Bad Boys of Chaos: The Complete Duet Boxset: Books 1-2 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Perfect Chaos

  Copyright

  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

  Imperfect Chaos

  Copyright

  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

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek at Hooked On You

  Chapter 2

  Other Books By Marie

  About the Author

  COPYRIGHT

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  Published by Marie York

  Copyright May 2015

  Cover Photo by PawelSierak

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Chapter 1

  Two years ago

  Kennedy

  There was only one thing I wanted for my sixteenth birthday. It was nothing my parents’ money could buy either. No. What I wanted didn’t come in a box or from a store. I was no longer a child, and tonight, for my birthday I would get Beckham Fox.

  Beckham would undoubtedly be here, just as he had been every night since he and my brother became friends four years ago. In less than a month, they would both be off to college, and I needed to make my move now.

  I looked in the mirror, admiring the sexy pink bra and panties I bought for this very occasion. My breasts, while not as big as I wanted them to be, looked hot pushed up against the lacy material. Bronzer accented the small swells and gave me a pretty glow. I ran my fingers through my blonde hair, twisting the bottoms to give it a slight curl.

  I stood a little taller—confidence looked good on me—before sliding into my favorite summer dress. The same one I noticed Beckham do a double take at only a few weeks ago.

  Having Beckham as my boyfriend would be the ultimate dream come true. But I was realistic. He was two-and-a-half years older than me, on his way to college, and I was still a junior in high school. There was no way he’d want a relationship. So, I was going to give him what I knew he wanted.

  Sex.

  And, it wasn’t just what he wanted either. I wanted it too. My virginity was the only thing in my way. Mom had the talk with me not too long ago, telling me my virginity was special. Something I needed to treasure and be careful with because I could only give it away once. Which is why, I chose Beckham.

  A smile settled across my face and I thought about the moment he’d figure out that I wanted to give him the ultimate gift on my birthday. He would be flattered, and stare into my soul with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his, and then he’d lay me on the bed and make love to me.

  “Kennedy, dinner’s almost ready,” Mom yelled from downstairs.

  I dabbed my lips with a little more gloss, air kissed my reflection and ran downstairs. I followed the delicious scent of barbeque outside to the patio.

  Mom set the table while Dad finished getting the steaks onto a plate. The yard was decorated for my party tomorrow, with pink and silver balloons along the pool gate. I couldn’t wait to tell my girlfriends about my greatest gift of all.

  I scanned the yard, searching for Beckham.

  “Mom, where’s Nixon and Beckham?” I made sure to use my brother’s name first to make it less suspicious. The last thing I needed was Mom to figure out my little plan.

  “Ran to the store to get your orange soda. Can you go inside, and get me the napkins, please?”

  “Sure.” I turned around and headed back to the house. While I was in there, I’d detour to my bedroom and reapply my lip gloss. I wanted it to be fresh when I finally saw Beckham.

  Just the thought of him had me skipping through the living room. I spun around the bend into the kitchen and slammed smack dab into his hard chest. My hand rested against his stomach and the ridges of his muscles flexed beneath my touch. His scent floated around me in a dizzying breeze. Aftershave and cologne that was refreshing, yet masculine. I ran my hand up his abs and relaxed my fingers against the curve of his pec.

  “Beckham,” I whispered, glancing up, and locking eyes with the most gorgeous man alive. His dirty blond hair fell across his forehead, and it took all that I had not to reach up and swipe it back in place.

  His fingers wrapped around my hand, and I warmed at the contact. I swallowed down the desire to lift myself on tiptoes and touch my lips to his.

  He smiled, and I was happy he was holding my hand because my knees weakened at the sight.

  “You need to be more careful, Kenny,” he said, calling me by the nickname he gave me, which I was seriously growing to dislike. It put me in the category as one of his boys, and I didn’t want to be grouped with them. I wanted him to see me as Kennedy, a girl he couldn’t resist.

  And tonight, he would.

  ***

  Throughout dinner, I did my best to keep my eyes off Beckham, but when a man that hot was so close, it was near impossible. At one point our eyes met, locked and I swear birds began to sing, but then my brother, the buzzkill, shot me a look and the beautiful moment was ruined.

  After dinner, I went back to my room, and waited to make my move. The water turned off, so I knew Mom was done with the dishes. Pretty soon, she and Dad would cuddle up on the couch to watch their typical Friday night movie before they both passed out halfway through.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I peeked out my door. Nix and Beckham passed by on the way to Nix’s room just as I knew they would. I closed my door, and went over to my mirror, checking my hair and makeup.

