That one word has never meant so much.
Ballet was my life, but after getting injured, that dream faded. I still needed fast money, so I sucked up my pride and decided to strip.
Clubs could use a virgin stripper, right?
But from the moment I saw Cole Savage, owner of the strip club I was trying to get in to, all rational thought left me.
He was dark and dangerous, and his personality screamed arrogance.
I wanted him, and by the way he looked at me, I knew he wanted me as well.
But I should keep it strictly business. That’s what I told myself anyway.
From the moment I first saw Jana, I wanted her. She needed a job at my club, but the possessive side of me rose up, demanding she was only mine. I might have just met her, but I was already so damn territorial of her.
If she wanted a job, I’d give her one, but she’d be keeping her clothes on.
I’d been celibate for years, but it was time to change that with her..
Jana would soon realize what it meant to be mine.
Warning: This is a short story featuring an over-the-top possessive hero who makes no secret that the heroine is his. It’s got dirty dancing, raunchy scenes, but is safe and has the Happily Ever After that comes with reading a Real Man story.
For the last two years Lachlan has been my personal bodyguard. Although I don’t feel in danger and don’t need someone constantly watching me, because it’s Lachlan, I can’t help but feel safe.
I love him.
He is big and strong, with training that makes him deadly. Anyone who is stupid enough to cross him learns that swiftly.
But I’m too afraid to tell him how much I want him. I’m too afraid to tell him that I crave him.
I was hired to be her bodyguard, to make sure she was safe because her father is a senator. But even if her father hadn’t hired me, I wouldn’t have been able to leave her alone.
I love her, want her as mine, and I need to show Layla that she was meant for me.
I need to show her that if anyone looks at her, speaks to her, or thinks they have a right to touch her, I’ll lay them out and not think twice.
She is my world, and no one but me will have her.
I’m done waiting. It’s time I make Layla mine.
Warning: Have a neck brace on hand because this story will give you whiplash.. It’s short and to the point, but that’s how we like them. It’s not lacking in the heat department, has an over-the-top alpha hero, and a sweet virgin heroine. No worries, though; you get a safe read with a Happily Ever After and some baby making in the process.
Being bad never felt so good.
I’d been called bad, dangerous … a criminal. And I didn’t deny it. Everyone knew it, especially the one woman I wanted but couldn’t have.
I should’ve stayed away, should’ve left her alone. Jessa was the daughter of my business partner, too young for me, too innocent.
But I wanted her in the worst of ways, and no amount of self-control could keep me from her.
I wanted to claim every part of her, make her know what it was like to have a real man between her thighs.
And I’d have her.
He was older than me, dangerous, masculine in the best of ways. I saw how he watched me, the looks he gave me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
Rye wanted me, even if he’d never do anything about it.
I was just the virgin daughter of his business partner, not someone he’d ever get involved with. But that didn’t stop me from lusting after him, from picturing his big body over mine, his hands touching me until I cried out for more.
But I was tired of waiting. I would make the first move, and damn the consequences.
Warning: The hero of this story might seem like the “bad guy,” but no fears because it’s a safe read, there isn’t any OW drama, and he only has eyes for one woman. It’s a hot and dirty story, short and to the point, and exactly what you’ve come to expect in the Real Man series.
Truth was I wanted her to know that she was mine, that I would destroy anything or anyone who tried to tell me differently. Being locked away these last ten years, even though it was my own doing, had made me hardened. It had changed me, made me the beast everyone already thought I was.
Instinct controlled me and I found myself moving closer to her. She moved a step back, maybe slightly afraid, maybe because she didn’t know what I had planned. But this primal need was dictating what I did, propelling me forward until I wasn’t myself. And then I was right in front of her. I pulled her close to me and she gasped. I loved that sound, and wanted to hear her make it again when I was balls deep in her.
Emotions slammed into me, and I knew this wasn’t about me wanting to control her, to own her. I wanted her as mine, no doubt about it, but I wanted her to know that I was hers too. This was fast, fucking crazy in all senses of the word. But it was real, and I hadn’t felt anything like this before.
I should have been gentle, taken my time, made this a slow burn, but I couldn’t. I was too selfish for her, too primed for a taste of Britta.
And I’d have her, every fucking part of her.
Wren Reynolds lived a nomad’s life with her hippie parents until a tragedy stole everything from her. Starting over in the middle of nowhere she dreamt of finding peace again. When the local lumberhunk rides in on his white horse to save her from herself, her dreams begin to change, and she starts to believe in fairy tales again.
But, fate had different ideas, and an incarceration that saves her, but sends Flint away changes everything. Can these two find their way back or will the real world have its way, and end their happily ever after before it has its chance to begin?
