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French Kiss: A Bad Boy Romance by Jade Allen (131)


 

“Hurry up!” hollered a voice through the bathroom door as Emma lazily continued with her shower. It was a well-known fact among this group of friends that a closed door was nothing more than a formality. Since when did the bathroom become the new living room? Emma pondered, lathering up while three of her best friends communed around the vanity mirror. It's not that it bothered her; these women were like sisters, friends since high school, but it was an interesting question, nevertheless.

The group had decided to reconnect with a summer-long vacation together in an upscale Newport, Rhode Island home rental. It was the first night of their getaway, and after a day of touring some of the ritziest mansions in the area, the girls were headed out to unwind with a night out on the town--or at least a night at the nearest bar.

“I'm coming out, ladies! Cover your eyes or prepare to drool,” Emma teased with a grin. It's true that Emma was definitely the most beautiful of the bunch, with a slim waist, curvy hips and legs that went on for miles. It didn't hurt that she also had ridiculously perfect, feminine features; long, wavy auburn tresses and a come-hither smile that could make any man hard. Emma flung open the shower curtain and stepped out as Lisa entered the room, clothed in only a bra and thong and in the midst of a veritable fashion crisis. She held four different outfits in her arms and wore a panic-stricken look on her face. “I can't decide. It's been so long since I've been out on a Friday night.”

Lisa was the high-strung member of the group. After college and law school, Lisa landed herself an enviable position in a prestigious law firm, and hadn't really taken a day off since. She'd become far more comfortable in an office or boardroom than a nightclub, and changing gears to vacation mode was taking its toll. Emma took pity. Standing nude in front of the shower, she offered her outstretched arms to her friend.

“Come here, Lisa,” she soothed, pulling Lisa close and rubbing her back reassuringly. To an onlooker, the scene might have appeared like something out of an adult video; Emma naked and glistening wet, her tits pressed against Lisa's lace-covered breasts, and a roomful of partially clothed women watching the scene. But it was no big deal here.

“It's okay. Just take a deep breath and calm down. We'll have you dressed to the nines before we leave,” Emma offered with a smile. Feeling Lisa's pulse return to normal, Emma pulled away gently. “Now, do you mind? I'm naked here!” she scolded mildly with a grin. Lisa was feeling calmer now.

“You know I never mind you naked, Em,” Lisa returned with a smile. “Okay, so which one says 'I'm here on vacation and looking for a good time?'” she queried, holding out her selection of outfits to her friends. Emma and two others--Kristy and Sasha--voted for the knee-length, backless sheath.

An hour later, the group headed out on foot; the bar they had spied earlier was only two blocks away, and the light breeze that had blown in at sundown made the sultry heat of the evening air bearable. Emma was quieter than usual. She strolled along with the group, nodding to keep up with the conversation, but her mind wandered elsewhere. It had been six months to the day since she left her long-time boyfriend, Adam. They had been together for nearly five years, but no matter how often they talked about taking the relationship further, Adam insisted he just needed a little more time before he settled down for good. Unfortunately, when Emma found him with his face buried in another woman's nether regions, she'd realized that he wasn't about to commit any time in the near future either. Her ego had definitely taken a blow, but eventually she realized that perhaps she wasn't as much in love with Adam as she had thought. After losing her parents and only brother to a car accident 10 years ago, she realized after the breakup that what she really longed for was a family.

The group reached the bar and grabbed a table away from the assemblage of patrons occupying the stools around the bar. Lisa ordered the first round of drinks--some strange tropical concoction that Emma was sure contained more alcohol in a single glass than she'd consumed during the past five years. Outside of the comfort zone of her friends, Emma seldom strayed from the straight and narrow, always too concerned about others to prioritize her own selfish wants and needs. She hated it when others labeled her the 'good girl,' but she couldn't really argue the title. But, she planned to let loose and have fun with the gals tonight, so as soon as the drinks arrived, she downed hers quickly and signaled for another. If she had to consume enough liquor to inebriate a horse in order to ditch the good girl title, so be it.

