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Bad Boy Valentine
Bad Boy Valentine
Bad Boy Valentine
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Bad Boy Valentine

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“Favorite flavor? Well it sure as hell ain’t vanilla. Bend over, Valentine.”

Kate Molina isn’t looking for love; she just needs a reliable contractor to finish her bakery remodel. Hiring the bad-boy convict who broke her heart? Definitely not part of the plan. So what if he’s the only guy who ever gave her the big O, and—ugh, fine—even hotter than she remembered? Toe-curling orgasms aside, it’s way too late to forgive and forget.

If only she could forget the hot slide of his tongue between her thighs…

Eight years ago, Jagger Barnes made the biggest damn mistake of his life, costing him his freedom and the only woman he ever loved. Now out on parole, he’s determined to work hard, stay the fuck out of trouble, and leave the past behind. But as usual, fate has other plans… starting with his sexy-as-sin, mad-as-hell ex.

One look at Kate’s lush little ass, and Jagger’s more than ready to make up for all those lonely nights…

Love may be naughtier the second time around, but when Cupid takes aim at the reformed bad boy and his sugar-sweet baker, will the arrow finally hit the mark, or is their smoking hot reunion a recipe for disaster?
LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 1, 2016
ISBN9781948455787
Bad Boy Valentine

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    Bad Boy Valentine - Sylvia Pierce

    Chapter One

    Dread sat heavy on Kate’s chest, wrapping her naked body in a chill that yanked her out of a deep, orgasm-induced sleep.

    Ignoring the delicious burn of her thigh muscles, she rolled over onto her back and opened her eyes, adjusting to the darkness. They’d left the window open, but Brooklyn’s late-night spring air wasn’t the source of the cold. Something was just… off. She felt it deep in her bones, a current of unease humming beneath her muscles.

    Jagger? she mumbled, her eyes finally landing on his silhouette in the darkness. He was sitting at the end of their bed, fully dressed. His white T-shirt looked blue in the moonlight.

    Jagger turned to look at her over his shoulder and smiled, his wavy chestnut hair falling into his face, shading his eyes. Didn’t mean to wake you, Kit-Kat.

    He turned away again, the mattress shaking as he bent over and jammed his feet into his boots.

    What’s wrong?

    Just something I gotta go take care of. He squeezed her foot beneath the blanket, then stood up and grabbed his leather jacket from the rocking chair in the corner. Go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon.

    What? No. What’s going on? Kate sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest as she eyed him suspiciously. She was fully awake now, and his soothing tone wasn’t fooling her for a second. She watched him silently, waiting for an explanation as he continued to get ready, dodging her gaze.

    Even in the darkness, the sleek lines of his body were well-defined, his muscled shoulders and chest tapering into narrow hips that Kate loved to wrap her legs around. His jeans hung low, and when he stretched to tug on his jacket, his T-shirt rode up, revealing a strip of skin and a trail of dark hair she’d earlier painted with hot, passionate kisses.

    Her stomach swooped at the not-so-distant memories.

    Don’t let him walk out that door…

    Kate swallowed hard. The voice inside her head was insistent, nagging, and had a tendency to show up at the worst possible times.

    But it had never led her astray. Gran had taught her at an early age to listen to that inner voice at all costs, and she always did.

    Talk him out of it. Now.

    Jagger came over to her side of the bed and slid open the nightstand drawer, fishing for the keys to his Harley. The clock glowed bright green—three-thirty in the morning.

    Jagger, Kate said firmly. What the hell? It’s the middle of the night. Where are you—

    Meeting up with Rage and those guys. He bent down and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, then pulled back and flashed her a dimpled grin. They’d been together since her junior year of high school—his senior—and six years later, that damn smile still made her heart beat faster. Be home before you know it.

    "How about you just be home now and I won’t have to worry, she said, pouting. She couldn’t help it; Rage gave her the creeps. You know what happens when I worry."

    You bake me cookies. Jagger smiled again.

    God, you’re impossible. Kate laughed, but he was totally right. Rather than eat her feelings like a normal woman, Kate baked them for other people to eat. Whether she was stressed, nervous, or too excited to contain herself, every emotional overload got dealt with the same way in Kate’s kitchen, all the unspent energy fueling batches of cookies, cupcakes, pies, pastries, and chocolates.

    Sorry, babe, Jagger said. Can’t see how that’s a bad thing for me.

    Kate sighed. They’d only been living together a few months, and she didn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t have his space, his freedom. He’d given her the same respect. He wasn’t like some of her friends’ boyfriends, demanding her constant attention, trying to dictate her schedule. He never complained when she wanted to spend time with her friends, or when she went over to Gran’s to cook dinner every Sunday, or when she’d holed up at the NYU library for days on end to study for finals. Kate had always believed that a relationship needed air to grow. Space to breathe. Even before Jagger had asked her to move in with him, she’d always promised herself she wouldn’t be the type of woman to get between a guy and his friends.

    Sure, she and Jagger both had hot tempers, and they’d engaged in more than a few knock-down battles—mostly when he came home drunk, or when he forgot to call to say he’d be out late, or when she blabbed to Gran about things Jagger thought should stay private. But even during their worst fights, Kate had always managed to keep his friends out of the fight, to stay on the right side of her promise.

    She was lucky that Jagger ran with a decent group—mostly guys he worked with at his uncle’s construction company, and a handful of people he’d grown up with in Red Hook.