Author’s Note: The scent of pines and sex will have you swooning for this match made in backwoods heaven. One hunky lumberjack who’s not touched a woman in years finds his one and only, in this sweet, smutty novel in the CUT series. All standalone stories sure to have you dreaming of flannel and wishing for a piece of hard wood all your own.
Much more likely than actual alien abduction.
Significantly more likely than impending forced nuptials with a giant primitive alien whose society never evolved a sense of humor.
But life in a horny space-barbarian’s cave isn’t all bad…
Did I mention that he vibrates?
I clenched my now working fist. Not that I itched to fight a magical warrior but I wasn’t helpless. Who escaped from Alien people smugglers? Who led a hundred woman to freedom? Who now risked her life on the planet of scorching heat, to make sure they stayed safe? “I’m perfectly capable.”
“Knowing wife is capable.” His brow rippled.
My gaze snapped up to his.
His fingers tightened just a little around mine. Not much, but enough. Enough for my muscles to seize, for my body to know—he could grind me to a pulp without even exerting an effort. He didn’t need to issue a single statement about his strength.
“This not mean capable, not capable. This not mean worthy, not worthy.” He opened his hand, and matched my palm against his. “This mean safe.”
Something popped in my chest like a jack-in-the-box.
My fingertips barely reached the start of his fingers. The difference as startling as a babies hand in a bears paw. How much smaller, more delicate than him I was.
The image made my whole body feel light.
He might not understand some things, but he’d just explained something else in a way that sent butterflies off in my belly.
“This mean different responsibility.” He placed his other hand on top of mine. “Tend. Protect. Cherish.”
Shivers rolled over me. Wow. Those words repeated again in my head. Tend. Protect. Cherish. Like vows. Yet, as much as he liked to call me wife, we’d made no promises.
Hell, I hadn’t agreed to anything, let alone marriage.
And yet this was as close as I’d ever come to believing that someone meant their promises.
I placed my other hand on top of his, and touched his over-sized knuckles.
He was bigger than big, and stronger than strong by human definition.
And yet so gentle with me.
“How make wife very angry?” He stared at me, close and intense and way up in my personal space.
“How?” Heat flushed in my cheeks. “You said something very offensive.”
I slid my hands free, not quite able to keep looking him in the face. “It’s rude to ask a human woman you are attempting to…” I coughed, searching for the word to describe our unusual relationship. “…court, if she wants anal—” I cleared my throat again. “—back passage sex.”
“Oh.” He remained studying me, gaze dropping down to my lap where I just knew he was thinking about whether or not my asshole were fuckable. “Human not make mate in back passage?”
“No.” Holy crap. Explaining anal to a horny alien. Thing that can never happen item number eight-hundred-and-sixty-nine. “I mean, it’s not for procreation but some people do it for fun.”
“If fun, why offense?”
Oh, boy. I rubbed my cheeks. “It’s just rude, Thor. Very rude.”
His frown wrinkled. “If not asking, how husband know human wife want make mating fun?”
“Because…” I exhaled. “Human marriage generally follows a period of courtship.” I squeezed the blanket around me at the reminder of what was actually going on here. In this situation which was very much not dating, honeymooning, or any other form of human romance. “Human men don’t just snatch woman and keep them captive in their cave, they court them. They earn their affection, they get to know their desires and preferences, and they attain their confidences so that those kinds of conversations can be comfortable and appropriate.”
He tilted back, but all his attention remained glued on me.
“You have not done any of those things.” I pointed my index finger at him. “You have not earned what is meant to be earned. You are trying to steal what is meant to be given.”
His eyes widened. Didn’t he like that? Good. I liked it even less.
“So when you ask me if I think you are without honor, yes, Thor, I think you are completely without honor.”
He flinched—actually flinched. The giant indestructible warrior that he was.
My chest heaved. “Where I am from, taking what is only mine to give, is the greatest dishonor.” I poked my finger right into his chest. “The biggest shame.”
I almost felt guilty for the look on his face, but then I was the one having to explain consent to my would be forced-husband.
“Punishable by law and a very serious crime.”
He remained frozen, staring at me for so long, I wasn’t sure if my little explanation was giving his primal mind an aneurysm.
Then he leaned in again. “Is crime, shame, and dishonor, because not complete human courtship ritual?”
I let out a long breath that made my body want to collapse in on itself. Something about the way he phrased that made it clear that he didn’t get it, get it. Not the important bits. Like the consent is critical part.
I rubbed my forehead, then froze. Maybe he didn’t need to actually understand.
