NO PRINCE by Stevie J. Cole & LP Lovell
Release Date: April 9th
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Zepp Hunt wasn’t the king of Dayton high school. He was the top of the food chain. And
I was next in line to be dragged into the lion’s den. At least that’s what he thought…
Good girls wanted to tame him. Bad girls want to be tainted by him. Everyone bowed
down to him. And me?
I hated Zeppelin Hunt with every fiber of my being.
Which was why I stayed away from the arrogant bad boy with tattoos and a rap sheet.
Until I couldn’t.
Until we traded favors, and I owed him three months of my life. I never thought I would
end up in his bed, and when I did, I had to remind myself that he hated me as much as I
Until I didn’t.
Zepp Hunt was no prince, and I absolutely refused to be his damsel in distress…
My gaze narrowed on the silhouette slinking through the parked cars. Something about the sway of her hips seemed familiar. The curvy redhead stepped underneath the fluorescent glow of Velma’s sign, and I groaned. Monroe James went to my school. She lived two trailers down from my best friend, and the last thing we needed was a possible witness who knew our names when the guy reported his car stolen.
“Shit, man. Keep going. I’ve gotta go distract this chick.” I moved away from the car, striding over the gravel toward Monroe.
Her pace slowed. Through the dark, I could barely make out her narrowed gaze aimed at me.
I made a blatant show of looking over her long legs. And damn, that skirt was short. “Nice skirt,” I said.
“Eat shit.” She stepped around me without missing a beat.
I faltered. That was not how this shit went ever. I complimented a girl—she swooned. I spun around. I wanted to call her a bitch, but she was headed straight toward Bellamy. So I swallowed my pride for a second and started after her. “You should learn to take a compliment, you know?”
“You should learn to fuck off.”
My jaw clenched. She was a row over from the damned Hurst. God, I couldn’t just tell her to fuck off.
“You don’t have to play hard to get. I’ve heard you’re easy, Monroe.”
“I’ve heard you have herpes. I’m busy, so again, fuck off.”
I didn’t have time for this. I brushed past her. She could turn us in if she wanted. We’d sell the Hurst before the cops ever showed up at my house anyway. Lack of proof was a bitch. “Bell!” I shouted across the parked cars. “Hurry the fuck up.”
Her steps over the gravel quickened, and she popped up right beside me. “Are you stealing that car?”
“What if I am?” I stopped a few feet in front of the Hurst.
And I knew that look, the way her gaze swept over me while she bit at her lip. Before tonight, I hadn’t said a word to Monroe, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t noticed the girl. Curves. Big tits. Tiny waist. Red hair. She was hot in that look-at-me-and-I’ll-kill-you kind of way, which made her hard not to notice. This wasn’t the first time I had thought about sinking my dick into her.
“Well, that might change things.” Her finger trailed down my chest. “I do like a bad boy.” Most girls did. It was their kryptonite.
“Yeah?” I grabbed her, pinning her against the rusted piece of shit behind me. “You wanna be tainted by the bad boy, Monroe. That it?”
“Fuck my life,” Bellamy grumbled behind me. “Seriously, Zepp?”
She threaded her fingers through my belt loops and snapped my body tight to hers. I imagined grabbing her by the waist and throwing her face down on the hood of the car, going at her until my dick was raw.
Her lips brushed my jaw. “Do you wanna fuck me, Zepp?”
“I wanna ruin you.”
Bellamy groaned in the background. “Great. I’m going to my car. Let me know when you’re ready to work, dickhead.”
And now I was totally going to fuck her against this car. “Are you a screamer, Monroe?”
Her fingers raked the back of my neck, and she pulled me close. I waited for her to go for my fly and pull me out, but instead, she rammed her knee in my groin. I doubled over, grabbing myself while I fought for a breath, but the pain only got worse. It felt like my nuts were in my throat. My legs buckled, and my knees hit the gravel.
I heard the jingle of keys before the car door opened and slammed shut. Not even two seconds later, the engine growled to life, shaking the ground.
“What the hell, man?” Bellamy shouted, running up behind me when the reverse lights came on. The tires spun, kicking gravel everywhere before she shot off, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in the glow of the taillights.
“Did she just take the car?
About Stevie J. Cole:
Stevie J. Cole likes to write realistic stories with raw, gritty characters you should hate but can’t help but to love.
She’s obsessed with rock music, loves sloths, and has an unnatural obsession with British accents.
Her books are not recommended for the faint of heart.
About LP Lovell:
Lauren Lovell is a ginger from England.
She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.
Lauren loves a mildly…or not so mildly psychopathic hero, and a dark, twisted tale.
If you like like your boys very very bad, then hop on in.
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