  I spritzed a little perfume on my neck, before sitting on my bed and I waited. Minutes turned to hours, and I was just about to give up, when I heard the unmistakable creak of Nix’s bedroom door. I jumped and took a deep breath to calm my racing heart.

 
; I flung my door open just as Beckham passed by. “Beckham, thank god.” I grabbed my chest and channeled my inner drama queen. I jabbed a finger toward my room, my hand quivering in panic. “There’s a spider on my wall. It’s huge. Can you kill it? Please?” I squirmed and pouted my lip, knowing he wouldn’t turn down this fake damsel in distress.

  He laughed and adorable smile lines formed around his mouth. “Sure. Show me where this monster of a spider is.”

  I stood back, and he took confident strides into my room.

  “It’s right there in the corner.” I eased the door shut, careful not to let it click into place too loudly.

  I turned around and pressed my back against the door Beckham didn’t notice too consumed in his search for the killer spider.

  “I don’t see it.” He leaned to the side, glancing behind the corkboard on my wall. “Are you sure it wasn’t a shadow?”

  It was now or never. I pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. The material pooled around my feet, and I took another deep breath as I stepped out of my dress completely.

  “I guess it got away.”

  Beckham turned at the breathy tone in my voice, and when his eyes settled on my almost naked body, they widened with shock.

  His lips moved, but no words came out. He stepped back, bumping into my dresser, and knocking over a picture frame of my family and me. Noises started to come out of his mouth, but every syllable on his tongue failed to form a word.

  I moved toward him, and he pushed further into my dresser until his back was a stiff arch.

  “There’s only one thing I want for my birthday,” I purred, moving closer and creeping my fingers up his rock-hard chest. “You.”

  His hands wrapped around my fingers, but instead of the gentle touch from earlier, it was rough and rigid. “Kennedy, no. This can’t happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “There’s a million reasons. But I’ll start with number one. Your brother is right there.” He pointed to the wall. “If he caught us, he would murder me.”

  “He doesn’t have to know.” I leaned in, taking charge, and pressed my lips to his. They were just as soft as I imagined. I could detect the faintest taste of beer and finally knew what he and Nixon did every night.

  Beckham didn’t react. He stood there, refusing to kiss me back, so I swiped my tongue across his seam, matching his refusal with my own stubborn determination.

  His grip on my fingers loosened, and I could feel his resolve waning. I nipped at his lip and his hands grabbed my cheeks. Satisfaction filled me as he plunged his tongue against mine.

  I had kissed boys before, but nothing compared to this sensual assault of my mouth.

  A soft moan rumbled up my throat, and I laced my fingers through his hair, tugging at the soft strands, and pulling him closer. He dropped his grip on my face, wrapping his large hand around my tiny, bare waist, and yanking me tight against him.

  It was everything I had dreamed about and more. Beckham Fox was actually kissing me back. I relished in his touch, the way our tongues moved effortlessly against each other, and how perfectly I fit pressed against his body. His arousal was evident by the hard bulge pressing into my belly.

  I reached down to his belt buckle, eager to undo it, and to get a closer look and feel of his engorged manhood when he jerked his lips from mine.

  “No!” he barked as he rested his forehead against mine, gasping for breath.

  “Why not?” I insisted, reaching past his belt, and down to the huge bulge in his pants.

  He swallowed hard, and I knew he would give in to the unyielding attraction I knew was between us. He couldn’t deny it any longer. We were meant to be.

  “Make love to me,” I whispered against his ear.

  His grasp on my waist tightened, but instead of pulling me close, he pushed me away.

  “No,” he said, but this time there was no question in his tone. He was stone cold serious.

  He was kidding. He had to be. This felt so right; it was almost perfect. “What do you mean no?”

  “I mean no. We can’t do this. I should never have even let it get this far.”

  I looked down at my lacy pink bra and panties and tried to keep the tears at bay. “Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

  His gorgeous hazel eyes softened and hope flickered inside of me. I stood there, waiting for him to tell me how beautiful I was. Despite my desire to look as sexy as possible, I shifted awkwardly.

  The softness in Beckham’s eyes vanished, and his cold resolve returned. The room, while a moment ago was scorching hot, now felt like the center of Antarctica.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re a child.” His eyes looked over me like I was too insignificant for him to acknowledge. “Get dressed and never do that again.”

  His words cut deep and my heart shattered into a thousand tiny shards.

  My hands shot up to cover my body, but there were not enough hands and too much skin. I snatched my dress from the floor and yanked it over my head.

  “Get out,” I managed through the hot thick lump of embarrassment clogging my throat.

  “Kenny,” he sighed.

