Release Date: June 3rd
My name is Slade Merrick and I’m a fucking sex addict . . .
I’ve been told it’s a problem. But I see it as a passion; something that I’m good at. And who the fuck stops something that they’re good at?
They want me to seek help; get my cock in check. Don't judge my lifestyle. You’re no better than me. Just admit it, you like to fuck too. Sex is what I do best; my own personal high, so I embrace it instead of being ashamed.
When I'm not fucking, I'm slinging drinks at Walk Of Shame or stripping my way into your bed; another thing I'm good at. Every woman’s darkest fantasy brought to life.
So, am I stopping? Fuck no. Sex is beautiful, raw and erotic and I get off knowing I can have it with anyone I want . . . with the exception of her.
She walks into the club swaying those hips, instantly drawing my cock to attention. She’s pure perfection. That is, until she opens that mouth, drawing me in and for the first time in forever I want something more than sex. I want her and she hates it.
Things get dirty. Dirty is what I like; it’s how I live. But . . . she’s playing a game she can never win.
I take a huge gulp as my eyes once again land on him and oh God, that ass.
His jeans are now hanging half way down his ass, showing his muscular butt cheeks through his white boxer briefs. The busty woman in front of him is desperately tugging on the front of his jeans, working on pulling them down his body. I don’t blame her. I want to take them off with my teeth.
Crap, my mind is in the gutter.
Placing his hands behind her head, he pulls her face down by his crotch as he starts grinding his hips up and down in perfect rhythm to the song playing. It’s a slow, seductive song that makes me think about sex. Yup, I’m definitely thinking about sex now.
Just as I think he’s about to actually let this woman publicly suck his dick or something, he grips her by the hips and pulls her up to her feet. Slowly, he makes his way behind her and his eyes land on me and they stay there, locked with mine.
What the . . . why? Stop looking at me.
I tug on the collar of my white blouse and without meaning to I start fanning myself off. He smiles at this, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me. He’s doing this on purpose.
Bending the girl over, he grips her hair in one hand and pulls her neck back while grinding his hips on her ass. His eyes bore into mine as he shakes himself out of his jeans and lets all of his sexiness consume us. Yes, he is damn sexy and he knows it. That just pisses me off more. His legs are thick and muscular; covered with random tattoos and every muscle in his body is well sculpted.
Now that he’s facing me it’s easy to see his defined chest and abs flexing as he moves with the music. The muscles leading down to his briefs are staring at me, flexing with each sway of his hips; calling out to be touched and licked. Oh yummy. I want a taste . . .
Holy hell, he’s in shape; like a fitness model. Plus, he has random tattoos inked across his chest, sides, lower stomach and arms as well. Hell, he has tattoos all over and it makes him even hotter. They glisten as the perspiration forms on his skin.
He’s staring at me, while practically fucking this girl with his clothes on. Still, I’m standing there watching as if it were me.
What is wrong with me?
I feel myself start to sweat and get a tingling sensation between my thighs as he bites his bottom lip and starts thrusting hard and deep while his eyes devour me. Well, at least I imagine it would be really deep. I can’t deny that I bet it would feel so good.
He must notice me sweating because he laughs a little and steps away from the girl that is still bent over with her ass in the air. Ignoring all the girls screaming for him, he starts walking with meaning; unstoppable. With each step, he gets closer and closer to me.
My body is shaking just from his presence and my breathing picks up. I hate my body right now.
His eyes are intense; telling me he wants me as his. A part of me almost wants to give in just from that look alone.
My eyes slowly leave his eyes, searching my way down his muscular body and landing right on his hard dick.
Oh. My. God.
You can see everything through his tight briefs. The thickness of his dick and even the shape of its head. The whole package. He’s so . . . hard.
Stopping in front of me, he smirks and tilts his head down toward his cock. My eyes are betraying me. Damn bastards. They won’t move away. “You know, it’s against the rules, but I would let you touch it if you wanted to.”
Shaking my head, I pull my eyes away and slam back the rest of my drink. This is my third one and I’m a lightweight; probably not a good thing. I take a step back as he takes a step closer. Clearing my throat, I ask, “Touch what?”
Reaching out, he grabs my hand and places it on the V of muscles that lead down to his briefs, slowly sliding it down his sweaty, slick body. “My cock,” he whispers.
My body clenches from his words and I hate it. Yanking my hand away, I grab Kayla by the arm and slam my empty glass down onto the table beside me. I need to get out of here.
Victoria Ashley grew up in Rockford, IL and has had a passion for reading for as long as she can remember. After finding a reading app where it allowed readers to upload their own stories, she gave it a shot and writing became her passion.
She lives for a good romance book with tattooed bad boys that are just highly misunderstood and is not afraid to be caught crying during a good read. When she’s not reading or writing about bad boys, you can find her watching her favorites shows such as Sons Of Anarchy, Dexter and True Blood.
She is the author of Wake Up Call and This Regret and is currently working on more releases for 2014.