The Wild Man Who Stole Me: A Bad Boy Romance Novel Read online

  The Wild Man Who Stole Me

  London Casey

  Jaxson Kidman

  Contents

  Foreword

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  THE WILD MAN WHO STOLE ME

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  From the authors:

  Breaking News!

  About the authors:

  London/Jaxson:

  From Kindle chart topping authors London Casey & Jaxson Kidman comes a wild, fast paced, twist and turn, super sexy novel about a guy trying to save a girl… for all the wrong reasons.

  She's everything I want - I'm everything she needs

  Written by London Casey (Karolyn James) and Jaxson Kidman

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  Newsletter (part of the Outlaw Romance Obsession team): http://eepurl.com/b9BDKb

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  THE WILD MAN WHO STOLE ME

  She's everything I want - I'm everything she needs

  NOAH: I fight. I f*ck. That's it. And Penny's been my after fight fun for weeks now... until she stops showing up. Next thing I know, I'm told she's been kidnapped and I have to save her... only when I save her, I end up as the kidnapper and when the roles get reversed, the danger gets wild, and I can't keep my hands off Penny... this sh*t is getting wild and there's no end in sight...

  PENNY: How many times can one person get kidnapped? You're about to find out. I'm not supposed to be snooping around, but there's a family secret I need to know the truth about. One second there's a gun to my head and the next I'm being handled by a man so strong, inked up, and sexy, that I forget all about the people that want me dead... because when I look into Noah's wild eyes... he's the only chance I have of making it out of this thing with my life...

  Chapter 1

  (Penny)

  *LATER*

  I felt someone approaching me. Instinct told me to open the door faster. Get inside my car and the hell out of there. There really wasn’t a chance to scream for help, considering I was at an illegal underground fight. Yeah, there were police there, but they were betting on the fights, not protecting justice.

  I fought my instinct, thinking it was him.

  It was a perfect situation. As long as he kept giving me a story to tell, I’d keep screwing him. It was win-win for me, because he was fucking amazing with what he had between his legs. He made my mind get cloudy and my body tingle with need.

  The note on my car had scared me the first time, but it came with my job.

  Now… it was going to come to life.

  A hand touched my waist.

  “You got me,” I said, playfully, wishing I had the skill to actually flirt and not sound like a b-movie actress.

  I expected his sexy, rough, fighter voice.

  “You’re fucking right… we warned you.”

  It wasn’t him.

  And before I could scream, a hand clamped over my mouth.

  Chapter 2

  (Noah)

  *NOW*

  My father knew two things in life. How to drink whiskey and how to beat up women. I did everything I could to turn his violent tendencies to me, but he would only beat me until I was out cold and then go back to his other business.

  That’s why I left when I did. That’s why I never looked back. That’s why I still lived underground, as far from anything that was normal as possible. Because when you’ve seen hell and have gotten licked by its flames, you don’t just walk away from it.

  I brought my right fist back and connected with another punch.

  That was three.

  I had two more to go to win a little side bet with Seth. He was my best friend. My goddamn brother, even if we didn’t share the same blood. We always found a way to survive together and we always made money.

  The crowd cheered for me but I ignored them. Fuck them. They were all crooks anyway. Some asshole on his cell, whispering sweet words to his daughter, saying he couldn’t go to her soccer game because he had a meeting. Just so he could throw a grand down on a fight, drink cheap scotch, and get a blow job from some whore wandering around, looking to cover her own cost of addiction.

  The truest dream, right?

  I told Seth I could knock one of the guy’s front teeth out in five punches.

  This guy - Chet - was supposed to be the biggest and toughest fighter, straight from some shit town in Texas. He came all the way west to fight me and I had him all but gone.

  It was a good fight though. My left eye felt like I had a golf ball attached to it. My jaw felt like it was dangling by a few threads of muscle. There were bruises on my sides, my chest, arms, legs. I took a fucking beating on this one. But the paycheck was spectacular.

  There was a big risk with what I was doing. My hand locked tight around Chet’s shirt, keeping him from fully hitting the ground. If he did and shut his eyes, the fight would be called. By keeping him up, it kept the fight going. That meant all Chet needed was one lucky punch to knock my ass out.

  I made a tighter fist and got ready. I gritted my teeth.

  “Finish him, K!” some guy yelled.

  K?

  That’s who I was?

  Too lazy to call me Noah.

  I wanted to find out who said that and go fuck his wife six ways from Sunday. Make her scream my name so loud it’d be bouncing off the walls for weeks. Then the asshole would always remember my full name.

  My middle knuckle was thick. I made sure to line up the fourth punch. I came down and rocked Chet’s mouth. I felt the tooth move and through all the yelling I heard the sick pop sound as it tore from his gums. It also felt like my hand had exploded.

