Broken Boys Despise Deceit: A Second Chance Romance Read online

  It’s scary as fuck.

  Her lips curve in a seductive smile as she pushes off the wall and stalks toward me. “Ready?” she purrs.

  “Fuck. Yes.” My hand snags hers, and I drag her to my truck parked in the back of the lot in a darkened corner. It’s an old piece of shit, but she’s loyal and reliable. I tug Scout in front of me, then spin her around and back her against the door. Her eyes are fire as my mouth crashes down over hers.

  She moans, releases my hand, and grabs fistfuls of my unruly hair. I press her harder against the panel with my body, then roll my hips, showing her just how hard I am for her already. “Fuck, you taste good,” I groan against the swell of her lips.

  Her tongue peeks out, tracing her pout. “Strawberry lip gloss,” she says, then guides my mouth back to hers.

  I grip her hips, then coast my hands up under her tank, loving the feel of her silky-smooth skin beneath my palms. My lips trail along her jaw to her ear. “I’m going to take my time with you tonight,” I murmur. “Fuck you real slow until you can’t stand it anymore. Make you squirm and shudder beneath me. Then, I’ll make you beg me to let you come on my dick.”

  Her chest rises and falls in rapid succession, her nails raking against my skull. I take her earlobe in my mouth, sucking lightly, letting her feel the sting of my teeth before I release it. “You’re going to come so hard you’ll see stars as your tight little pussy squeezes my dick in a death grip until I spill inside you.”

  Scout shudders and moans as she rocks her hips into mine. I lick a line from her collarbone back up to her ear again and grind my hard cock into her as I finish telling her how tonight is going to go down. “Then, as soon as I’ve caught my breath, I’m going to slide down your sweat-slicked body, tasting every inch as I go. And when I reach the apex of your thighs, I’m going to feast on your juicy pussy like it’s my last meal.”

  “Christ, Mase,” she whimpers. “What the hell are we still doing here?”

  I reach for the passenger door and open it, then move my hands back to her hips, lifting her into the cab. Her gaze is molten as she grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me into her space. “You’ve set the bar pretty fucking high. Don’t disappoint me.” She bites my bottom lip, making me groan.

  “Have I ever?”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” she says with a shrug.

  Shaking my head, I step back, close her door, then round the hood and get in behind the wheel. I glance at her as I crank my truck. She’s watching me closely, and I smirk. “Fucking is one department I never disappoint in.”

  She rolls her eyes as I pull out of the parking lot and steer the car in the direction of her duplex.

  I swear to God, Mase and his dirty mouth are going to be the death of me.

  Death via spontaneous combustion brought on by wickedly filthy words… Pretty sure it’s never happened to anyone before, but the more time I spend with Mase, the more certain I am that it’s a real possibility.

  My heart rate is through the roof, and I can’t stop squirming in my seat, rubbing my thighs together in a vain attempt at easing the ache pulsing through my center. The need to have him inside me is maddening.

  A few minutes later, he parks in the driveway that separates my side of the duplex from my aunt’s. The second he turns off the ignition, we’re out of the truck, and I’m fumbling with my keys when Mase presses his solid body against my back and rocks his hips.

  I press my ass into him as the key finally slides into the lock, and I push the door open, stumbling inside. Mase wraps an arm around my waist, steadying me.

  Spinning in his arms, I take the bottom of his hoodie and shirt and tug them up his ripped torso. He helps me remove them, and I can’t stop myself from caressing his gorgeous chest. It’s seriously hot. Everything about Mase turns me on. His face, his arms, his perfectly sculpted abs…

  My hands skate over his stomach, pausing on the waistband of his shorts as I peer up at him and slowly lower to my knees. He grins and digs a big hand into my hair as I tug his pants down his thighs, letting them pool at his ankles.

  When my gaze flicks back up to his, his grin is wolfish. “I love seeing you on your knees for me. Hottest fucking thing is you looking up at me with my dick between those pouty lips.”

  I flick my tongue out, licking his tip, and his fingers clench tighter in my hair. “No teasing me tonight. I’m not in the mood. Just suck it straight down that pretty throat.”

