His Brat: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

  His Brat

  A Dark Bad Boy Romance

  Isabella Starling

  Contents

  About the Author

  Prologue – Lola Grace

  1. Max

  2. Lola Grace

  3. Max

  4. Lola Grace

  5. Max

  6. Lola Grace

  7. Max

  8. Lola Grace

  9. Lola Grace

  10. Max

  11. Lola Grace

  12. Max

  13. Lola Grace

  14. Max

  15. Lola Grace

  16. Max

  17. Max

  18. Epilogue - Lola Grace

  Also by Isabella Starling

  Copyright © 2016 by Isabella Starling

  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.

  About the Author

  Isabella Starling started out as a voracious reader of dark romance, and has since evolved her love of reading into writing dark, twisted romantic tales. When not spending time with her boyfriend, two cats & a Labrador pup, she's chatting away to author friends and plotting her next release.

  Besides reading and writing, Isabella is a fan of photography and graphic design, and writes a beauty blog in her spare time. Obsessed with the next big project she wants to work on, she can always be found perusing the web for ideas and inspiration. Isabella's dream is to reach as many readers as possible and make them feel all kinds of emotions when they read her books - from fear to love and affection, just like the characters in her books.

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  www.isabellastarling.com

  authorisabellastarling@gmail.com

  Prologue – Lola Grace

  My hands are shaking as I step off the bus. I look skyward to see the tall building rising up before me, all glass and chrome. My fingers are trembling and my pupils are dilated as hell. I smooth my hair down, sweeping my soft blonde curls away from my face so that they drape down my back.

  I walk inside the building, my legs somehow carrying me through the doors even though I think they’ll buckle underneath me at any moment. As soon as the receptionist sees me, her face lights up with a smile. “Hello, Miss Lola Grace,” she greets me sweetly. “I was just about to head out for the evening. You’re here to see Mr. Rivers?”

  “Yes.” I nod timidly in response. “I was hoping to catch a ride home with him since I was already in town.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” she smiles, the picture of professionalism. Oh, if she only knew. Stepdaddy dearest is going to fucking kill me. “Could you tell him to lock up tonight?” she asks kindly. “I’ve stayed late working overtime, and I really need to get home to my son.”

  “Of course,” I beam. “I’d be happy to do that.”

  She passes me the ring of office keys and we exchange polite goodbyes before she heads down the stairwell located off the lobby that will take her down into the parking garage. Once I’m left alone, I bite at my bottom lip nervously, smudging my perfectly applied ruby-red lipstick. I lock up once she’s out of sight, making it so that no one else can enter the building tonight. The janitors must’ve finished up hours ago—it’s past 9 P.M. now and pitch dark outside.

  Leaving the lobby, I take the elevator up to Max’s office. I make sure to check that all the other offices on his floor are empty as I head down the hallway to his office, and I adjust my skirt and take in a deep breath before knocking on his door.

  “Come in.”

  His voice is strong, deep and dark, and just the sound of it echoing behind his door sends tingles up my spine. I open the door and step inside his office. The room is barely lit, a single lamp illuminating my stepfather’s handsome features. He’s sitting at his desk, his back turned to me as he files through a cabinet drawer.

  “Just leave the keys on my desk, Barbara,” he says distractedly. “I’ll be leaving in a little while. I can lock up.”

  The keys clatter as I place them on the desk. I wait for him to turn around, my palms sweating with nerves. I smooth down my dress, which I outgrew last year. I know perfectly well it’s too short for me now—and my mom keeps telling me in case I forget—but I couldn’t resist wearing it today. I still remember the last time I wore it in front of Max. The way his pupils dilated when I strolled into the kitchen. The way he cleared his throat and excused himself when I offered to make him some coffee.

  “Is there anything else, Barbara?” Max asks irritably, and I freeze on the spot.

  “Yes,” I finally manage to say. “Could stepdaddy dearest spare a second to talk to his little girl?”

  He turns around swiftly in his chair as soon as he hears my voice. His shoulders tense up, and I can see how on edge he is. When the chair rolls around and he’s facing me, I get lost in his handsome face, his dark, chiseled features, and the tattoos that peek out from behind the sleeves of his tailored dress shirt. His blazer has been carelessly discarded earlier this evening on the desk. I walk over to it, Max’s eyes following me suspiciously.

  “You really should fold this,” I tell him as I smooth the fabric with my fingers. “Or else it could get really creased.”

  “What are you doing here, Lola Grace?” he asks me softly, a hint of huskiness masked in his voice.

  I untie my trench coat, the one I stole from mom, and slip it off my shoulders and arms slowly and deliberately. I can hear his breathing hasten when I drape it carefully across the back of the chair opposite his desk, making sure to fold it neatly as I do.

  “I just wanted to thank you,” I say shyly, smoothing down my dress, my hands delicately sliding down the side and front of it with controlled measure. Max’s eyes follow every movement I make, lingering on the edge of my dress where the hem meets my thighs.

  I know we’re both already in trouble. I shouldn’t even be here, and his eyes definitely shouldn’t be filled with lustful hunger as he drinks me in. But I can’t bring myself to leave. I have to finish what I started—I got in trouble for a reason, and I’m not going to back down now.