Half the group was on the dance floor by the time Emma had downed her second drink; only her and Lisa remained at the table, and Lisa was eying a tall, dark and slightly dippy-looking guy two tables over. Emma had just started her third drink, but stopped mid-sip when someone caught her attention from across the room. She wasn't entirely sure what it was that was so captivating at first; she'd had her fair share of good-looking men. It wasn't that he was handsome--which he was--but he sat all alone at a table in the middle of the crowd; not off in a corner like so many solo bar-goers are apt to do. And he didn't seem the least bit perturbed by his solitary state. In fact, he sat so casually and comfortably, Emma surmised he would look no different if he were lounging in his own living room.

Even from his seated position, Emma could see that he was tall, but he didn't appear disproportionately so when every inch of him she could decipher was solid, sinewy muscle. His raven black hair was cropped short, emphasizing the solid line of his jaw. He was dressed casually, but Emma could tell that his clothes were not discount store finds. This man was covered in designer threads from head to toe, from the button-up, silk dress shirt and fitted dark-wash jeans to the gold money clip she could see peeking from his jeans pocket and his black leather shoes. Emma's gaze made its way back up the stranger's body, but when her emerald green eyes locked onto his royal blues, she quickly realized she'd been busted. She had a decision to make in that moment; she could look away bashfully and get back to downing tropical concoctions, or she could opt for a little fun instead. Since tonight was all about letting loose and having fun, it took less than a blink of an eye for her to commit.

Emma held the stranger's gaze as she rose from her seat. She grabbed her drink from the table and downed her third concoction of the evening, a single drop escaping her lips to drip down her neck and disappear into her cleavage. She leaned forward to let Lisa know where she was going, and then sauntered over to the sexy stranger across the room.

“Hi there,” she began in a sultry tone, beginning to feel the effects of her liquid courage. “How are you this evening? I couldn't help but notice you're all alone over here. Would you care for a little company?” Her racing pulse and sweaty palms were evidence that she'd been out of the dating scene for a while--five and a half years to be exact--but God it felt good to get back in the saddle.

Marco was more than accustomed to sexy, flirtatious women, but there was something very different about this one. She didn't strike him as a gold-digger and she wasn't brash in her flirting, but conversational instead; almost too chatty, as if she was a bit more nervous than she cared to let on. He noticed her the moment she walked into the bar, sticking out from her group like a sore thumb given that she was leagues ahead of them in the looks department. Damn, I've known plenty of fine women, but this one is fucking drop dead gorgeous, he thought. “I'm fine, thanks. Please—have a seat. What’s your name, Beautiful?”

“I'm Emma,” she responded as a thrill coursed through her body in response to the stranger's seductive Italian accent.

“My name’s Marco,” he responded in kind. “I haven't seen you here before. Are you new to the area?”

“My girlfriends and I are renting a house here for the summer. We just got here today and spent the day touring some of the most beautiful mansions I've ever seen,” Emma replied enthusiastically. “You should see them. My favorite was a 70-room Italian Renaissance-style palazzo. It was designed to imitate what you might find in a 16th century Genoa palace.”

Just half an octave higher and I'd sound like an overexcited schoolgirl, Emma thought. She took a deep breath, determined to invoke her sexy, flirtatious side. “So, Marco, what is a man as delicious-looking as you doing all alone here on a Friday night?” Oh my God, did I just call him delicious?! Jesus, Emma, she silently reprimanded herself.

Marco didn't seem the least bit put off by Emma's remark. “Well, I'm not alone now, Emma, am I?” he commented smoothly. “Actually, I just finished wrapping up some business at one of those mansions you visited, and I thought I'd grab a drink to unwind,” he replied.

“Oh, do you work in one of those homes?”

“Well, not exactly,” he responded as he deliberated just how forthcoming he should be. It was entirely possible that she was a money-hungry vixen with a good eye for a man with loads of cash, but Marco had a gift; he could read people better than anyone he knew--a useful characteristic in his particular line of work. And while Emma had all the equipment necessary to take a guy for every dime he had--and have him give it up happily for a chance at that incredible body-- his gut told him she wasn't digging for anything other than a little harmless fun. And by the nervous energy radiating from her, Marco figured it had been awhile since she'd gone looking for even that. “The mansion you just mentioned actually belongs to my family.” His gut had never steered him wrong before, so Marco decided he might as well wow this beauty a little. Perhaps she would like a private tour.