Maybe he only kind-of needed to understand.
“Yes…” I breathed in again. “It is essential to humans that the very important courtship ritual take place before mating.”
He straightened, and looked at me a long while. “Must knowing this wife—is not Baratican practice to observe wife mating custom.”
Clearly… If the instantaneous mating attempts were anything to go by, the Baratican practice was to not wait long enough to find out.
“However, sometime when can not barter for wife, or war not desirable in taking wife, Baratican will preform custom requirements.” He slid off the bed. “Has been done before.”
“And you would do that?” I sat straighter. “You would observe the human courtship ritual?”
“Will consider.” He collected his loin cloth.
A thousand tiny muscles un-cleanched in my chest.
“Already taking the Kakaki juice to subdue mating rage-lust, for protect wife in sickness not fit for mating.”
No wonder he’d seemed so aggressive—rage-lust. Geez.
I tucked the blanket tighter under my arms. But, this was him with a libido suppressant? What the sweet-baby-Jesus was he going to be like when he stopped taking it?
My tongue scraped the roof of my mouth.
He stood, shoulders back, pecs out, abs firm as a freaking heavy-duty-washboard. Had he always been this Adonis with a side of Jason Momoa?
I shook my head to clear it.
“Explaining ritual.” He drew his hands behind his back, his stance so warrior it was all I could do not to snort. Where was his cape now? A cape would be perfect. But A red cape. And his helmet. His GIANT hammer.
“Umm.” I blew out. The ritual. God damn. If I’d paid more attention to medieval folklore I might’ve been able to ace this bluff. “The courtship ritual is about demonstrating affection.”
His loincloth twitched. His smirk twisted.
After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fuelled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge.
She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.
Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria.
A Real Man Limited Edition Box Set. (includes never before published bonus content)
Books included in set:
Lumberjack bonus holiday chapter (previously published Box Set Volume Two)
Virgin holiday bonus chapter (previously published Box Set Volume Two)
Baby Fever bonus holiday chapter (previously published Box Set Volume Two)
Experienced bonus holiday chapter (previously published Box Set Volume Two)
Roommate bonus holiday chapter (previously published Box Set Volume Two)
Arrogant bonus holiday chapter (previously published Box Set Volume Two)
Feral bonus chapter
Dirty bonus chapter
Viking bonus chapter
Blacksmith bonus chapter
Brutal bonus chapter
Kilt Me bonus chapter
Blacksmith (A Real Man, 10)
The side of the house stopped our retreat. He shifted so I was now facing the wall. I liked the roughness on my back, the feeling of being helpless. He groaned, this rough, almost primal sound that had my pussy becoming so wet, my nipples so hard. I opened for him, sucked his tongue into my mouth, showing him exactly where I wanted this to go. If not for the alcohol running through my veins, I wouldn’t have ever been so bold or wanton, but right now this felt like the most natural thing.
But he stepped away far too soon, and I was left feeling bereft, like a piece of me was missing. I touched my lips, the tingling and warmth that covered them reaching the very recesses of my cells.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “You don’t want me?” My cheeks heated at the idea that maybe he didn’t, despite the vibes I got from him and the fact he’d invited me out. I also blamed the alcohol for me opening my mouth and even asking.
But Deacon had his body pressed to mine a second later. I gasped from the contact, from the feeling of his very massive, apparent erection currently digging into my belly.
“Does that feel like I don’t want you?” He thrust against me, and my mouth go slack. “Does this feel like I don’t want to take you right up against the house, not giving a shit who saw?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just closed my mouth. He cupped my cheek, smoothing his finger along my skin and sending shock waves through me.
“Tell me if this doesn’t feel like I want you.” He continued to smooth that digit along my face, over my lip, down to my pulse, which beat erratically.
“It feels like you want me.”
He growled out low, a sound that was so feral, so delicious. “Yeah, I want you really fucking badly, Maddie, but you’ve been drinking, and I’m not going to cross that line.” He stepped back then, gave my pulse one last smooth over with his finger, and dropped his hand to his side. “But we aren’t going there. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”
I nodded. Not only was he the manliest man I’d ever met, he was also a gentleman. I turned and unlocked the front door, stepped inside, and watched him. He’d waited until I was in the house before he left and went back to his SUV. I was still standing there long after he’d driven off, knowing that I’d fallen hard for Deacon, and that there was no getting up from it.
How about another taste?
I became even more aware of Axel sitting beside me. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, his chest rising and falling just a little faster, a little harder than normal. Was this having the same effect on him as it was on me?