  All I saw was blood.

  The skin on my knuckle had been ripped away.

  I let Chet go and he hit the ground. He started to cough, gurgling on blood, and then he was out.

  Everyone cheered louder for me. I had made some people some serious money. I also had lost some people some money.

  I didn’t care about any of that.

  I needed the tooth.

  “Fuck,” I yelled.

  I searched the ground and t
hen looked at Chet’s mouth.

  The son of a bitch had swallowed it.

  He swallowed his own damn tooth.

  I stood up and someone ran into the circle and lifted my right arm.

  I spit at Chet, knowing Seth was going to give me shit for not having the tooth.

  Sometimes the little things in life were just always meant to go wrong.

  “You owe me,” I said, looking in the mirror as Seth stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

  “Show me the tooth.”

  “Fuck you, Seth. He swallowed it.”

  “He’s still here. You can go get it.”

  “How?”

  “Make him throw up.”

  I laughed. “You’re sick.”

  He pushed from the doorway. “If you were smart, you’d wait until tomorrow and then get to him after he takes a shit. That’s when it’ll come out.”

  “Five hundred bucks is not worth digging through some guy’s shit.”

  “Good point. It used to be though, right?” Seth slipped his hands into his pockets. He always got sentimental after fights. Remember the dark days. “We’d kill for five bucks.”

  “That was a long time ago,” I said. “I don’t live in the past. I live in the now.”

  “We have to meet with Marcos,” Seth said. “Collect our earnings.”

  “I love how you’re in a nice outfit there and I’m covered in blood. Yet we get earnings?”

  “Sorry, brother,” Seth said. “That’s the way it goes. You want to do what I do for a living? Wage the war on the street for the benefit of the man watching over us?”

  “That sounds religious.”

  “A-fucking-men,” Seth said.

  “Um, excuse me?” a voice asked.

  I looked in the mirror and saw sex standing next to Seth.

  I turned around and stared.

  She was short, wearing jeans and a tight black shirt, staring straight at me. I could see the green color of her eyes at our distance, her dirty blonde hair tucked back behind her ears. There were whores all over the building, dressed and designed to fuck and suck, but this woman was different. Something about normal and naturally beautiful struck me like an arrow to my heart.

  Remember what I said about my old man and whiskey? Yeah, well women were my whiskey. And I didn’t have one brand I preferred. I was simple: I wanted them all.

  And I wanted this woman.

  My dick pressed against my jeans. My adrenaline was still riding high because of the fight. It was probably one of the best times to fuck because of the wild animal raging throughout my body.

  “Can I help you?” Seth asked.

  “I’m here to see him,” the woman said.

  “Well then,” Seth said. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit, Noah. Stay safe.”

  Seth grinned and winked at me.

  He left the room and I turned to face the sink again.

  “Do you know why I’m here?” she asked.

  Please, honey. I get punched to the head a lot but I’m not losing my mind.

  I could smell the heat pouring from her. She was like a volcano ready to go.

  I stared at her through the reflection in the mirror. “Yeah. I get fans from time to time. Tell you what, there’s some empty offices just down the hall. Let me wash up and I’ll meet you there.”

  The woman shut the door and twisted the lock. She touched the top of her jeans and unbuttoned them, walking toward me.

  Her green eyes became fire. “No. I want you right fucking now.”

  Chapter 3

  (Penny)

  I left all my notes in the car. Walking around with that stuff was like a target on my back. I was at the fight to look around, paint a picture with my words, and bring to life what exactly this secret life was. It was a high paying job, but it went deeper than just people beating the shit out of each other. My boss wanted more. He was like a junkie with this stuff. The money kept coming to me in envelopes and I didn’t ask questions. What Andy wanted was the life of a fighter. Not just about the fights. It made sense, too, because these guys were given a chance at survival. Most of the time, those who lost were sent packing… sometimes with a bullet to the skull.

  Those who won were often paid and then sent to clean themselves up and get ready to do it again. The scene was so powerful, the room always thick with tension, the smell of rust and liquor, tons of wealthy and important people there to cut loose and blow off steam. Most of the people there faked the rest of their lives, probably taking a boat out on the water or playing golf to give the appearance of relaxation. In reality, they wanted to see two men go at it.

  It was barbaric, but maybe it was just the fiery instinct of man. To hunt. To fight. To win. To kill.

  I finished a drink and worked my way through the crowd. They were cheering like crazy. Ties loosened, drinks in hand, they were like teenage girls at their favorite pop group concert, cheering each time the hottest of the hot sang a note. Except the hottest guy was a fighter built with slick, rippling muscle that was earned by fighting, not through a gym membership and some protein shakes. He was tall, lean, every cut of his body rounded with more muscle. I watched as he held a guy by the shirt, punching him over and over, shaking him to keep the guy alive.