Emma's jaw dropped at Marco's little revelation. Her first response was to laugh at his joke, but one look at his face and she could see no humor was intended. He was either one hell of an actor or she had just run into a bona fide gazillionaire. She was only looking for a little fun and excitement; not trying to hook up with Mr. Moneybags. “Oh...” was the only response she could muster past her lips.

Marco was sure his gut had been right; Emma seemed more put off by his apparent fortune than hungry for it. She didn't ask whether he had other homes, what he did for a living, what kind of car he drove; in fact, as he pondered her lack of response, Emma looked more ready to flee than to dig in with a set of money-hungry claws.

“What other sightseeing do you and your friends plan to do this summer?” he asked, hoping a change of subject would squelch her intention to leave.

“Oh, actually, we haven't made too many plans; sort of winging it, I guess. Sash wanted to visit the National Museum of American Illustration. She's an artist, you know? And Lisa was hoping to see Fort Adams State Park,” she answered with only half her mind in the conversation. As much as she wanted to flee, arousal coursed through her every time Marco spoke, distracting her and drawing her attention to the sexy way his muscles flexed and relaxed as he moved in his seat.

“I've visited that park many times,” he said, leaning closer. “The view of Newport Harbor is amazing, but my favorite part is the underground tunnels,” he said in a quiet, husky voice. “And what will you do after your summer of sightseeing is done, Emma? Where is home for you?” he asked, no longer just trying to distract her, but genuinely interested in learning about Emma.

“Minneapolis. Lived there all my life, actually. I'm a nurse, and I work with a few community outreach programs. What do you…uh…do, Marco?” she stuttered, a little uncomfortable with the inquiry, but curious nevertheless.

“My family has business interests in a variety of industries: acquisitions, management, international trade—I help out where I’m needed,” he replied nondescriptly. While he may have been willing to confess that his family had money, he certainly couldn't tell her that his fortune was funded by the Mafia. Even if he was allowed to divulge his family's business, it certainly wouldn't help him get in Emma's pants if she knew the man sitting across from her was in the mob.

“Sounds complex,” Emma replied, increasingly less concerned with Marco's family and more so with the heat spreading throughout her body, settling between her thighs.

“Do you like the water, Emma?” he asked out of the blue. “I have a boat not far from here with a beautiful view of the ocean. You wanna get out of here and check it out?”

It wasn't exactly the proposition Emma was hoping for; her fiery pussy was demanding far more than a watery panorama, but putting aside the arousal coursing through her, she really was enjoying Marco's company. “I suppose I can leave the gals here to fend for themselves,” she joked, gathering her purse and waving goodbye to let Lisa know she'd be finding her own way home. Marco placed a hand on the small of Emma's back as she stood and began heading toward the exit. The heat from his hand sent shivers down her spine and made her pussy ache even more.

And there his hand remained during the walk to the nearby docks, leaving Emma painfully aware of just how Marco's touch was setting her body ablaze with every step. She babbled on about herself; her fast-paced job in the emergency room at Abbott Northwestern Hospital; her outreach work with underprivileged kids; the one-bedroom apartment she moved into six months ago and proceeded to decorate according to a Feng Shui guide she found at a local bookstore. She even told Marco about the rise and fall of her long-time relationship with Adam. Jeez, could I possibly sound any more pathetic, Emma wondered. But, preoccupied with Marco's hand on her body, she found it difficult to put a proverbial cork in it.

Marco couldn't remove his hand from Emma. He had only intended to leave it there briefly, but from the moment he touched her, he wanted nothing more than to touch more of her; uncover every inch of her body and then explore it with his hands, his fingers, his mouth and tongue. He gritted his teeth against his arousal, but as they walked, every word that left Emma's lips only served to feed the fire. She was absolutely genuine, and the combination of her incredible body and her guileless character were driving him wild. He felt like a shark circling its innocent prey, and this was one “feeding” he knew he absolutely couldn't resist.

As the pair reached the docks, Marco signaled to a long stretch of boardwalk that led to a small collection of grandiose vessels. They came to stop in front of the last in the line: an enormous--and obviously expensive--yacht. It must have been at least 60 meters long and four decks above water. Emma shouldn't have been surprised; if his family owned the house she had gawked over today, then when Marco had said he had a “boat,” she supposed she should be grateful they didn't stop in front of a luxury cruise ship.