  For some insane reason, I do what he says, even though I loathe being told what to do—no matter the situation. But I want to suck him off. I want to taste him right now. Keeping our gazes locked, I lean forward with my mouth open wide and guide him inside.

  His breath hitches, and he gently rocks his hips. “That’s right, baby, just like that.” He brings his other hand to my neck, caressing my jaw with his thumb as I suck him as deep as I can until he’s groaning. “Yesss.”

  I bob my head up and down, swirling my tongue around the tip every time I pull back. Mase’s thighs tense, and he uses his grip on my hair to set the pace. I love it, craving his control. And that is fucking terrifying and really goddamn stupid. But I can’t help it. The bossier he gets, the hotter I am for him.

  Gripping his firm ass with one hand, I roll his balls in the palm of the other. I can’t take my eyes off his face; he’s so expressive. Pearly white teeth dig into his bottom lip. Dark curls fall over his forehead. With his lust-drunk stare locked on me, I reach between my legs. Mase’s eyes narrow to lethal slits and steps out of my grip.

  He shakes his head, bends down, then slides his hands beneath my arms and throws me over his shoulder before slapping my ass.

  I shriek. “What the fuck was that for?”

  “Did I say you could touch yourself?” he asks, stalking toward my bedroom.

  I swallow hard, then grit my teeth. “I don’t have to ask you for permission.”

  “The fuck you don’t,” he growls, and I swear to God I feel it in my pussy. He tosses me into the middle of my bed and then, with painstakingly slow movements, unties my boots and removes them, placing them neatly at the foot of my bed.

  He moves on to my super-tight jeans, and once he pops the button, he struggles to pull them down. “What the fuck kind of jeans are these? Cock-blocking jeans, that’s what,” he mutters as he tugs and yanks them down my thighs.

  I burst out laughing, and he lifts his head to glare at me, which only serves to make me laugh harder. “You okay down there?” I chuckle.

  Instead of answering, he just keeps on dragging my jeans down until they reach my ankles. Then, with one last yank, he tosses them over his shoulder.

  “I’m burning those,” he tells me as he braces himself over my body.

  I arch a brow. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  “Wasn’t askin’,” he says flatly, then drops his mouth to my throat, licking and sucking before scraping his teeth against the sensitive flesh.

  He rolls his hips into me, and I moan. But I need more. “Condom,” I mutter, lifting my hips to meet each of his teasing thrusts.

  Mase reaches for my bedside table and grabs one from the top drawer. He tears it open and rolls it down his shaft in record time, as eager to get this show on the road as I am. Reaching for my knees, he then moves between them and lifts them over his broad shoulders.

  His eyes drop to my lace-covered center, and he licks his lips. “Drag those to the side, babe.”

  I don’t hesitate, reaching down and sliding the damp fabric out of his way. He presses inside of me in one long, slow, deliciously deep thrust. My jaw clenches, and my back bows. It feels...

  Mase smirks, and I want to wipe the arrogant look off his face. But then, he pulls out and does it again, just as leisurely. I dig my fingers into his thick biceps and moan. “So good.”

  He keeps his torturously slow pace…in then out. I feel every glorious inch of every glide of his cock as he fills me over and over. With his palms positioned by my head, he leans down and brushes a delicate kiss against my brow, then my cheek, then finally my lips. His tongue teases mine with soft seductive strokes.

  He’s driving me mad, and I can’t stop squirming as pressure grows low in my belly. My pussy throbs as my orgasm builds. I’m so close. My nails dig into his arms. I whimper. I need him to go faster, harder, something…

  Mase lifts his head slightly, watching my face. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out as his cock drives into me again…and again. So deep and unrushed—I love and hate it.

  My chest rapidly rises and falls. “I need…” I pant. “I need…”

  “Tell me, babe, what do you need? Ask me for it. Beg me to make you come,” he growls.

  Oh fuck. Oh God. “Please, Mase,” I whine. He’s the only one who’s ever made me this crazy.

  It’s too much, my body trembling beneath him.

  “Please what?” he taunts.