    But Rage? That guy was aptly named, and he and his pack of meathead followers made Kate nervous as hell. Jagger had only started hanging out with them after doing some contract work at Rage’s bar in Long Island City last summer, but even from the few interactions she’d had with them, Kate could tell they were bad news.

    Before now, she’d never shared her concerns with Jagger—she never had any solid evidence to back up her claims, or any real reason to push it. But hanging out for a few beers and a game of pool at the bar was one thing. Meeting up in the middle of the night, calling Jagger out of bed?

    That was something else entirely.

    Fighting off a shiver, Kate grabbed Jagger’s hand.

    Come back to bed, baby. She flashed a hungry grin, looking up at him with wide eyes. We can pick up where we left off earlier.

    Hmm. He trailed his fingers down her chest, tugging the sheet away from her body, slowly revealing her bare flesh. Her breasts were full and firm, nipples rising in the cool night air. You do make a good offer.

    He brought his hand to her breast, and she let out a soft little moan, biting her bottom lip. God, his touch had always been her complete undoing.

    Jagger swallowed hard, his eyes locked on her mouth as she arched into his warmth. His thumb ghosted back and forth across her stiff peak, sending waves of tiny shivers throughout her body.

    Can’t get enough, huh? he teased.

    Kate closed her eyes as his fingers drifted between her breasts, down the front of her chest, down to her stomach. Her legs fell open beneath the sheets, and Jagger slid his hand between her thighs.

    Fuck, he groaned, his voice raspy. He cupped her, slipping a finger inside her slick pussy as his palm pressed against her clit. You’re still so wet.

    Your fault, she said. You can’t just leave me like this. I’ll have no choice but to take care of it myself.

    Yeah, I don’t think so. Jagger tore away the sheet and climbed onto the bed, straddling her. His jeans were cool and rough against her thighs, but she didn’t care. She didn’t even care that he was wearing his boots in bed—she just wanted him to stay.

    Thought you were in a hurry, she said.

    I can wait another minute. His dimples flashed again, but his amber-brown eyes were dark and intense as he lowered his mouth to hers, barely an inch between them.

    Jagger’s familiar scent—a heady combination of leather, soap, and sawdust—was making Kate dizzy. She’d started this little tease to lure him back to bed, but now she was so turned on, so hungry for it, if he didn’t touch her soon, she was going to explode.

    She forced out a breathy laugh. "I don’t know how your other girlfriends do things, but you need more than a minute to make me happy, Jagger Barnes."

    We’ll see. Still straddling her, Jagger pressed his mouth to hers, nipping at her bottom lip. He sucked it into his mouth, tracing it with his tongue, hypnotizing her.

    Then, without warning, he slid two fingers inside her pussy, pumping her slow and deep.

    God, yes. Just like that.

    He kissed her mouth, her jaw, her neck, lowering himself on the bed to reach more of her. Still fucking her with his fingers, he tongued her nipple, then bit down hard, making her gasp in delicious pain. She writhed beneath him as he pulled it into his mouth, sucking her with the same pulsating rhythm as his fingers thrusting deep inside. Her body trembled, pleasure crackling across her skin like lightning gathering on the horizon.

    Jagger, she whispered, threading her hands into his hair, losing herself in the exquisite feel of his mouth, his tongue, even the rough scratch of his stubble against her soft skin. Every bit of him belonged to her, just as she belonged to him. No one could take that away from her—not even Rage.

    Jagger continued to work his way down her body, worshipping every inch of her flesh. His lips fluttering against her stomach, and then he shifted his weight, finally settling in between her thighs.

    He lifted her legs over his shoulders, the leather jacket cool and soft on the backs of her thighs. Kate was powerless to resist, rocking herself into his kiss as he flicked his tongue against her clit with soft, teasing strokes.

    More. Harder.

    Jagger pulled back, blowing a hot breath between her thighs that made her shiver. Kate whimpered in protest, but they both knew how much she loved to be teased—how much she needed it. Getting over the edge had never been easy for her, but that had never stopped Jagger. He’d studied her body with the dedication of a scholar, learning every curve, every hot button, every secret, and in their years together, he’d become a master of her pleasure. He talked a good game about making her come in under a minute, but when it came down to it, he always took his sweet time, navigating her body with his expert touch, kissing and sucking, stroking and rubbing, giving it to her hard or soft, fast or slow, rough or gentle, however she needed it, for however long it took.

    She grabbed his hair again, mouthing the words she knew he couldn’t hear.

    I love you so fucking much…

    I’m gonna make you come, he growled. I need to taste you. Now.

    Kate shivered again. Gone was the cool, teasing Jagger she’d urged back into bed. The man who pressed his face between her thighs now was mad with need, wild and desperate, ready to lose complete control, all because of her.

    Take it, she whispered, rocking her hips forward. Make me come.

    Jagger let out a moan, and Kate melted as he closed his mouth over her needy flesh. She couldn’t see his face through the wild tangle of his hair, but she could feel his tongue slide out from between his lips as he sucked her clit into his mouth, then released it, sliding his tongue down along the outer edge of her lips, and then finally, blissfully, spearing her.

    He groaned against her flesh, the vibrations making her dizzy. She was getting close.

    More, she panted, arching her body off the bed. Deeper.

    As Kate tightened her thighs around his face, he slid his hands under her ass and pulled her closer, thrusting his tongue in and out, working her pussy into a hot, slippery lather. The time for teasing was over; she was too far gone, nowhere else left to go but right over the fucking edge.

    Sensing she was close, Jagger slid a hand out from under her ass and brought it up between

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