Reading Online Novel

So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(60)



Tyson pulls his hand away and groans against my flesh when a flood of wetness descends for him to lap up. He sucks the juice from my pussy and licks my folds clean.

He pauses for a second, pulling the waistband of his sweat pants down to free his engorged erection. Then he tugs at my hip. I lower myself onto his cock.

Tyson fills me, stretching and invading my body and my heart.

His little boy smile shines as I bring him pleasure like he just gave me.

His one hand keeps time with my movements at my hip, his grip tightening and loosening with every roll of my hips. I stretch forward to run my tongue across his lower lip.

Ty’s arm goes all the way around me, yanking me to his chest.

His eyes go wide, and he abruptly lets go with a gasp. “Fucking hell.”

I scramble off his lap. With my hands over my mouth, I say, “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

He leans forward a bit, but then he straightens again, his forehead beading with sweat. “Not your fault. I did it. Forgot…forgot the arm was there.”

I pull my t-shirt down and shift from foot to foot, unsure. “What can I do? Tell me and I’ll help.”

He waves me away, his voice strained when he says, “Nothing. Sorry.”

Ty pulls his sweatpants over his cock.

“I’m going to get you a pain pill.” I fling the door open and run into the bedroom.

When I let myself out of the house again, he sits rigid, his back to me.

With his phone at his ear, he says, “I understand. Thanks for letting me know, Marcus. Yeah, see what else we can do.”

He’s quiet for a moment before replying to the person on the other end. “I don’t care how much. Money isn’t anything to worry about. You’re a good man—look—just figure it out. “

He hangs up the phone and stands.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“The DNA results came in.” As he turns, he swipes his fingers across each of his cheeks and sniffs. “Negative.”





NINETEEN





My heart mirrors the ache in my collarbone.

Rage burns in my gut, and I don’t want Jo to see me when it explodes.

I leave Jo on the patio and go through the house to my office. This is about the only room left that hasn’t been settled into. The desk is about half unpacked with a couple of boxes stacked on its corner.

With my good hand, I swipe everything off the desktop and onto the floor. The box that didn’t spill its guts over the carpet suddenly becomes the center of my anger. I kick it, over and over. And when it lies on its side, pens, pencils, tape, and paperclips scatter over the floor, I lash out at it even more. I don’t stop bashing at it with my bare foot until its sides are caved in and it’s no longer box shaped. And after that, I stomp on its remains.

I jump on the crunching contents of whatever happens to be left inside the offensive former-cube, holding my bad arm close to my body, gritting my teeth, and trying hard not to scream at the top of my lungs.

A warm hand lands on my back. I stop and hang my head while my lungs heave with exertion. “I’m sorry. I—I sorta lost it.”

“Shush. Come here.”

Over my shoulder, her eyes hold so much care and concern that it almost scares me, but at the same time, it soothes the overwhelming hurt within.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s still my son. My son.”

“Of course he is.” Her arms close around my waist. She places a sweet kiss between my shoulder blades and then lays her head against my back. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

With Jo behind me, holding me together, somehow, even in the midst of this crushing pain and fear, I believe she might be right.




I nuzzle the back of Jo’s neck while she stands at the bathroom sink, toothpaste foaming around her mouth, wrapped in a towel. She tries to shrug me off. I palm her ass cheek and ignore the slight twinge in my shoulder. My hard-on presses against her, and I close my eyes, letting out an audible sigh.

She spits into the sink and rinses her mouth before turning to me. “Tyson Masters, it’s only been a few weeks. After the last time, the doctor said—”

“Screw the doctor. My collarbone is fine. I’m not even in the sling anymore. But I am in need, and so are you. It’s been too long since I’ve tasted you.”

Jo rolls her eyes. “You’re a slave to your urges.”

“That I am.” I grab hold of her and set her up onto the counter. “And I’m going to make you a slave to them too.”

I nip her bottom lip, and she gives me that little groan I’ve come to love. I slide the tip of my tongue along the seam of her lips until she opens for me.

Kissing Jo has become a pastime I’m determined will be a daily occurrence from now into the foreseeable future. She tastes like the gates of heaven, and I want in.