Bad Luck With Bad Boys

By Nicola Nichols

Stella’s idea of love is rough and adventurous and bad boys get her hot. Nice guys just don’t excite her at all. Unfortunately, the guys she pick keep getting into trouble. She gets a job with a lady lawyer who shows her a path she can follow on her own — working as a porn star, she can have all the bad boys she wants without tying her future to their bad choices. And it will be an adventure.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

I went to the office early on Monday. Going to work was supposed to be therapeutic. It takes your mind off your troubles. In this case, it was also a way of escaping the morning evil feelings.

Despite my best efforts, Trish woke up depressed. Of course, her world had been turned upside down. Greg, her white knight, was spending hours and hours with tax people, prosecutors, and the like. Sam was in jail, being held without bail since he’d already demonstrated he was a flight risk.

It wasn’t so hard for me. I’d been through this before and Sam and I weren’t engaged. Those things made a difference. Still, I was out of sorts too. Sam had called me as I was dressing to head to the office. He sounded terrible.

“I think you have bigger problems than that car.”

“There are no bigger problems,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter much. With Greg helping the prosecutors, I’m not getting out of here for some time. Do yourself a favor. Forget about me and get a life.”

That was easier said than done. His words chilled me, as it was a remarkable echo of what my drug-dealing boyfriend had said. He’d gotten fifteen years.

“That was just bad luck,” Trisha insisted when I told her. “Both of those guys were doing whatever shit got them in trouble before you even came along. It isn’t even that they did bad shit for you. It’s on them.”

“Still, it’s not a promising indication of my ability to pick a guy for a lovely forevermore,” I said.

She laughed. “You’ve never cared about forevermore. You are a here and now kind of girl.”

“True, but I’d hope the here and now would last a little longer.”

“Maybe you just have bad luck with bad boys.” Then she sighed. “Of course, it’s hard to avoid. Bad boys are what you really want. You don’t seem to want a husband.”

That stopped me. It cut to the core of my own uncertainty. “I don’t, do I? Which raises the question of what I do want?”

“You want a good time. You want adventure. But adventure is dangerous and involves guys who love risk taking. That’s why I look more for a long-term relationship.”

She was too right. “You don’t really run from fun yourself. That foursome was partly your idea.”

“So, I have a sweet tooth,” she said. “No one is consistent all the time.”

With that in my head, I went to work.

I had a list of routine crap chores that needed doing. On the way into the office, I stopped to pick up Martine’s dry cleaning, and when I arrived and checked the voicemail, I shuffled two appointments, and then wrote a letter to complain about a shitty rental car Martine had rented on a recent trip to the Coast.

Martine came in on time and started in making calls, chatting with clients, and the usual. Most of that week was spent catching up on shit like that. Martine had let a lot of things slide, and now it was up to me to get it done.

I liked being at the office. Martine and I were hitting it off well. I found her a fascinating person. She was confident... had the self-assured manner you’d want a lawyer to have, and I thought it made her sexier.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boruma Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Mar 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463994092

Book preview

Bad Luck With Bad Boys

A Wildly Erotic Story

Nicola Nichols

Copyright © 2020 by Nicola Nichols

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

TRISH’S BAD BOY

I woke up pissed off. I was going to have to find a new job. Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed working in the convenience store.

The work was easy, and I got to work with Trisha. She was my roommate and my best friend.

We did the job but had fun too.

But things change. Sometimes the changes are predictable and for the better, but even then, they can be bittersweet.

It was all because Trish had started dating a hot guy who came into the store one day to buy beer. He started talking to her and wound up asking her out.

His name was Greg Wilkins and when I finally saw him, I thought she was lucky she met him first. He looked like a guy I would like to know.

Greg was six-two, in his thirties, and well dressed. He had a hard-muscled ebony body that screamed lots of gym time and made a girl feel it promised all kinds of fun and pleasure.

He works downtown as a financial advisor, she told me.

Not rich, but well off for sure. That was a seductive combination.

Right away, they hit it off big time. Lucky Trish.

I was still smarting from my romance. I’d hooked up with a guy I met at a party. He was hot. He was a confident guy with a wicked smile and a wonderful aptitude for hot sex.

We were fucking our brains out, and I was having too much fun to learn much about his life. He always had money and didn’t mind spending it.

I thought things were going well, and that maybe I’d found a guy who liked me and would keep me satisfied.

When the cops busted him for dealing drugs, I got the hint that I hadn’t been paying attention.

I guess it was good that it happened before I moved in with him, or I might’ve gotten mixed up in his shit.

I love bad boys. I love being with them but I don’t always like the things bad boys do out in the world, I guess.

I didn’t care so much that he dealt drugs, but I did care that he got caught. When that happened it fucked up our story, deprived me of his sassy attitude and that macho behavior that turned me on.

That’s just bad luck, Trisha said when I told them that the guy was going down for a long time.

The good thing about liking bad boys is that you don’t get sentimental about them. They are hard cases. I had been enjoying the ride, loving the sex, but now it was over, and I got over it fast.

