Submission Specialist
Ada Scott
(Still a Bad Boy #2)
Publication date: February 26th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense
Instead of Prince Charming, I got Him.
Skylar
I promised I’d save myself for my wedding night.
Of course, I didn’t know it was going to be a fake marriage to a heavyweight MMA fighter. I couldn’t have known how good it would feel to be pinned under all those muscles and tattoos, squirming, panting, and even whimpering in ecstasy.
None of us knew how deeply he was involved with the mafia.
When he disrespects them, they think they can use me to punish him.
They’re wrong.
He’s a tank in human form.
And he’s coming for me.
Austin
Men tap out inside the ring, women surrender themselves outside of it. That’s always been my specialty.
I chose Skylar because she was so innocent. A good girl like her would help sell my reformed image to the public. To corrupt her and leave her ruined for all other men would be my hottest conquest yet.
But I found more in Skylar than that. Who’d have thought that the first woman I wanted to lay more than once would be my wife?
Now they think they can take away what is mine?
Even if I have to kill every last member of the Bertolini Crime Family…
I’m coming for her.
EXCERPT:
I felt like I was sitting inside my own
head watching a movie play out as I dropped the remains of my apple in the
trash and headed towards the Tier-1 fighters’ area. Uncle Malcolm wasn’t here
to show me what to do. All I had was less than a year of study and a general
appreciation of massages to rely on. It would have to do.
The Tier-1 wing had a guard at the
door who looked mean enough to actually fight for NHBFC, but he let me through
when he saw my uniform and heard that Gordon had sent me at Henry’s request.
The hallway behind said door was just as chaotic as the ones I’d just left, but
for a completely different reason.
With a smaller group of fighters
to look after, and an already smaller staff diminished by illness, it was the
MMA groupies making the most noise over here. Clusters of some of the most
stunning girls currently in the city hovered around their favorite fighters’
doors, giggling and talking loudly. It wasn’t official of course, but the guard
knew only to let in the best of the best.
The intensity of their beauty only
served to make me feel self-conscious, as I awkwardly nudged my way through
them to Austin’s door. Most of them were taller than me and the tops they wore
made absolutely sure to show off their breasts, at my eye-level, to maximum
effect.
They made me feel like a potato in
a diamond display case as I sheepishly knocked on the door. A few moments later
an older guy, Austin’s coach, snatched the door open.
“I told you bitches he isn’t ready
yet!”
“Uh, Gordon sent me? Henry said you-”
“Oh, right, yeah. He’s just in the
shower-”
The groupies in earshot all squealed
and started talking at once.
“You come in, he’ll be ready in a
second, I’m stepping out. Lock it behind you. Which of you girls wants to do me
a special favor so I put a good word in for you with The Killer?”
I squeezed past him as a chorus of
“I do!” “I will” rang out behind me. One of them said “How come the cleaning
lady gets to go in?” Another said, “I’ll deepthroat your-” just as the door
clicked shut.
Stepping into a Tier-1 dressing
room after working on the other side for so long was like stepping into
first-class on an airplane after only ever flying coach. They had all the same
stuff that we had, but instead of bare concrete, there was actual paint on the
walls, a permanent massage table, a brand new heavy punching bag hung from the
ceiling on a chain. Plenty of bells and whistles.
Steam poured out of a cracked-open
door and I could hear a shower running. I walked over and paused by the door,
before knocking even more tentatively than I had on the other one.
“Austin? I’m here for the-”
“I told Ross to tell you I wasn’t
ready!” he yelled out.
“Uh… no I’m not… uh… I work here?
Henry said you needed a massage?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll be right out.”
The sound of running water stopped
and I caught a flash of movement in the steamed-up mirror through the opening.
Quickly, I turned and faced the other way, ashamed at the flush of excitement
that came unbidden and made me bite my bottom lip without thinking about it.
After a couple minutes I felt the
waft of air as the door was pulled open behind me, and turned to face him.
Standing there, wearing only a towel, with beads of water dripping down his
neck and torso from his hair, was fan (and my) favorite, Austin “The Killer”
Aquila.
That perfectly sculpted body
looked like it was made from granite by an artist with an eye for sin, then
decorated with ink in designs that curled all over. His thick arms had contours
that drew my eyes up to his broad shoulders, and then sent them down across his
pecs and over each and every bump of his abs.
His lower abdominals formed lines
that narrowed as my eyes roamed lower… lower… lower until the visual ride was
abruptly cut off by the towel, which he held up by one hand.
I looked up and heard my jaw click
shut when our eyes met. I only hoped I’d closed my mouth before I drooled. If I
was looking at him like a piece of art, he was looking at me like a piece of
food, and it took all my willpower not to find a plate to climb on to.
All heavyweights have a certain
presence. It would be hard not to when you’re a tank that has briefly assumed
human form, but Austin had presence that almost seemed to make the air crackle
between us and around him. His eyes, they were looking at me in a way that
would give my dad a stroke. That brought me partway back to reality.
“Um… over there?” I pointed at the
massage table.
“You sure you work here?” he
asked.
“Yeah, I… I normally work in
Tier-2…”
Austin closed the distance between
us and leaned down towards me. My heart tried to jump up my throat to get a
better view out my mouth at all that solid muscle so close to me, and my ability to breathe be damned.
“Because, if you’re another girl
that stole a uniform just to get in here… well, I’ll have to do to you what I
did to her.”
A drop of water fell from his head
and landed on my ear, making me flinch. The scent of soap and the faint musk of
him filled my lungs as I took a deep
breath to offer whatever reassurance I could.
“I promise I work here,” I squeaked.
Author Bio:
Join me here for free downloads, discounts and news:
http://adascott.com/free-bad-boy-romance-download/
A former office drone, a former nurse, I now spend every waking moment doing what I love, creating and publishing these steamy stories about bad boys from the mafia, motorcycle clubs, and mma that make me, and hopefully you, weak at the knees! Anywhere a bad boy can be found, I'll be there taking notes and making it even sexier :)
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