lips. “You damn well better be.”
“Wait,” I said, after our smooch was done, pulling back. “Does Mom know that we’re in a relationship?”
Mason pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Dad probably told her, but I don’t really know.”
“Ugh,” I said, dreading the moment. “I can already hear the bitching now.”
“You survived a crazy psycho bitch and being plowed by my monster cock, and you’re worried about a little complaining?” Mason joked.
I playfully smacked him on the face. “When it’s my mom doing the complaining, then yes. Yes I am.”
“We’ll have to take away your worries then.” Mason got up from his seat, picked me up in his arms and carried me over to the bed.
“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly.
Mason grinned as he lowered me onto the bed and began taking off his shirt, exposing his rock hard abs. “About to give you something that you’ll treasure forever.”
“Huh? You’ve already given it to me, and I will treasure it forever,” I said looking down at his growing bulge.
There was a twinkle in his eye as he replied coyly, “That too. But I was talking about something special — someone special.” There was an odd lilt to his words that had me wondering.
My breath quickened as I looked again at the gigantic bulge in his pants, until his meaning finally hit me.
I began to protest, “but with everything happening, your new job, me starting my career, and our parents . . .”
Mason pressed a finger against my lips, shushing me. “None of that matters. All that matters is what we feel for one another. I’ve wanted one thing since you walked into my life, Carly Belle Washington, and that one thing is you.”
“And now a baby?” I asked incredulously. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This couldn’t be Mason Keller talking.
Mason shook his head. “Not just any baby. The most talented baby ever to be born. Razor version 2.0.”
“You’re insane!” I smacked him and laughed. Then I crossed my arms and scowled. “And who says I want you to give me said baby, huh? Especially at a time like this.”
“Come on Carly,” Mason urged, leaning forward to deliver a kiss to my lips that left me wanting. “You know want it. Let me put a baby in the oven.”
Shit. Mason was so damn irresistible when he turned on his charm. Who the hell was I kidding? Mason Keller wanted me to give him a baby. And if I knew anything, what Mason wanted, Mason always got.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my heart filling with joy as I pulled him into a deep passionate kiss and then said, “Go for it.”
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Read on for the bonus novel, Addicted: A Bad Boy Romance. And don’t forget, if you enjoyed this book, join my mailing list and you’ll be notified of any future releases!
Addicted: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance
By Lauren Landish
“Your lips would look great wrapped around my…”
Who in the world tells a girl that on their first meeting? Tyler Locklin, that’s who. He’s filthy rich and arrogant with a set of abs that is the envy of all young men everywhere, and did I forget to mention devilishly handsome? He’s a bastard of the first order. I can’t stand to be in the same room with him.
But with one wink or a flash of his mischievous grin, I go weak in the knees. It pisses me off. I’m supposed to hate him. He’s an *. Yet, I can’t help but be drawn to him because I’m . . . ADDICTED.
* * *
Prologue
Victoria
I squirmed beneath the silken sheets, the last vestiges of an earth-shattering orgasm coursing through my sweat-covered limbs. My breasts rose and fell below the sheets as I tried to catch my breath and regain control. After a while, my racing pulse slowly started to calm down as the tremors slowly receded. At last, a sigh escaped my lips as my body was flooded by a rush of hormones.
It was always this way.
He takes me, ravaging my body for everything that it’s worth . . . and then leaves. It’s a game he plays. He wants to leave me in a state of desperation, aching for more of his touch. Aching to feel his lips all over my body. He leaves, knowing that I’ll still be there when he comes back, wanting every piece of him.
Bastard.
I should’ve left him. I had every right to. But whenever I think I’ve finally had enough, I make up reasons why I can’t. Maybe it’s because he's one of the richest men in the country. Maybe it’s that incredible swagger or that cocky grin that says he can f*ck any woman he wants. Or maybe it’s because I like feeling his eight-inch cock plowing through me like no tomorrow.