  I shake my head, not wanting to give in. But I need it so bad. “Make me come,” I moan. “Please.”

  His mouth slams down against mine, his tongue delving deep, making me whimper and claw at his forearms. He snatches my wrists up in one massive hand and pins my arms above my head. Then, he draws his hips back and pounds into me over and over.

  Folded in half like a pretzel, I don’t fucking care because it feels so good. He feels so good. Everything he does lights me on fire. Mase and I, we’re like two forces of nature coming together to create a cataclysmic event. It’s big, it’s beautiful, it’s loud, it’s completely devastating, it’s us.

  His lips brush kisses along the column of my throat, and his pace never slows. He’s so in tune with what I need. He always has been.

  Panting, my body shudders. I’m so fucking close…

  He pulls out, f
lips me over, and wraps one big palm around the back of my neck, holding me in place as he lines himself up again. His knees bracket my thighs, and he leans down over me, caressing my side with gentle fingertips, teasing me.

  “That’s for trying to rub one out while you were sucking my dick. Only I make you come, Scout. Me,” he growls into my ear and pushes inside my slick heat.

  I’m nodding before he’s even finished speaking. Anything to get him back inside me. The second he bottoms out, I close my eyes, loving how he fills me. A sharp slap to my ass springs them open again. “And that?” I pant.

  “For funzies.” He chuckles and thrusts in and out so hard and so fast I can’t catch my breath.

  Pressure builds low in my belly again, my body trembling as tension grows. “Fuuuck,” I moan into my pillow. I can’t stop whimpering and squirming beneath him as my orgasm draws closer to the surface.

  Mase flexes his fingers around my neck and groans, “Fuck, baby, your pussy is pulsing around me. You feel so good. So. Fucking. Good.” He punctuates each word with the deep glide of his cock, and I can’t hold back anymore.

  All at once, blistering pleasure burns through my veins, washing over my body in a tidal wave of bliss as sparks burst behind my closed eyes.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, I’m dead on my feet. Scout and I went three rounds last night, and I didn’t drag my ass home until after two in the morning.

  Leaning my hip against the kitchen counter, I scroll through my socials and wait for the coffee machine to finish brewing its magic potion when Dad comes puttering in.

  “How you feelin’ after yesterday?” I ask, closing the app and sliding my cell into my pocket.

  He shrugs, then drags a chair out from the table, slowly lowering himself into it. “Feel like shit. So, same ol’, same ol’.”

  His once strong, deep voice breaks on a rasp, and I fucking hate it.

  “You spend the night with your new woman last night?” he asks.

  I scoff. “Not fuckin’ likely. Scout would have a heart attack if I stayed the night.”

  My old man cocks a brow in question, and I shake my head. “She’s got these rules. Like, no cuddling, no touching her feet, and yeah, no sleepovers.”

  “Feet?” he says, his brows dipping low as he eyes me. “You got a foot fetish, son?”

  I scoff. “No. While I find every part of a woman’s body beautiful, I am not into feet. You know there’s porn of just chicks jackin’ dudes off with their feet? What the fuck is up with that?”

  Dad tilts his head to the side, a weird look taking over his features.

  “You alright?” I ask, taking a step toward him.

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “Yeah, just trying to picture it. Different strokes for different folks, I guess.”

  “Truth.” I turn back to the coffee machine and fill my mug, then grab a second one out of the cupboard and fill it too. I hand one to Dad as I take the seat across from him. “I got home a bit after two. Obviously didn’t wake you, so my ninja skills are still sharp.”

  He nods and takes a sip from his steaming mug. “You think she’ll come around eventually, or are you going to pussy out?”

  I’ve thought about this a lot. Even though I don’t even really know if I want this thing with Scout to be more than it is, I have thought about it. Just because I’ve caught the feels doesn’t mean I have to act on them. We can keep fucking around, and I can just keep my shit on lock.

  “I wouldn’t call it pussying out, more like using my brain. Relationships are trouble. I don’t want to touch one with a ten-foot pole, let alone my pole.”