  Hearing that nickname only fueled the angry fire building inside of me. “I said get out,” I growled through my teeth, afraid if I parted my lips, I would scream. “Now!” I flung my finger to the door and refused to look at him. I didn’t need to see the pity in his eyes.

  Beckham threw his hands in the air and backed away from me. I grabbed the comforter off my bed and wrapped it around myself, wanting to disappear.

  “I’m sorry,” he said before leaving.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, the disappointment and utter humiliation consumed me, and I fell to the floor into a sobbing mess of regret.

  Chapter 2

  Present Day

  Kennedy

  I waved goodbye to Erica, my roommate, and headed off to campus. It was my first day attending college classes, and I was pumped. Ever since Nix left for college, home had become boring and lonely. Dad worked more hours, and Mom was involved in so many charities that I felt like I lived alone in our big house.

  Now, I was actually on my own, and ready to start with a fresh slate. I could do anything and be anyone I wanted because here nobody knew me. I hitched my bag onto my shoulder and walked along the path that would bring me to the coffee cart. If I was going to be a new me, I needed my caffeine fix first.

  I inhaled the fresh-cut grass, and smiled up at the tall trees, excited to see how my new home would look come fall: bright, beautiful, and exploding with color I imagined, and I couldn’t wait.

  There was a line at the coffee cart, but, luckily, I still had a good twenty minutes before I had to be seated in class. I people watched while I waited. A guy too busy looking at his phone nearly collided with a girl and barely lifted an eye when she stumbled back to avoid him. A couple made out under a tree to my left, and a pang of jealousy flared in my gut.

  That had been what I always wanted. Someone to spend time with in between classes, who would kiss me with wild abandon, like we were the only two people on the planet, without a thought or care about who was watching. Most of all, I wished I had a special someone who would stand in this damn line with me.

  Unfortunately, my luck in the guy department had been pretty shitty, and I was sick of looking. Besides, it was my first year of college. I didn’t need a relationship. All I wanted was a guy who could provide a good time when I craved it. Nothing more. I had a feeling that wouldn’t be hard to find.

  The girl in front of me took her coffee, and I stepped up to the cart.

  “Good morning,” I greeted the guy who was wearing a yellow polo and a green apron. The name tag pinned to the top said Jimmy. “Can I get a large coffee…”

  “One sugar and skim,” A familiar voice floated across my ear and my heart leapt out of my chest. I swore something was pressing against my windpipe because I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t confirm that one
sugar and skim was the exact way I took my coffee.

  It had been six months since I had heard that voice, but it was for only a brief moment, before I locked myself in my room and hid. We crossed paths a fair amount of times over the past couple of years, but the humiliation never left, and I avoided any attempt Beckham made to speak to me. The last time I actually spoke to him was the night he rejected me. The night my girlhood fantasies came crashing down around me.

  Embarrassment or pride, whatever it was, left me with no desire to see him or speak to him. But now, I was helpless as I stared into those beautiful hazel eyes mesmerized by how amazing he looked. He was older and hotter—if that was even possible—with scruff and he was completely rocking a man bun. Be still my ovaries.

  “Hi Kenny.” He winked, and it snapped me out of my trance.

  I was a college girl now. No longer the sad, pathetic sixteen-year-old child he rejected that dreadful night. I refused to be embarrassed anymore. Refused to let my past define who I was now. That girl was long gone.

  I straightened, keeping my eyes locked on Beckham’s. “Hi Becky.”

  A ridiculously large smile spread across his perfect face, and I turned back to the guy in the yellow polo before I melted into a pathetic puddle. That girl might have been long gone, but not even the new me could be immune to Beckham’s smile. It was sinisterly good.

  He nudged my shoulder, sparking an explosion of fireworks inside me. “Nice to see someone found her sense of humor.”

  “Nice to see someone still doesn’t know how to shut up,” I spat.

  Jimmy placed my coffee on the cart. His eyes glanced between Beckham and I. “Uh, that’ll be a dollar fifty.” I reached in my pocket for the money, but Beckham beat me to it, handing over a crisp five-dollar bill.

  I let out an exaggerated sigh and grabbed my coffee. I didn’t wait for Beckham to get his change. I had nothing to say to him and just because he paid for my coffee didn’t mean I was obligated to either, so I took off toward my first class.

  “Hey, wait up.” Beckham jogged up beside me. “I buy you your caffeine fix, and this is how you repay me?”

  I stopped dead then spun to face him. “First of all, I don’t need you buying my coffee. Secondly, why are you even here? Last I checked, you went to school on the other side of the country.”