  This is the one… Noah.

  He was the baddest and the best at it. He had scruff on his face as though he needed a quick shave but just didn’t give a shit. His short black hair dripped with sweat. His face was messed up too. It had been a decent enough fight.

  I wasn’t in the business of watching fights. A fight like this had taken my father from me. That was a lifetime ago and, yeah, maybe it was part of the reason why I became obsessed with the fights. To try and understand the life.

  It never made sense to me…

  The fight was finally over and Noah walked away with a cocky swagger that made every man in the building jealous that they weren’t him. He was beyond gorgeous and he instantly set me on fire. It was the third time I watched him fight and it was going to be the first time I fucked him.

  People say stuff like the way to a man’s heart is through cooking him food… not with these guys. These fighters liked two things. To fight. And to fuck.

  Lucky for me, Noah was a beautifully broken man and I was going to get everything I could out of him. In more ways than one.

  I touched his face as I slid my hand down the front of his jeans, feeling the thick root of his cock. My hand stood no chance against what he had to offer.

  I pressed my thumb to the corner of his eye, seeing blood on my thumb.

  “Does it hurt?” I whispered.

  “Everything hurts,” Noah said. “That’s life.”

  I wrestled with his jeans and took his dick out. It was beautiful. Just like him. Long and full, with a rugged kind of look to it. Well defined but with veins that created ridges that were going to tear me apart.

  His hands grabbed my waist and his fingers slid up my shirt, touching my body. I had already stepped out of my own jeans, leaving me in a black pair of panties. I was wet, ready, needing the touch of a real man. Sometimes my professional wants and personal needs mixed together creating a very touchy line. I could have just teased Noah then, which had been my original plan. But the second his strong hands cupped over my small breasts, devouring me, I felt myself shudder. I stared into his dark eyes and felt a sense of protection that I never felt for a person. Everything about him was mysterious and went far beyond him being mostly a stranger.

  My hand stroked his cock slow, feeling every inch and memorizing everything about him. I wanted to break him down, making him mine.

  Before I could even come up with an actual plan to attempt just that, Noah lifted me up and spun me around. He sat me on the edge of the sink. It made my ass cold and shiver for a second, but his sweaty hands were there, his body - pulsing with the heat from the fight - an inch from me.

  “You seem like trouble,” he whispered, his lips flirting with mine.

  “Why’s t
hat?” I asked.

  “You think you’re way too beautiful and blood doesn’t scare you.”

  “Then back away if I’m trouble,” I said.

  Noah touched my face and curled his lip. “No, honey, you don’t get it. I fucking love trouble.”

  Noah kissed me and thrust himself inside me.

  That was the exact moment I knew we were both in big fucking trouble.

  Chapter 4

  (Noah)

  Two more fights and two more times she was there. I got her name after the first time I fucked her. For some reason, I actually wanted to know her name. Normally I’d just pop out and walk the fuck away. Hell, if anything, I should have taken more precaution with her. She swore to me she was on the pill and clean. My adrenaline and my cock were so revved up, they convinced my mind to believe her and just have fun.

  My face barely had a chance to fully heal before I was jumping back into the circle, taking on someone else.

  The new bet I had with Seth was if I could get someone to swallow a tooth. Like what happened with Chet. I tacked this one guy seven times, broke his tooth, but Seth said since it wasn’t the entire tooth, the bet was called off. Fucking prick.

  It was another night and another fight.

  I kept to myself the day of fights. They were all important to me because they were my means to survival. I reminded myself that I came from under a bridge, literally. That’s where I lived, with Seth, and a group of other guys and girls for a long time. Seth and I were able to use our talents and rise up above all that street shit, which was good.

  I’d eat and hit the gym, lifting weights and hitting a heavy bag until my knuckles were swollen. I had been working with a young guy named Dalton who had a real good shot at going legit. I had been pushing him in the right direction for a long time, keeping him off the street, away from drugs, and away from Seth and Marcos. They’d fucking eat him up. He was tall, wide shoulders, chiseled dark skin, and had a pretty boy face that everyone would love. His father was in jail for dealing - and for the attempted murder of his mother. He allegedly shot Dalton’s mother up with some bad shit and left her brain dead. She was in an assisted care facility, leaving Dalton to himself. He was eighteen, so he legally was on his own, but I knew how it went. Those demons all around him were calling. Drugs, gangs, guns, pussy, money. They were all promises. Good promises, but they only looked good in the light. Because they all contained a wicked darkness.