  I don’t waste any more time. I walk over to his side of the desk, and when he turns to face me, a frown is crinkling his handsome face.

  “What do you want, Lola Grace?” he asks me, and he sounds so terribly tired. So exhausted it almost makes me regret doing this to him. “Please, just tell me.”

  “I want to tell you the truth,” I admit, but Max merely laughs and shakes his head in disbelief.

  “You want to tell me the truth,” he repeats, mocking me. “You didn’t tell the truth when we signed the legal contract stating that you did? You lied through gritted teeth?”

  I can hear how pissed off he is, though this admission shouldn’t come as any surprise to him considering that he’s the one who made me lie, anyway.

  “You know I did,” I tell him, my voice a low hiss as I stop in front of his desk chair. His legs are spread, but I’m too afraid to look down, too worried what I might see between his legs that could put me in even bigger trouble. More trouble than I’m already in, anyway…. “You told me to lie.”

  “Apart from that,” he groans, running a hand absentmindedly through his jet-black hair. “I know you lied about some parts of it, but you had to.”

  I sigh for what must be the umpteenth time in the past few weeks, and I look down at the floor, my thick black lashes obscuring my vision. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You always
had a choice,” he bites out. “And you did what you wanted, Lola Grace. That’s why we’ve all been dragged into this mess—because you did what you fucking wanted.”

  “I…” I start to say, my voice becoming smaller, weaker. My resolve is loosening, and I feel pathetic. I came here with every intention of telling him the truth, and now it seems like I’ll never gather up the courage. “I had my reasons.”

  “Reasons?” he scoffs. “What kind of reasons could an eighteen-year-old girl have to film a fucking pornographic movie? Is it Daddy issues, Lola Grace? Because your dad was a fucking saint from what I’ve heard. I can’t fucking handle this.”

  I blush deeply as Max tries to rise up from his chair. But something takes over me, and I push him back on the chair, gently but firmly. He shoots me a questioning look, and within a split second, the events of the past few weeks catch up with me.

  Filming the movie. Sucking dick, letting someone take me on film. Letting them fuck, suck and bite me, and enjoying it. Smiling into the camera as my innocence was stripped from me in a single day, in a few scenes, in one house, with two dicks.

  I filmed a pornographic movie and gave full consent. Of course, that’s not what my stepfather stated during the legal proceedings. As far as anyone knows, I was still underage when the movie was filmed—a lie—and under horrible pressure from the movie’s director to do as he wanted—only a half-truth.

  But I did have a reason.

  And I’m about to explain it, if Max will let me.

  I push him back into his chair, and I straddle him on his lap as he groans out loud. Even if he doesn’t mean to do it, his hands still reach out subconsciously to grasp my hips as I position myself on his lap.

  My heart is throbbing, and so is his cock. Ever since Max married my mom, we’ve been extremely careful. Not to touch, not to even look at each other for too long. Nothing that could arouse suspicion.

  I grind on his lap and he curses out loud. I can feel how fucking hard he is for me, his cock throbbing under my pussy, begging to be released from his pants and sucked.

  I lean over to him, my hair falling around us in a blonde, silken curtain. “I did it for you,” I whisper in his ear. “I did it all for you, Max.”

  “What the fuck do you mean?” he hisses, squeezing my hips. My tits are pressed tightly against his chest, and I can smell his cologne and it’s almost too much, too fucking much….

  “I mean I filmed the movie for you,” I say in a small voice. “I let them fuck me, I sucked their dicks, I did everything they told me to do…. I did it for you, Max, so you’d notice that I’m a grown-up.”

  “Fucking shit,” he inhales sharply as I grind against his groin, my lips going to his neck and gently landing below his ear.

  “I did it so you’d see I’m not a little girl anymore,” I murmur in his ear.

  His hands pull me closer to him. He can’t resist, just like I can’t. We never were much good without each other.

  “But, Max…,” I say, biting his neck gently. “I never let them in my ass. I wanted to save that for you.”

  “W-what?” he manages to get out, and our eyes connect. His are completely glazed over and mine are full of intent.

  “Why not?” I moan against his lips, and he throws his head back, needing and wanting more, but trying to resist nonetheless. Always the good guy. I bite on his bottom lip to punish him as my shaky hands go to his belt buckle, the metallic sound of it echoing in the privacy of the office.

  “You were already the first man in my pussy, and the first cock in my mouth….”

  1

  Max

  6 months ago

  Today is my last night of freedom and I’m going to spend it however I damn well please. I know that after tomorrow, my life as I know it is fucking over. It’s a pretty dark statement for someone who is barely thirty-five, but it’s the goddamn truth. So for the remaining few hours, I’m going to do whatever—and whomever—I fucking well please.

  Jed picks me up at home in his beat-up pickup truck, and I mock him for his choice of country music as I climb into the cab. “Nice tune, cowboy.”

