Rough Hard Fierce: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set (Chicago Underground #1-3)

His cock dipped low and slid into me. It was the same thing, being fucked from behind, the same cock, the same hole. But it was totally different, because he wasn’t riding me or pulling my hair or anything like that, but just rocking into me. It was all pleasure, his cock in me, his chest curved around my back. The only pain at all was the small bite of his fingers into my hips, anchoring me to the bed, but it was the sweetest hurt.

And, even sweeter, he began to talk to me, saying the love words he’d written with his body. “You’re beautiful, baby. I missed you. You make me crazy. Fuck, you’re so hot.”

My mind responded to his words with hope and love and pride, but all that was drowned out when the angle of his thrusts pointed down, pinging a certain place inside me. He sped up too, both his thrusts and his words. “Allie, Allie, fuck, you’re so hot and tight. Just for me. Yes, just me. Fuck.”

My mouth opened against the bedspread in a soundless cry. So close, so fucking close. His words tightened and wound, almost unintelligible, except I could hear my name and fuck in close succession. My ass canted back, begging for it. And then he said it.

“I love you.”

He froze, like he hadn’t meant to, like he’d surprised himself, but it was too late. I’d heard him, and I was coming. My body pulsed and shook, and I pushed, impaling myself on him to ride out my orgasm. That was too much, even for him, and he came with a strangled, wordless shout.

He wrapped his arms and legs around my body like a cocoon, with his cock still inside me. I couldn’t move, didn’t want to. We panted together, using up all the air, sharing it. We stayed that way for a long, long time, neither of us wanting to separate. Whenever it was, it would be too soon.

Only finally when I couldn’t breathe—I even let myself see spots—I shrugged at him, and he rolled off. But he grasped my hand, and I held his back. This was the part where I ran to the bathroom, crying, or maybe he did, but neither of us wanted that, so we held on tight.





Chapter Fourteen


Our breathing evened out, and I felt my mind drift into that space between awake and dreams. Something held me back from sleep—it was the fear that this was a dream after all. That I’d wake up, and he’d be gone. Nice sex, Allie. See you next month.

That wasn’t Colin, of course, but he might still leave. I had to be sure.

I squeezed slightly, just to see if he was awake. He tightened his hand on mine.

“I think we have to talk,” I said.

He tensed, his whole body did, with an air of expectancy, and then said on an exhale, “I’m sorry.”

Well, okay. He was sorry for leaving, that was fine. What I was more concerned with was whether he was coming home—

“I’m sorry I did this to you. You lost your job because of me. That was fucked-up, like you said, but it wasn’t supposed to—you were hurt. Almost raped, almost killed, because of me.”

I have an inkling that the man feels guilty as sin.

He blamed himself for all of that, everything. No wonder he was so stressed out. Next thing he’d be blaming himself for what happened with Andrew, since he wasn’t there to protect me from it.

“Christ, Colin. What an ego you have.”

“What?” He sounded strangled.

“You didn’t make your brother hire that guy; you protected me from him. It wasn’t your fault that the shit went down with the cops. It was just dirty cops and bad business and circumstance. You saved me from getting hurt and killed.”

He shook his head.

“And look, the Rick thing, you did that, and it was wrong. But I could have found another job. Or I could have borrowed money from Shelly or called my dad or a bunch of other things. I went to see you because I wanted you, and that was as good of an excuse as any to have you.”

I could see he wasn’t going to believe me, at least not for a long time. And that was okay, he could take his time, so long as he did it with me.

I sat up and faced him. “I love you. I want you to be with me. To live with me. I don’t want you to feel guilty, but if you do, at least stay with me. We’ll work it out together.”

“It can’t be that simple.” He said it so solemnly. My heart broke and put back together all in that moment for the boy who thought he couldn’t just love and be loved.

“It won’t be easy, maybe, but I want to be with you, and I think you want to be with me. You said you loved me. Did you mean it?”

“You know I did.”

A smiled played on my mouth. It couldn’t be held in. “Maybe so, but I want to hear you say it again.” I thought he’d refuse or maybe say it begrudgingly, but he sat up with me and looked me straight in the eye and said it.

“I love you.”

It was too much again, too much emotion, but I wasn’t going to run into the bathroom or away or anywhere. I turned into his arms where he held me safe. There was something to be said for being able to defend myself, but I liked it better that I didn’t have to.

As the night turned to early morning, I asked, “You are coming back with me, right?”

He nodded against the pillow.