By: Lexi Buchanan

Bad Boy Rockers #5

Chapter One


“Hmm.” My body hums with desire as Savannah slowly makes her way south. Her pebbled nipples drag across my chest and stomach as she moves lower.

Settled between my thighs, her breath teases the tip of my fully engorged cock while the silken strands of her curly, red hair fall like a curtain around her beautiful face. The soft strands tickle my lower belly, groin and thighs with every movement she makes.

Grabbing another pillow, I shove it behind my head to get a better view of her leaning over me. My dick surges with arousal when my eyes fix on her curvy ass sticking up in the air while she’s on her knees…and I feel the first lick of her tongue as she swirls it around the bulging head. Her moan of pleasure surrounds me as my fists tighten around the sheet I’ve been clutching since she decided to move lower.

Her warm, wet mouth starts to slowly take me inside. My eyes close with the pleasure I’m fighting at being surrounded by her warmth…and then…a buzzing sound intrudes…it won’t fucking stop…

My eyes snap open.

What the fuck!

I grab my cell from the side table and stop the alarm before dropping it to the bed.

Looking around my bedroom, I realize I’m alone.

Another fucking dream.

If only the raging hard-on that I have going on was a dream. The throb is real. The pre-cum coating my stomach is real. Savannah being here with me was the dream.

Resting back on the bed with my fists still clutching the sheet, I try to get my breathing under control and focus on everything but the dream so my dick deflates.

It’s been so fucking long since I’ve had a woman that my body has started to conjure one up in my dreams, seeping out into wakefulness.


I hate my conscience right now because it’s the truth. I am a liar.

I’ve been obsessed with Savannah Devereux since the day we met. Her petite, curvy body had me taking a second look, while her young, innocent face captivated me. The sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones draws my attention every time I see her and makes me want to hold her still while I taste every freckle. They remind me of cinnamon sugar shimmering on a plate. Her plump lips, with their natural pink tint are made for kissing, although I’ll admit I’ve imagined them on another part of my body more than once—this morning being one of those times. I’ve also lost count of how many times my hands have twitched to reach out to caress her curves.


Thinking about Savannah isn’t helping the discomfort in my groin. No matter how many times I’ve been tempted to self-pleasure with Savannah in my thoughts, I haven’t. Nothing could ever compare to the woman herself.

Which is why my last date—what was her name again…Robyn—didn’t go so well. She’d expected more when I dropped her back at her house, but what she’d gotten was a simple peck on the cheek.

My infatuation has to stop. I’m thirty-six. I’m not eighteen with a body full of raging hormones. Well, maybe I do have the hormones, but fuck, anyone with twenty-twenty vision would have an obsession with Savannah.

My brows pull into a tight line at the thought. She’s mine to obsess over, not some other bastard’s.

But she is someone else’s.

That thought doesn’t sit well with me. Since I discovered that she was engaged, I’ve tried to divert my thoughts, but I can’t after seeing who she’s engaged to. Her reaction to him sets off alarms in my head.

He looks possessive where Savannah looks unhappy. She always seems relieved to be away from him whenever he’s dropped her off at the field.

Whenever I mention him she changes the subject, so I eventually took the hint and now keep quiet about that part of her life. It’s like a ball of fire in the gut knowing she has a man in her life—a man who makes love to her—a man whose hands touch my woman.

“Fuck,” I roar, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

I need to fucking stop. I’ve tried to over the past twelve months, but I find that I can’t and it’s only getting worse.

At first, I tried to tell myself it was the lack of female company that had me obsessing over her. Being alone for over five years put these thoughts in my head, but in the end, I realized it’s a lot more.

When she’s caught off guard, the heat in her eyes that she directs toward me causes a weakness in my legs. Once or twice I’ve even stumbled on my prosthesis when her eyes have been on me.

Savannah makes me crave the things that I gave up on when I lost my lower leg in the line of duty. For years after my life as I’d known it ceased to exist. I was in a very dark place—one that I wouldn’t have wanted any woman to see, or my family for that matter. In the end, it was my brother, Ryder, who realized I needed a lot more help than what I was getting. Because of him, I stopped wanting to give up on life and started wanting to live again. It wasn’t long after that when my parents got on my ass about my shit. They were tired of watching me giving up, and with the help of them and my brother, we carved out the life I have today—a life I never expected to have after everything happened.

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