  “Down boy.” He grins back at me, and we smile knowingly at each other. He knows the extent of my ordeal and he’s the one man I can fucking trust with this. He’s also the one who suggested we take out his pickup—less chance of it being tracked, allowing us more fucking freedom. It’s going to taste goddamn bittersweet this time, though.

  “Which town do you want to hit up?” he asks, turning up the volume on his horrible tune.

  “Let’s go somewhere close,” I say. “I’m not fucking driving very far with this godawful music playing.”

  “All right, all right.” Jed shakes his head, and we drive along in silence, probably both contemplating the decisions I made to bring me to this point. Jed doesn’t mention a thing, and I appreciate it. No need to remind me of what I’m about to do.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulls into the parking lot of a seedy bar just off the highway. “Really?” I ask him with a cocked eyebrow. “The Lone Ranger?”

  “Seemed appropriate,” Jed says with a wink as we both climb out of the pickup. “I’ll go inside, get a tab started for us.”

  I nod at him, pleased with how well he knows me. He knows I’m gonna stay outside for one last long drag on the cigarettes I’m supposed to quit smoking tomorrow. I lean against the crumbling exterior of the building, lighting the cigarette with my Zippo, and I inhale the much-needed smoke deep into my lungs, letting the tobacco burn me deep before exhaling.

  “Hey, can you spare a drag?” A feminine voice interrupts me, and I look down into a pair of pretty brown eyes. She’s cute, probably Latina, with a perky pair of tits and a firm juicy ass.

  And I can’t be fucking bothered.

  Here I am, one last night out on the town, and I can’t even get it up for a pretty girl like her. I really am fucked.

  “Move it along, sweetheart,” I tell her darkly. “Don’t waste your time on me.”

  She waits a moment longer, and when she finally senses that I’m being serious, she scoffs and gives me an offended look before sauntering off.

  I’m left alone as she enters the bar with a bunch of her friends, all legs and stupid high heels. I finish my smoke in peace, enjoying filling my lungs with poison.

  Finally, I head into the bar and quickly locate Jed in the liquor-scented space. He’s sitting at the bar, and as I join him on a stool, I feel like a real prick. Maybe it’s what I really am. I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise, but the truth is, I am pretty much a dick.

  Jed orders drinks for us both and I drink up. There are quite a few people in here tonight, which surprises me since it’s such a seedy place. Apart from the regular bikers who frequent this place, there are also a couple of questionable-looking ladies and a few college frat boys, probably trying to pick up something off campus.

  My eyes follow the pretty Latina from the parking lot, and she sends me a tortured look, but I just shrug, letting her know it’s still not happening. She scoffs and I grin to myself as she picks up an order at the bar and carries it over to her gaggle of friends.

  And then my eyes stop on the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. Heart-shaped, eyes so big they make her look like a doll. The juiciest, plumpest lips that are just begging to have a dick shoved between them. She’s a stunner, and even the pink bobbed wig she’s wearing won’t ruin that.

  The girl—because she’s not old enough to be a fucking woman yet—is wearing thigh-high suede boots that lace up at the front. She’s in a red dress that skims too high on her thighs, making me want to pull it down to cover more of her legs. The wig and the dress clash horribly, but she’s so fucking stunning that I don’t even give a shit about the assault to my eyes.

  No fucking way is she legal.

  She’s giggling, swigging tequila and talking to her group of friends. She seems to be the center of her group, a little social butterfly. All of their eyes follow her, and when the
y drink, they all clink glasses with the underage vixen.

  “No fucking way,” Jed says in my ear, and I turn to face him.

  “What?” I ask defensively.

  “Her?” he asks, laughing and shaking his head. “No way, man. She’s gonna get hauled out of here any moment now. Probably shouldn’t be drinking. Doesn’t even look eighteen.”

  “Shut up, Jed,” I mutter at him, stealing another glance at the young sex kitten. She’s a vision in that fucking dress, and all I want to do is rip her goddamn wig off to see her in her true glory.

  “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he warns me in a low growl, and I groan, knowing he’s right. That pink-haired beauty is trouble on legs, and I’d do best to keep far, far away from her.

  I attempt to do just that for the rest of the night, keeping my eyes firmly trained on the glass in front of me and downing drink after drink, trying to drown my sorrows. Jed disappears midway through the night with the Latina who hit on me earlier, paying for my tab so far. He asks if I need a ride, but I tell him I’ll catch a cab. No way am I ready to leave yet.

  I focus on my drink again, until someone bumps into me, hard.

  “Oops, sorry,” a girl’s voice says, and I look up to see a cute redhead giggling as she grabs another tequila shot. At least this one looks legal.

  “That’s all right,” I drawl. “Come sit next to me, sweetheart.”

  She blushes, nodding as she sits down clumsily on the barstool next to me. I start talking to her, only half-hearing her answers as she starts to tell me about herself. I don’t give a fuck, to be honest. I just need a cunt to soak my dick in tonight, and she seems plenty eager. As long as there are no strings attached, we’ll be great together.

  “Anyway,” she grins with a blush. “We never exchanged names. I’m Kendra.”

  I shake her outstretched hand with a lopsided grin. “Eric,” I lie smoothly.