How to Fall in Love (42 page)

“Emalie, I want to spend the rest of my life making trouble with you, because you’re the only person I could ever want to do it with.”

He flips the box open and pulls out a ring that has the inscription “Highway To The Danger Zone...Together. Forever.”

I burst into tears as he slides it on my wedding finger.

“Will you marry me, kid?”

I press my hands over my mouth, and nod frantically, before throwing myself into his arms. “Yes, oh God, yes.”

He laughs and pulls me into his arms, kissing me long and deep. I pull back and let my legs dangle back over the side, staring at the perfect ring.

“It’s the only thing that’ll ever explain us,” I whisper.

Rainer takes my hand. “And it will for the rest of our lives.”

I stare ahead, so happy my heart is swelling. Then I get an idea, and a big smile stretches across my face.

“Do you think we could still be as rebellious as we used to?” I ask and he grins.

“Oh, fuck yeah. You want to try?”

I turn to him, capturing his face in my hands. “I love you Rainer Torrence.”

He leans down, kissing my lips. “I love you too, Emy.”

“Forever this time?”

He smiles, big and beautiful. “Forever this time.”

I kiss him back hard and after a moment, he pulls back. “Now, let’s go and cause some trouble. You in?”

He jumps down from the tree house and extends a hand to me. With a massive smile, I follow. “Um, hell yes.”

He takes my hand and we start running. As we do, I start singing to him. “R is for Rainer, handsome as can be, A is for asshole, one he can be, I is for idiot, yeah, you know it’s true, N is for nerdy, you’re a little of that too, E is for energetic, there’s no holding you back, R is for rebel, one day I’ll fight back.”

He chuckles loudly.

And it’s the best sound in the world.

A sound I get to keep forever. Finally.

THE END

~*WINGMAN*~

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WINGMAN

Copyright © 2014 Bella Jewel

––––––––

W
INGMAN is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Please do not take offence to the content, as it is FICTION.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to all the blogs, fans, readers, editors and cover artists who have helped me on my journey. You’re all so amazing. I can’t explain how appreciative I am to each and every one of you. You make this real for me, and because of that, I would give you the world if I could.

I love you all.

LINKS

Join me on Facebook here—->
Bella Jewel

OTHER WORKS FROM BELLA JEWEL

Hell’s Knights – MC Sinners Book One.

Heaven’s Sinners – MC Sinners Book Two.

Knights’ Sinner – MC Sinners Book Three.

Bikers and Tinsel – MC Sinners Book 3.5

Enslaved By The Ocean

Angels In Leather

Number Thirteen

Life After Taylah

PROLOGUE

Wingman

A wingman is a
role
that a person may take when an acquaintance needs support with approaching possible partners.

Reign.

The name has a sigh whooshing out of my mouth and my eyes rolling.

King of sex. Jealous. Possessive. Obsessed.
Gorgeous.

Those are the first thoughts that come to mind when describing sex extraordinaire, Reign Braxton.

Six months ago, I would have melted to my knees at the very sight of him. Golden eyes, tall, broad, ripped beyond ripped, messy black hair and a smile to die for. He could flick your panties off and have them running for cover with a mere glance in your direction.

He’s also an asshole.

Like, a
mega
asshole. Not just your average prick—no, Reign takes prick to a whole new level. He owns the word. What he doesn’t own, however, is a heart. It packed its bags and ran off with the last woman who left him: the woman who put me in this position.

The woman that brought Reign into my life.

Selena.

Also known as
Slutena
. That’s all she is, a giant whore with dollar signs in her eyes. Her need for Reign goes no further than a cock to warm her expensive pussy at night and a credit card to pay for her luxurious,
make-her-legs-look-gorgeous
shoes.

But without Slutena, there would be no
me
. You see, although Reign is all those things to her, to him she’s like . . . sunshine or whatever. He looks at her and his golden eyes go all mushy. He fell for her million-dollar pussy and those damned legs, and then he found another man balls deep inside her just over a year ago.

Broke his heart—the heart she still holds.

So that’s where I come in. I’d like to call myself a superhero, but that would be unclassy. I’m far better. I’m the ultimate. I’m the reason his bed is kept warm and his ex is kept jealous.

I’m Reign’s wingman.

Or,
wingwoman
, if you will.

CHAPTER ONE

Where it all begins

“Those shoes look super hot on you, Tia.” My best friend, Autumn, grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I stare down at my red pumps. They are pretty hot. And with my tight, black dress that dips down at the back, and my blond hair, I’m hoping I’ll gather the right sort of male attention tonight. The river is dry, if you know what I mean. It’s been months since I’ve had a man in my bed, and desperation has finally wrapped its claws around me, and shaken.

Time to get laid.

“You’ll kill it,” Autumn says, tucking her long, blond hair up on top of her head.

“So will you. Damn.” I whistle. “Who gave you those legs?”

She turns to me, flashing her man-catching grin and starts singing, “
I got it from my momma, I got it from my momma
.”

I laugh and smooth my straight, thick hair down. It’s blond; not light blond, but not dark blond either. It’s a little like honey. My eyes are hazel, nothing special, but they work with my olive skin tone. My hair, as much as I love it, also causes me great grief.

Firstly, it’s too straight. I mean come on, not even a wave?

Secondly, it’s thick. Super thick;
two hairbands
kind of thick.

“You ready?” Autumn asks, jerking me out of my mirror pout.

“Do you think I should leave my hair down?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Of course you should. Your hair is your best feature.”

“Hey,” I protest. “I have a great ass, too.”

She laughs and hooks her arm through mine. “Come on, Tia, let’s get you laid.”

Bring it.

~*~*~*~

“H
oly fucking shit, that’s Reign Braxton.”