Ruefully, Marco dropped his hand from Emma's back to step onto the yacht's deck. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?” she mocked with a grin. He turned and offered his hand; as he helped her onto the deck, something inside him snapped.

Marco had tried to quell his raging desire, but he lost the battle in that moment. He wanted Emma--now. Just as her feet touched down on the yacht's deck, Marco grabbed her hips, pulling her close and crushing her body against his. He leaned his head down to Emma's ear and whispered huskily, “I need to have you, Emma.” He released the hold on one of her hips, guiding her hand down to his cock, which was rock hard and pressing painfully against the seam of his jeans. This is what Emma had hoped for, but Marco's polite invitation and reserved manner had left her thinking she was out of luck for tonight. She had no idea he was every bit as wild with desire.

“Take off your clothes. I want to see every inch of your body.” Marco needed her naked, but if he touched her now, he'd be done for. And there was no way he was going to let this end quickly.

Emma's head darted back and forth, searching the docks for boaters or people out for a stroll, but she stopped herself. She wanted a little wild fun, didn't she? Nodding her head in determination, she locked eyes with Marco, reaching for the hemline of her dress. In one slow, smooth movement, she pulled the dress over her head and tossed it onto the deck. A riveting thrill coursed through her; standing in front of this incredibly handsome stranger, clothed only in a cream-colored satin bra, matching thong and 4-inch strappy sandals, Emma felt incredibly naughty.

“Don't stop there, Emma,” Marco growled. “I want to see all of you.”

She reached behind her back and unlatched the bra's clasp, letting her breasts spring free. Marco groaned as Emma hooked her thumbs under the straps at her hips. She slowly began to slip off the thong, exposing her smooth pussy to Marco's searing gaze. His eyes on her naked body sent erotic sensations coursing through her, making her soaking wet.

Whether it was the alcohol or the high of arousal, Emma wasn't sure--but she decided to take her sex appeal a little further. Starting at her thighs, Emma slowly ran her hands over her body, grazing her hips, her stomach and stopping to cup her tits to tantalize Marco. She squeezed gently and ran her fingers over her nipples. Leaving one hand on her breast, she let the other trail back downward to tease her clit. She moaned as her fingers made contact, so aroused that she was instantly revved up. She took a deep breath and started rubbing her clit as Marco watched, every muscle in his body taut with arousal.

“Oh, God,” he groaned. One moment she's an innocent do-gooder, and the next she's playing with herself to get me off, he thought incredulously. And, dammit it was working. He'd had dozens of women--probably more--and not one had ever had him so aroused that he feared he might lose the battle before he even started. He wasn't sure that every experience he'd ever had put together could compare to what he was feeling now. It was one thing to fuck some experienced minx, but it was quite another to watch this genuine beauty unleash her sensuality and succumb to pure, unadulterated desire.

His eyes locked onto Emma's, and her fingers began to slow. “No, Emma--don't stop. I want to watch you cum.” Emma's eyes remained locked on Marco's and her fingers picked up their pace, rubbing her clit faster. Her other hand squeezed one nipple, making her moan loud as she felt her orgasm nearing. After a few more seconds she began to cum, moaning her release as her eyes rolled back and her body shuddered.

Marco was harder than he'd ever been in his life, and he'd held back for as long as he could. He had to touch her, squeeze her, feel her wetness on his fingers. He moved the few steps between them fast and pulled Emma against him. His mouth was on hers in an instant, crushing her lips beneath his and plying them with his tongue to demand entry. She didn't resist. Her lips parted and her tongue came out to meet his as his hands reached between them to cup her tits. He squeezed harder than he had intended, but Emma seemed to enjoy it, moaning against his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing closer and trapping his hands against her breasts.

Emma had never been more aroused; she had never been like this with Adam, nor the handful of partners she had prior to that relationship. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire, both soothed and stoked with every touch.

