Bad Boys Are So Good With Their Hands PDF
John is a bad boy. He's too handsome, too smart, and way too good in bed. Mona won't admit she likes him, especially not while he's dating her roommate Jessica. If only she hadn't seen them having sex. Now she can't stop thinking about it! When Jessica decides to break up with John, she begs Mona to do it for her. Alone with this horny beast, will Mona allow John to seduce her? ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~...

Veronica Sloan - Bad Boys Are So Good With Their Hands

Bad Boys Are So Good With Their Hands

Veronica Sloan

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John is a bad boy. He's too handsome, too smart, and way too good in bed. Mona won't admit she likes him, especially not while he's dating her roommate Jessica. If only she hadn't seen them having sex. Now she can't stop thinking about it! When Jessica decides to break up with John, she begs Mona to do it for her. Alone with this horny beast, will Mona allow John to seduce her? ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ "Are you alright?" he asked. I shook my head. I wiped at my nose desperately, shutting my eyes against the new gush of wet that threatened to pop out my eyeballs. I felt his arms around me, I felt his lips in my neck. I clawed at him, finding strength in my arms once again. "Hit me," he whispered in my ear. I brought my fist down on his shoulder. I brought the other into his hard shoulder blade. The bone bit into the heel of my palm and I cried out, but that didn't stop me. He squeezed me to him even tighter and I struggled in his grip, raining blows on his arms and his shoulders. It was like all the years of frustrated longing were being ripped from me, squeezed out by his thick arms around my quivering body. And then his mouth was on mine again, hot and yearning. I sobbed into his mouth, guilty for wanting, desperate for release. I'd seen him that night, and in that misbegotten glance he'd learned more about me than I would have ever told him. "I don't know how," I whispered into his mouth. His thumbs skated across my cheeks as I dug my fingers into his neck. "My heart can't take it anymore. I can't be sexy." "You don't have to be sexy," he whispered back. "Just accept that I want you." I blinked up at him through my tears. His mouth, so quick to smirk, was now so earnest. The fire blazed inside me, but I still felt bad. "It's wrong," I whispered. "She had you first." "So make a mistake," he said. His fingers plunged into the muscles that surrounded my spine, biting and pulling like dogs at play. It arched my neck, and when they roved lower it sent flares of purple fire spinning around my loins. "Let me tempt you." It felt so good to be squeezed in his arms. "Tempt me?" "You can say I took you." His teeth bit into my earlobe. "That I forced you." The words rippled to my core. "F-forced me?" Fingers pushed under the elastic in my sweats. Fingertips on the swell of my ass. I inhaled sharply. "You came here..." he murmured. His nose pushed my chin aside and his teeth bit into my neck. "You told me what you were supposed to..." A thousand strings pulled taut between my legs when he seized my thigh. "And I took out my frustrated passion on your soft and reluctant body..." Hand on my center, tongue in my ear, his breath streaming down my throat. I screamed out my approval. "Oh my God!" I gasped. "Does that feel wrong?" "A little wrong," I whimpered. "Are you afraid of me?" "Yes." "Do you want it now?" "Yes!"

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