But I kept my focus on the TV. The couple started kissing, the woman’s moans exaggerated, erotic. And then soon they were naked, but of course we just saw the woman’s breasts. The couple started moving in a very sexual way, and I felt my face heat. I was a virgin, but I’d seen porno, knew all that went down in that category. But I was watching this with Axel, and that made me very aware of my surroundings, of how my body was reacting.
I found myself looking at Axel. His body looked hard, not in the normal, powerful way but in the way that told me he was tense. And then he turned his head and stared right at me. Our eyes locked, the heat in the room seemed to increase, and I felt beads of perspiration dotting my skin.
My body was reacting in a way only Axel could make it. My lips felt too dry, my tongue swollen. The sound of the couple having sex seemed to be amplified in the room, and although it was a cheesy movie, the sex scene something on late-night cable, I was so turned on.
I was wet, my panties damp, my body ready for Axel.
I felt my chest rising and falling, the chemistry clearly moving between us, making me think maybe he felt the same way for me. Surely friends didn’t react this way just because some sex scene was on the TV.
And when I saw Axel look down at my mouth, I found myself lowering my gaze to his lap. There, pressing against his jeans, was a massive erection. My throat tightened, every part of me tingled, and I found myself opening my mouth, about to say what I had wanted to for so long.
But the words lodged in my throat.
Is this really happening? Is this a moment between us?
The longer we stared at each other, the more the blood rushed through my veins, the pressure in my body becoming almost unbearable.
Before I said anything, Axel was up and leaving the room. I sat there, staring at the fading sex scene, hearing him in the kitchen getting something to drink.
I stood, but he was back before I could even take a step. He held a beer out to me, the bottle chilled.
He looked tense, like he wanted to say something. Maybe this had been in my head, the chemistry I felt, the moment I thought we had shared.
“I’m good,” he said, his jaw tight. He sat on the couch again, took a long swig of the beer, and stared at the movie.
I wasn’t going to wait, wasn’t going to let my fear override this. I had to start living for today, for the future.
One more taste?
It had been a long time since I’d been with a woman—years, in fact—and never had I felt this kind of possessiveness and need for a female. I wanted Molly like a fiend. I needed her like I needed tae breathe.
And as fast as this all seemed tae be happening, I couldn’t have slowed things down if I even wanted tae.
I was so fooking hard, stiff as a lead pipe. I should have jerked off in the shower, but I kne’ it wouldn’t have helped. But even knowing that, I reached down and palmed myself. Of course I couldn’t help but picture Moly and what I wanted tae do tae her.
Her glorious naked body on my bed—or hell, bent over a desk. Yeah, I could see her ready and willing for me, primed and soaked. I went back to picturing her on my bed, her legs spread, her pussy on display. Her fire-colored hair would spill over my pillow. She’d smell like me.
She’d watch me quietly, waiting for me to tell her what to do. We’d both want it though. And that’s when I’d tell her to spread those pretty pussy lips for me.
And she’d do so instantly.
I closed my eyes and really put myself in the fantasy. I groaned as I felt pleasure shoot up my spine.
“Say you’re mine, lass.”
“I’m yours, Alastair.” Her flesh, so pink and wet, glistened under the dim lighting. She was so fooking ready for me. Only me. Her back was arched, and her breasts were thrust forward, the tips pink, hard. They begged for my mouth, for me to taste them, run my teeth and tongue along the stiff peaks.
But I couldn’t move. “Touch yourself for me, Molly lass.”
She obeyed so nicely as she brought one of her hands to her mouth and rubbed her fingers along the seam of her lips. Slowly, while still watching me, she sucked on one, then two fingers, mimicking the act of giving me head. In and out she moved the digits between her full, red lips.
When she removed them, a resounding pop filled the room and caused my cock tae jerk violently. She moved her fingers down tae her pussy, and I held my breath.
I watched as she played with her clit, rubbing the bud between the digits and making these little sounds in her throat. She was beautiful, and I’d be claiming that pussy like no other had before.
A harsh groan left me when she slid her fingers down her clit, circled her pussy hole, and then shoved them deep inside. I held my breath as she pumped the digits in and out. Seconds of torturous pleasure washed through me as I watched her.
Her high moan filled the room.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I all but tore off my clothes and went to her. She pulled her fingers out of her pussy and presented them to me. I greedily sucked those glistening digits intae my mouth, tasting her, getting drunk off the flavor on my tongue.
I let out a harsh sound as I came in my hand, my seed coating my fingers, my pleasure so fooking high I’d never touch the ground again. I opened my eyes, breathing out harshly, so damn needy for her even after I spent myself, that I kne’ being with Molly would be better than anything I’d ever experienced.
And I was done waiting.