A hard man to love a dar.., p.1

A Hard Man To Love (A Dark Alpha Romance) (Nice and Dirty Series Book 2), page 1

 

A Hard Man To Love (A Dark Alpha Romance) (Nice and Dirty Series Book 2)
 


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A Hard Man To Love (A Dark Alpha Romance) (Nice and Dirty Series Book 2)


  She teased and taunted him. Now, she will pay a stiff price...

  Rex Holden is fresh off a seven-year prison sentence. He finds a gig as a mechanic; tending to a fleet of cars for a wealthy family. Their youngest daughter, Ava Walsh, has just come home from boarding school. She's eager to tempt the new ex-con working for her Dad. But Rex isn’t like the boys at school. He’s all man. He sees what he wants and he takes it. Ava thought she was done with classes but schools back in session. Lesson one: Never tempt an Alpha.

  Please note: This is a sexy, safe, short story. It's also a stand alone, HEA. If you like getting dirty, you've come to the right place.

  “A Hard Man To Love”

  Nice & Dirty Series

  By- Lola StVil

  Copyright © 2019 by Lola StVil

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  CHAPTER ONE

  AVA

  Yes. I am home. I’m finally done with boarding school, and I have a full summer stretching out ahead of me before I go to college. I should be excited, looking forward to the possibilities the summer holds for me. But I’m bored with the party scene. I’m overdrinking champagne and breaking the rules. I want more, and now I’m eighteen, this summer feels like it’s full of possibilities.

  I know how my dad wants this summer to go. He wants me to relax a little, recharge, and be ready for NYU in the fall. And yes, I will have to toe the line to some extent and go easy on my dad. He has just gotten over me refusing to entertain going to Harvard and studying law.

  Yes, I’m part of a legacy. Ava Walsh, daughter of the formidable Maxwell Walsh, is an introduction that opens every door in the legal world. But it isn’t me. And now my dad has finally come around to the idea of me studying journalism, I have no intention in rocking the boat.

  Dad is a senior partner at one of Manhattan’s most successful corporate law firms; he barely has a moment to sleep, let alone to raise his daughter. If it came to it, he’d drop everything and be there for me, but the day-to-day stuff, I’m pretty much on my own. I guess that’s why I got shipped off to boarding school when Mom died. I was sent to Exeter Academy. Of course it was Exeter. They couldn’t be any further up Harvard’s ass.

  I soon found myself settling in. I was rich in a sea of rich kids. I walked the walk and talked the talk. But it got boring. Even breaking the rules got boring. Where was the meaning in any of it? It was all superficial nonsense, to be honest; I’m over most of it.

  I did have one thing to look forward to. Catching up with my best friend, Casey Hamilton. Casey’s dad has a job neither of us really understand, but her family’s fortune is old money. Her mom is a direct descendant of Rockefeller (yes, that Rockefeller). Casey and I were best friends all through kindergarten and elementary school, and even when I went to Exeter, we stayed close.

  It’s my first real day back home after getting in late last night, and I can’t wait for our boozy brunch. Yes, I know I said I’m over this life, but I still have a soft spot for a good boozy brunch. After all, brunch was the meal invented by bored housewives who wanted an excuse to wash their Xanax down with champagne. How can anyone hate that? And honestly, I’d eat at McDonald’s if it meant catching up with Casey (okay, okay maybe not McDonald’s, but I’d consider Burger King).

  I take a quick glance in the mirror. I’m wearing a chic, sleeveless blue Chanel dress and my brand-new Louboutin heels. Perfect. Although I might be becoming a little jaded with my world, there’s nothing wrong in looking good while I do it, right? I hurry down the stairs and catch my father as he leaves for work.

  “You’re having a late start, aren’t you?” I comment.

  “My apologies, boss.” He grins. “I’m not due in court for another hour, and I figured I’d get more peace and quiet to go over my strategy here than at the office. Have you got much planned for today?”

  “Brunch with Casey and then some shopping. There’s a party later, and I have nothing to wear.”