Marco released her lips and shifted back slightly. “Lay down, Emma. I want you to open your legs for me so I can see your pussy.” A blush spread across her cheeks, but Emma didn't hesitate. She spread out right there on the deck, knees bent, and opened her legs wide--but she didn't stop there. As Marco knelt down in between her legs, Emma moved one hand to her glistening cunt, gently running her fingers back and forth along her slit. She spread her lips and slid in first one finger, then two, slowly moving them in and out. All the while she watched Marco's response, his eyes locked onto her pussy as his hands clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. She increased her speed, her fingers moving faster and faster.

Marco placed a hand on Emma's to stop her movements and withdraw her fingers. He guided her hand to her mouth, “Taste yourself,” he directed. Emma licked along the length of one finger--tentatively at first--then sucked it into her mouth, enjoying the taste more than she could ever have imagined. When she was finished with one finger, she removed it from her mouth and offered the other soaked finger to Marco. He already knew she would taste incredible, and he sucked her entire finger into his mouth swiftly. The taste only served to tease him; he wanted more. In one quick movement, he swooped down between her legs and delved into her, plunging his tongue in and out as deep as it could go. Her scent and taste were intoxicating; she was like a drug.

“Oh, God!” Emma cried out. She had never imagined that a tongue could feel this way. The few times Adam had gone down on her had never felt like this. The sensation of Marco's tongue deep inside her was driving her wild. It had only been minutes since her last orgasm, but already she could feel the pressure mounting. Marco's fingers moved to rub her clit as he tongue-fucked her pussy. It was enough to send her over the edge instantly; Emma's back arched and she screamed out his name as she began to cum, her inner walls pulsating with ecstasy.

As the spasms subsided, Marco removed his tongue and leaned back to admire the view. He wasn't finished tasting her just yet; in what seemed like a single movement, he laid back on the yacht's deck and pulled Emma on top with her bounty above his face. He didn't expect her to react so quickly; the moment she was on top of him, her head swooped down to take his cock in her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down, slowly at first, as she enjoyed the taste and smooth feel of his shaft. She began to suck faster and harder as she moved a hand down to cup his balls, tantalizing him even more. He groaned loudly in response, plunging his tongue back into her over and over again. He reigned himself in before he toppled over the edge. “Lay down for me again, Emma.” he whispered to her. “I want my cock deep inside of you.”

She climbed off quickly and before she was on her back, Marco was hovering above her. He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his own as the head of his cock pressed against her folds. Emma was so wet that she gave little resistance to his massive girth. He plunged inside her in one swift movement, filling her with every inch of his engorged cock. He stilled for a moment, giving her body time to adjust, and then he couldn't hold back anymore. He moved faster and faster, thrusting deeper into her pussy. It seemed the harder he fucked her, the more Emma loved it; first moaning and panting, and then breathlessly screaming his name over and over again as she writhed wildly beneath him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, moving her hips upward to meet his every thrust. He fucked her relentlessly, slamming his thickness deep inside her. “Oh, fuck. Marco--God, yes!” Emma was wild with pleasure. As he neared his own climax, she began to cum yet again, digging her fingers into his shoulders, screaming his name into the night, her walls tightly gripping his cock in rhythmic spasms. He couldn't hold back any longer as his orgasm jolted through his body, his shaft pulsing, spurting out a flood of his hot release. It took a full minute for the spasms to end, and he collapsed beside Emma, more satiated than he could ever remember.

Emma remained next to Marco, enjoying the rippling aftershocks of their evening. After a few moments, his breathing steadied and she could tell that he had drifted off to sleep. She extricated herself from her position and found her clothes silently. Before she left, she found a blanket on a nearby lounge chair and draped it over Marco, just in case he was still asleep when the sun came out. She tiptoed off the yacht and quietly made her way along the docks and back to the sidewalks that led to her summer house. She moved slowly, enjoying the languid feeling spreading throughout her body in the aftermath of the most amazing sex she'd ever had. She was half tempted to turn around and head back to the boat in hopes of a morning repeat of the night's adventure, but she was only looking for a little fun tonight--and she certainly had more than her fair share. And really, she was simply someone Marco picked up in a bar for a one night stand. And that one night is done; time to move on.

By the time she reached her rental's front porch, Emma was exhausted. She unlocked the door, climbed the stairs to her room robotically and collapsed onto her bed. Within seconds, she was fast asleep, dreaming of all the naughty things she'd done that night.