The hard part was being alone again.

I don’t like being without a guy, so once I knew he’d be locked up for a while, I started going out with other guys.

I fucked a couple of pretty cool studs, but damn it, I couldn’t find one with the right spark. I wanted a guy who had a lust for life, a lust for me.

There were too many who were really nice guys with great bodies and good jobs, but most of them wanted someone to settle down and grow old with.

I wanted a guy who was looking for someone to go on an adventure with. I wanted a guy to take me places in and out of bed.

While I struggled with my problem, Greg and Trish were having fun.

Trish and I were alike in many ways, but we were different in one important way. The biggest one was that she had her sights set on getting married.

She liked screwing a variety of guys and did her share of partying, but I think she was sowing her wild oats and was looking forward to being what she thought of as grown up. I could accept that.

I think part of our friendship came from thinking differently about life but still appreciating the other person.

She thought Greg wanted that to settle down too. He planned to, but he’d been married once before and gotten burned.

As a result, while things got hot and heavy between them immediately, she felt he was dragging his feet on making a serious commitment. That bugged her.

I couldn’t blame him. He’d been divorced a couple of years by then and liked the new life. Although he seemed focused on Trish and said he planned on marrying her, he wasn’t in a rush to complicate things.

His wife was uptight, Trish told me.

About what?

"About what she thought of as anything kinky. He said they were young; he was crazy for her and let her rush him into marriage. They’d had sex, but she gave him the idea that she wanted to save some things for when they were married.

After he married her he found out that she didn’t like kinky at all. It disgusted her and her idea of kinky meant anything but a straight screw.

Sounds like he made a really bad call, right?

He thinks so. That’s why he’s determined to take his time in our relationship. Before he marries again, he needs to be sure he’s got a different kind of woman. One who wants to try things — things his wife wouldn’t do.

I shrugged. So how long can that take? Fuck him every way but loose.

She sighed. He doesn’t want to be conned and figures that a woman might play along, do everything to set the hook. He wants to be sure.

So, you are playing his game.

She swallowed. We’ve talked about some things he wants… and tried a couple.

Tease. Give me a real example.

She made a face. Doing sex in public turns him on.

And?

We went into the park one day. I let him fuck me against a tree.

Sounds nice, I said.

Another time, I went to his office, and he got me to give him a blow job at his desk. He fucking got off on me going down on him with his coworkers in the building, I can tell you. I thought I’d choke to death with the wad he shot down my throat.

I could get his attitude. No way could I imagine being married to some guy whose entire idea of satisfying sex was straight missionary in and out.

On the other hand, it was a great story to tell a girl who’d fallen for you so that she’d do whatever you wanted.

He didn’t have to worry. Trish was so excited about having such a strong macho guy care about her that she was clearly willing to do almost anything to please him.

It was none of my business, I thought. Not then.

Hell, at that point, I figured that Greg was a little too nice to be my kind of guy.

And if he was stringing Trish along, cruel in a way I didn’t like, well he sure pleased her in bed, as well as in the park.

Trish and I both worked part time, so we had our nights off. Greg liked that.

Some nights he’d take her to dinner and then take her to his elegant uptown apartment for the night.

Other nights they’d wind up back at our place.

If I knew Greg was going to be over in an evening, I’d go out for dinner or a movie and come home late.

I didn’t want to intrude, and besides, when I didn’t have a guy of my own, hearing them fuck was a serious frustration.

One night I went out to a dance club, hoping to hook up with someone. I hadn’t been laid in months.

Most of the guys seemed shy that night. The one who did try to feel me up was too hesitant about it. That kind of guy didn’t have the alpha quality I wanted.

Call me picky, but I didn’t find anyone I liked, and I wound up coming home alone.

When I came in, they were in her bedroom.

Trish is a screamer.

I don’t how she is somewhere else, but at home, I get to hear her brag to whoever might be within the sound of her voice about the remarkable size of the cock that is stuffing her pussy full.

The place we rent is cheap and we like it, but sounds travel in a place like that.

I went into my room and tried to watch a movie, but I couldn't keep my mind on it.

Even with earbuds in I could hear Trish.

Oh yes, Greg, oh yes, Greg, give me that big cock, fuck me hard. And squealing.

Greg was making those macho grunts of pleasure, punctuated with his own comments about how tight her cunt was and how good it felt.

I felt trapped.

Finally, I gave up and went to sit on the couch in the living room.

My room is right across from hers, so it is actually quieter there.

I poured myself a stiff drink and sat in the dark, sipping it thinking over my life and trying to decide what kinds of changes I could make that would improve it.

Like I said, our apartment is cheap and only has one bathroom. It’s located at the end of the hall, past the bedroom doorways, and alongside the kitchen. It’s kind of like a shotgun shack.

From the couch in the living room, I could look past the bedroom doors into the kitchen and bathroom.

After a time, her door opened, and Greg walked out of the bedroom.

I was delighted to see that he was naked. I took full advantage of