  He rolls his eyes.

  I shrug, and he shakes his head.

  “I have to run. Have fun,” he shouts as he dashes out of the door.

  A few moments later, I step outside the house. There’s a fleet of Dad’s vintage cars out. I vaguely remember him mentioning hiring some guy to get them back to working order. I pretty much switch off when he talks about vintage cars. They’re not exactly riveting, but the mechanic tending to the cars—Holy. Shit. He’s fucking gorgeous.

  He’s a monolith of hard, rippling muscles. His overpowering height, tanned skin, and chiseled face could make him a god. But his numerous tattoos tell me he’s as far from sainthood as a girl can get. He’s looking over the engine of one of my dad’s Rolls-Royces. He must feel my eyes on him. I should look away, but shit, I just can’t.

  He straightens up and looks in my direction. Our eyes meet. My nipples harden, and my pussy begins to pulsate.

  Seriously, Ava, all that from one stare?

  Um, yeah! But it’s not my fault. He has these piercing, steely gray eyes that cut right through me. They are intense, alluring, and cause a dull ache between my legs. But just beneath the surface, darkness lurks. He’d just as easily slice someone’s throat open as he would pull a girl close and kiss her. Something tells me he’s done both.

  I can’t stop looking at him. His toned abs and pecs call to me. I can’t help but think about how good it would feel to run my fingernails over them, maybe even bite them. My eyes move lower, and I imagine taking his cock in my hand, getting him primed. I can almost feel it ramming into me, showing me what it’s like to be claimed by a man instead of the boys I’ve been with. This guy is different—he’s wild, and only a breath away from releasing his inner beast.

  I imagine his greasy hands running over my body, making me dirty. I am so wet now that I can feel my panties sticking to me. My face is hot and I can barely catch my breath. I realize I’m still looking at the mechanic. I want to look away, but again, I fail.

  I feel as though he can see clean through my dress to the prize beneath it, and instead of feeling embarrassed, I feel empowered, like his gaze is making me strong, a warrior. I look back at his face. He looks about thirty. And that’s a good thing. I can have all the boys I want, but I’m done with boys. I want a real man. And I know now what I’ll be doing this summer. Him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  REX

  For seven years, I wasn’t Rex Holden. I was prisoner B54796. Talk about dehumanizing. But when I saw her waltz her sweet ass out of the house, my cock stiffened, and reaffirmed that yeah, I’m a fucking man. I straighten up from the engine I’m working on and drink her in. Her frame is small, but she fills out that dress like nothing I’ve seen before. Her dress clings to her, showing the curve of her hips perfectly.

  Her jacket sits across her breasts, but it doesn’t mask the fullness of them. I can practically feel them against my hands. Even better: in my mouth. Damn, I can almost feel them harden against my tongue. Her angelic face twisted in ecstasy as her ocean-blue eyes glaze over with lust. I’d latch on to her strawberry-blonde hair and yank it as I make her mine. Shit, she’s not just fuckable—she’s a fucking vision.

  Okay, Rex, chill the fuck out.

  I’m guessing this is Ava, Max’s youngest daughter. From what he’s told me, she’s the black sheep of the family. His other two daughters graduated law schoo
l, married well, and do what is expected of them. Ava, however, is following her own path, and looking at her now, I’d follow her down any damned path she wants to take.

  I can feel my cock hardening even more just from looking at her.

  I imagine her walking over here. We don’t speak. I grab her, kiss her roughly, and make her squirm against me. I spin her around and bend her over the hood of the car. I rip away the little thong she’s wearing and plunge into her sweet pussy, claiming her. She would scream my name, begging me to never stop fucking her. And I would oblige.

  I can feel her eyes all over my body. I should probably make some effort to hide my hard-on, but she doesn’t seem worried about it. She seems drawn to it. She makes a little “oh” sound when she sees me, like she’s already primed and ready for me to make her come.

  Fucking hell, could I make her come. I could make her come so hard, and so many times, she wouldn’t know who she was anymore. All she would know is that she belongs to me. That’s all she needs to know.