I turn my gaze to the man that has captured Autumn’s attention not even minutes after we’ve entered the club and gotten a drink. My brows shoot up and I nod, impressed. It is, in fact, Reign Braxton. I’ve never seen him in person, only ever on the television. He owns a massive line of
Blue Candy
clubs across the state. He’s an extremely rich, extremely gorgeous male.

I also hear he rocks in bed—like
rocks
rocks.

“So it is,” I yell over the music, being careful not to spill my martini all over myself.

“You should go talk to him,” she cries. “Imagine how good he would be in bed.”

I nod, pursing my lips as I contemplate this. Then, shrugging my shoulders and figuring
what the hell
, I head over, hearing Autumn’s squeal of delight from behind me.

My guess? I’ve made the right choice. Reign is sitting at the bar, talking to the bartender, who looks as though he’s having a pineapple shoved deep,
deep
into his ass.

Uh-oh, someone’s in trouble.

I stop beside Reign and lean against the bar. As if sensing my presence, he turns and holy shit, my panties shrivel up and die at the mere sight of him. They know they’re not needed in this moment. My lips part on a gasp as I take him in. The television does amazing things for him, but this . . . up close . . . right in his face . . . that’s another story altogether.

His eyes are like liquid gold, sparkling with pure, raw, male perfection. His jaw is square, his nose slightly bent. He’s obviously been in a few fights in his life, but it seems to fit his rugged, manly features. He’s got a tiny scar above his top lip, but it doesn’t take away from them. No, it just makes him look even more dangerous. His hair is messy, as though he’s only run his hands through the dark locks before leaving home.

He’s wearing a suit; only he’s tossed the jacket and rolled up the sleeves to his crisp, white shirt. The top two buttons have popped open, revealing smooth, golden skin. With a shaky hand, I drag my eyes away from his and slide my glass across the bar to the still shaking man standing behind it. He turns his blue eyes to mine, giving me a thankful expression.

“Another?” he asks.

“Please.”

He turns and rushes off to make it and I sit, staring, pretending I don’t feel Mr. Panty Melter beside me, staring at the side of my face.

“You come here often?”

I roll my eyes. His voice might be sexy as hell, but that line is so . . .
lame.

“No,” I say, still not looking at him.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

I turn to face him.
Whoosh
, there goes my breath again.

“Did you just use the ‘Do you come here often’ line on me?”

He narrows his eyes. Jesus, talk about broody. He looks like he’s about to take me over his knee and spank me. “You got a name?”

“Do you?” I throw back, grinning.

He doesn’t grin back. Well
excuse
me.

“I asked you first.”

Child.

“My name is Candy.”

A snort from him. “What’s your real name?”

“Jennifer.”

“No, your real one.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and glare at him. “How do you know that’s not my real one?”

“You hesitated,” he says simply.

“I’m drinking.”

He shakes his head. “Everyone knows their name, drunk or not. So I’ll ask you again, what’s your name?”

“Leila.”

He lets out a deep, exasperated sigh. “Have you got a mental condition?”

“What?” I gasp, eyes wide. “No, I do
not
have a mental condition.”

In a steely voice, he grinds out, “Then tell me, your fuckin’ name.”

“Someone needs to get laid,” I mutter.

“Here’s your drink, miss,” the bartender says, returning.

His eyes nervously go to Reign as I slide him the money for it, then he rushes off again before he can start up the ass-ripping he was giving earlier.

I watch him go, then mutter, “Are you always so mean to your staff?”

“What makes you think I was being mean to him?” he asks, not looking at me. Instead his eyes are fixed on the whiskey in front of him.

“He looked like he was going to cry when you were speaking to him.”

“He was caught fucking on the job.”

My mouth forms an
O
. “Like,
fucking
fucking?”

Golden eyes turns to me again. “Like, dick deep-in-pussy, over-my-bar kind of fucking.”

I nod, impressed. “Atta boy.”

Reign glares at me.

“What?” I say, putting my hands up.

“You think it’s okay to fuck on the job?”

“I do
not
,” I say, sipping my martini. “But in my defense, it sounded hot and it’s been a long time since I’ve had dick-deep-in-pussy, over-the-bar kind of fucking.”

Whoa. Golden Eyes just got lusty.

“Are you always so forward?”

I shrug. “It’s not my best trait.”

“It’s not your worst, either,” he murmurs.

Oh dear.

“So,” he continues, his voice husky and low, “are you going to tell me your name?”

“Tiani,” I manage, taking another sip of my martini.

He doesn’t question if that’s my real name. Damn him.

“How did you know that wasn’t fake?” I say, turning to him and crossing my legs.

His eyes slide down my dress, over my legs and stop at my shoes.

“You didn’t pause,” he says. “Nice shoes.”

Keep cool, Tiani.

“So, what’s a man like you doing sitting here all alone?”

His eyes finally meet mine again. “Same reason as you’re here, I assume.”

“To get fucked?”

Lusty eyes again.

“Precisely,” he grates out.

“Well you’re not doing a very good job trying, are you?”

He shrugs. “I’ve never been good at picking up.”

“Because?” I probe.

“Because I’ve been with a woman for seven years.”

Whoa, Reign’s a committing type. Interesting.

“And now . . .” I say, dragging the sentence out.

“She’s fucking my personal assistant.”

“She’s a lesbian?” I gasp. “
Gross.
That bitch.”

He snorts. “My personal assistant
was
a man.”

Ohhhhh.

Poor dude—his wife ran off with his P.A. That’s low.

“Well that sucks. When you say
was
, you mean . . .” I trail off, staring at him.

“Meaning he got fired, meaning I stripped him of his manhood.”

My eyes widen and I smile wickedly. “Did you cut his penis off?”

His brows go up. “I’m questioning your mental stability again.”

“Well,” I argue, crossing my arms, “how can you strip him of his manhood then?”