  Again, he shakes his head. “You’re full of shit, Mase. And you’re scared. I get it. I didn’t exactly set the best example for you. But one of these days, I want you to have what your momma and I had.”

  “Sorry, old man, it’s not for me. I’m happy to keep on doing what we’re doing and leave it at that. Just because I sometimes think I’d like to hold her hand in public or some shit doesn’t mean I have to do it. I’ve got this thing called self-control.” And self-preservation…

  “Keep tellin’ yourself that, kid. But self-control will only get you so far with the right woman. If this one’s it, I’m afraid you’re fucked, son,” he says with a cheery grin and then, mug in hand, gets up and sluggishly wanders out of the kitchen, leaving me glaring after him.

  How hard could it possibly be to keep these feelings under wraps? I snort. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve totally got this.

  I’ve been working Zeke out for a couple of hours when Trick strides over to us with a chick I don’t recognize on his heels. I lower the pads as they get closer, and Zeke grabs his water bottle, taking a few swigs.

  “Mase, Zeke, this is Presley. She’ll be taking some shots of you two in the new line of gym gear,” Trick says, waving a hand in her direction. He glances at her, his gaze narrowing for a fraction of a second before turning back to us.

  “Umm, question,” I say, raising my hand like a kindergartener. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Trick sighs and runs a hand over his head, gripping the back of his neck. “She’s the photographer doing the promo shoots, and you two are the lucky guys who get to stand around and look pretty for her.”

  Water sprays out of Zeke’s mouth, all over Presley. “Fuck, sorry!” he says, rushing to hand her the towel that’s slung over his shoulder—the very sweaty towel.

  She cringes and leans away from him as she wipes her face with the bottom of her baggy black shirt. Trick’s eyes fly to her exposed stomach, and his jaw clenches. I do a quick glance down to his hands and find them clenched into fists. Interesting…

  Zeke is completely oblivious to the way Trick is currently trying to murder him with his eyes, so I grab his shoulder and yank him back a step. “Dude, nobody wants to be near your stinky sweat rag.”

  He frowns and sniffs the cotton, then blanches. “Shit, sorry again.”

  Presley gives him a shy smile and says, “It’s okay. No harm done. It’s just a bit of water. It won’t break me.” She side-eyes Trick as she adds that last part, and I’m so here for whatever the hell is going down between these two.

  “You two know each other?” I ask all casual, as if I’m not picking up on the vibe surrounding them.

  Trick cuts his gaze to me and nods. “We used to. But not anymore.”

  Presley dips her head and stares at the ground. That’s when I notice the bulky backpack she’s sporting. “What’s in the bag?”

  “My camera, lenses, memory cards, spare batteries, that kind of thing,” she tells me. “Speaking of, it’s really heavy. Are you guys ready to get started?”

  Right, photoshoot. I scratch my neck and shift my attention back to the boss man. “Not sure if you’re aware of this, but nowhere in my job description does it say anything about parading around in the latest gym apparel. So…”

  “I don’t mind doing it,” Zeke blurts, stepping forward. He shadow boxes on the spot, ducking and weaving. “Where do you want me?”

  “Shut up, Zee. And Mase”—Trick glowers then smirks—“you just got a promotion, or demotion, whatever way you want to look at it. You’re doing this.” He mock slaps my cheek a couple times then strides off, leaving Presley staring after him with a little frown on her face.

  After a beat, she shakes her head and looks to me then Zeke, frown still in place as she says, “You two didn’t know about this, huh?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, taking the heavy pack from her shoulder. “I should have expected it. I mean, I’m hot as fuck; of course people are gonna want to buy the shit if I’m wearing it.” I grin at her, and she cracks a small smile.

  “Not full of yourself or anything,” Zeke mutters.

  I raise a brow. “Just stating the facts, my man. Only reason he’s making you do this is ‘cause you’re a pretty boy. Won’t be after the fight on Friday night, though.”

  He scoffs. “Fuck off. If anything, I’m the hot one, and you’re the pretty boy with those big brown Bambi eyes and long lashes.”

  My fist shoots out, connecting with his bicep. “They’re seductive, dickwad.”