  My balls ache for her. My cock is so hard it’s painful as it presses against my jeans, trying and failing to escape its bounds and plunge into Ava’s pussy.

  I catch myself. What the fuck am I thinking? I can’t go there. No matter how much I might want to. And I really fucking want to. Max gave me a chance when no one else would, and I can’t repay him this way.

  She’s still looking at me, and the way she runs her tongue over her lips almost makes me come on the spot. That tongue tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing. She wants me. It’s going to be fucking hard to stay away from her, especially if she keeps doing that licking thing, but I have to.

  I force myself to look away from her. It’s silent for a moment, and then I hear the clicking sound of her heels as she walks away. I risk glancing at her again. There’s no harm in looking as long as I don’t touch. Her hips sway, showing me her perfect ass tightening with each step. What I could do to that ass. I would spread her cheeks wide, making her gasp as I reached through her legs and found her throbbing clit with my fingers. I would make her beg me for more as she drenched my arm in her juices.

  Stop it. She’s dangerous. She’s too young to know what she’s doing to you. And yet the way she looks pointedly at my cock, the way she sways her hips as she walks. Oh, she might be young, but that girl knows exactly what she’s doing. And that’s what makes her so dangerous.

  She moves out of sight through the gates, and I can breathe again. My hard-on is going nowhere, though, and I know there’s only one way to get it to go down. Well, only one way that won’t get me fired. I hurry to my own car and, after double-checking I can’t be seen, I jerk off right there in the driver’s seat.

  With each stroke, I picture her taking my cock into her waiting mouth. I tug at my shaft and think about her head bobbing up and down as she tries to take all of me in her mouth. Fuck! I come way too hard and way too fast.

  Afterward, I head back to work, telling myself to stop thinking about Ava. I feel like I’ve already betrayed Max by thinking of Ava as I jerked off. But it’s just a fantasy. It’s not like I’m going to actually do anything with her.

  No. I can’t. See, when I got out of prison, my life was as good as over. I went in as twenty-three-year-old with my whole life ahead of me, a qualified mechanic ready to start my own business. I came out a thirty-year-old with a record no one in Manhattan would touch.

  I was ready to pack up and leave once my time in the halfway house was done, with no idea of where I would go or what I would do. It was starting to look like my only option was to either flip burgers for minimum wage, or find some illegal means of making money. Neither appealed to me.

  And then Max reached out to me. He told me who he was, and I vaguely remembered him from when I was a kid. He explained that he and my dad went way back, and when my dad was killed in a car accident, he’d made an effort to look out for me. He said he lost track of me for a while, but he didn’t elaborate, and I had learned in prison not to ask questions.

  He went on to offer me a job. I refused at first. I didn’t need charity from an old friend of my father’s. I had nothing in the world, but I did have my pride. But he convinced me to meet him at his place, and if I still didn’t want the job, there would be no hard feelings.

  I figured why not? I was due to leave the halfway house at the end of the week, and I had nowhere to go except out of town, so sure. It would fill in some time, and it would keep my probation officer off my back if she thought I was seeking employment.

  I soon realized this was more than Max handing out charity. He had a fleet of vintage cars, real authentic beauties that needed a whole lot of TLC. And he wanted me to restore them to their former glory. He told me money was no object and he wanted them all in full working condition using only original parts. It was a job for a specialist, and Max treated me like one rather than like a criminal.

  I took the job on the spot. When I was released from the halfway house, Max found out I was sleeping in my car until my first paycheck. He bought a small apartment in Queens with the sole purpose of renting it to me. I refused the discount he offered me. He was paying me a salary that fit the work, and that’s all I needed. So I pay him rent every month.

  That was six months ago, and Max was delighted when I got one of the cars back to working order. He gave me a huge bonus, but by then, it was no longer about the money. Max saved my life, and more importantly, he gave me back my self-worth. And I won’t repay him for that by fucking his daughter.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AVA

  I walk through the dining room. I have to admit that the Plaza isn’t quite as bad as I remembered it. I mean, it’s no Waldorf, but it’s nice. Elegant. It’s all pine-colored wooden accents and green, leafy ferns. Yes, it will do.

  My face breaks into a grin as I spot Casey standing up and waving to me across the dining room from a table by the window. I make my way over to her, and we hug.

  “You look fabulous, Ava,” she says.

  “As do you,” I reply.

  It’s our standard greeting, but Casey really does look fabulous. Her striking red hair hangs down her back in effortless-looking curls and the green shift blouse she wears over black pants really brings her eyes to life. She’s a natural beauty and knows how to work it.

  “Sit down,” Casey says. “I already ordered us some mimosas.”

  I do as I’m told, excited to be back with Casey. A sleek waiter appears seemingly out of thin air. Clearly, he was waiting for me to arrive. He nods to us both as he gives us our drinks.

  “Do you need a moment to peruse the menu?” he asks.

  “Yes, please,” I say.

  He nods again and disappears into the background, a trait the waiters in Manhattan seemed to learn at birth.

  “So? What have I missed?” I ask.

  “Oh, the usual,” Casey says. “Ashleigh and Lucille fighting over who is queen bee. Lucille opening her legs to anything that will have her. Oh, and …”

  She’s still talking, but my mind wandered the second she said “opening her legs.” I picture the hot mechanic again. I would open more than my legs for that hot piece of ass.

  “Ava? Am I boring you already?” Casey asks.

  “What? No,” I say, feeling myself blush at my thoughts.

  Thoughts of the mechanic eating me, fucking me. I shift slightly, trying to ease the pressure on my throbbing clit.

  “You’re blushing,” Casey says. “Oh my God. You like him too, don’t you?”

  How could she know? Obviously, she doesn’t. She’s talking about something else. Something I missed while my mind was in heaven.

  “Like who?” I ask.

  “Jeez, keep up.” Casey laughs. “Matt. I was just saying he’s totally into you, and if the rumors are true, he’s finally going to ask you out at Belinda’s party. You are going to that, right?”

  “Matt’s been into me since, like, fourth grade,” I say, waving my hand. “Casey, I’m done with boys
. I want a real man.”

  Casey snorts. “I think you’d best slow down on those mimosas. Have you heard yourself?”

  “No,” I say. “I’m serious, Casey. I met someone.”

  “Tell me everything,” she demands.

  I smile. I won’t be telling her everything. Like how I’m still wet just thinking about him.

  “Well, ‘met’ might be a stretch. It’s more like I saw him. But fucking hell, Case, he’s the hottest guy I ever saw. All abs and pecs and tan, but he’s not like the guys around here. You know, all pompous and thinking they’re the shit. He’s different. Rougher. But, like, in a good way.”

  I look around to make sure no one is listening to us. They’re not. Everyone is more concerned with their own hot gossip.

  “He looks like he’d know how to treat a girl, if you catch my drift.”

  Casey laughs. “I always catch your drift. So who is he, then?”

  “My dad’s mechanic.”

  “A mechanic? You mean like staff?”

  “God, Casey, it’s not the fifties, you know,” I say.

  “I know, but you want someone who knows how to treat a girl outside of the bedroom too.”

  “Why? I have my own money. I’m not interested in the scene like you are. I just have to have him. I swear, if you’d seen the way he looked at me this morning, you’d get it. It was like he was fucking me with his eyes.”

  “Wait. You don’t mean Rex Holden, do you?” Casey asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t exactly march over there and demand his name.”

  “Thirty. Tall. Dark. Sexy as sin. No doubt poking about in your dad’s prized collection,” she says.

  “That’s him. You know him?”

  “Not really. I know of him,” she says. “Stay away from him, Ava. He’s bad news.”

  “All of the hot ones are.”

  “No,” she says. The laughter and teasing from earlier are gone. “I’m serious, Ava. He’s not bad news as in he’ll break your heart. He’s bad news as in run screaming from him. I still can’t believe your dad hired him.”

 
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