Bad Boys of BDSM Omnibus No. 1

  Bad Boys of BDSM

  Omnibus No. 1

  Anita Lawless, Leigh Foxlee & C.J. Sneere

  Copyright © 2014 Anita Lawless, Leigh Foxlee & C.J. Sneere

  Published by Wild & Lawless Writers

  http://wildlawlesswriters.blogspot.com/

  All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be distributed, shared, resold, posted online, or reproduced in any electronic or hard copy form.

  This ebook is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. This ebook contains adult content and is intended for a mature readership. All sexual scenarios depicted in this ebook occur between consenting adults over 18 years of age.

  Cover art design by Wild & Lawless Writers.

  The photo on the cover comes from a royalty free images section of a photo stock site. It is used here under a royalty-free license. The writer, publisher, and cover designer claim no rights to the original photo. Photographer and model have no affiliation with the author, cover designer, or publisher, and use of this photo does not suggest in any way that the model or photographer endorse the author’s work.

  This omnibus includes:

  Bad Boy Werewolf: Bad Boys of BDSM Vol. 1 (MF)

  Bonus Story: Waking Up Werewolf Part 1 (MM)

  Claimed by the Bad Boy: Bad Boys of BDSM Vol. 2 (MF with ménage scenes)

  Bonus Story: Jack & James (Jack The Lad Part 2. MMMMMMM)

  Bad Boy Biker: Bad Boys of BDSM Vol. 3 (MM with ménage scenes)

  Bonus Story: Barista Boys (MM)

  Bonus Excerpts

  All stories have a scorching to extreme heat level.

  ***

  Bad Boy Werewolf

  Bad Boys of BDSM Volume 1

  By Leigh Foxlee

  Chapter 1

  Let’s get one thing straight up front. I never planned to be Princess Charming to a troubled alpha male former lead singer sensation who brought problems with him everywhere he went. Hell, I never expected to see Noah Wilder, ex-frontman of our band No Mercy, ever again, and I was sure he was dead.

  That is until about seventeen minutes ago, when he stumbled into my dressing room and collapsed at me feet.

  At first, I didn’t recognize him. His straight, black hair is longer than when he disappeared that night, after our gig in the Commodore Ballroom. He’s got a beard now, and his skin is paler than before, plus he’s lost some weight, which makes his features leaner, sharper, than they used to be. He looks like he’s been through a rough time while he’s been away, and my head is filled with questions for him. The most insistent one being, “Why did you leave me—us?”

  I wouldn’t have known it was him still, but as he fell to the floor he croaked out my name, “Merry.”

  Well, that’s the shortened version of it. Everyone calls me Merry, but my full handle is Meredith Sledge. I know, what an old fashioned name, right? Mom gave me the handle to honor the grandmother I never knew. I’m the former lead guitarist turned lead singer/bassist for No Mercy, and up until a year and a half ago Noah and I were together. Mom isn’t Noah’s biggest fan, considering I left college to join his band. She wanted me to have a promising career as a history teacher. Follow in her footsteps. But I decided to be a rock star instead.

  Noah stepped off the stage one night and completely vanished. Just as No Mercy was rocketing toward success and after we’d signed a deal with a major independent label, our lead singer disappeared. Some said he couldn’t handle the pressure of impending stardom, others speculated murder, and all sorts of wild rumors flew. I was left with a broken heart, grieving with the other band members, who also voted me as our new lead singer. Pressure x 11!

  It’s been a wild year and a half. By the looks of it, for both of us. We have a lot of catching up to do.

  “Noah?” I nudge his wrist with the toe of my Skechers.

  “It’s me.” His voice is still a rough whisper.

  “I never thought I’d see you again!” I slide from the chair where I was doing my makeup and get to my knees beside the fallen giant.

  “I’m back.”

  “I can see that.”

  I touch his soft, snarled hair and a jolt of remembrance shoots through me. Memories of how many times we’ve been alone in dressing rooms just like this flit through my mind. Memories where our positions were shifted, sometimes with me bent over the makeup counter…

  I shake those thoughts from my head and press my palm to the middle of his back. “Do you need help sitting up?”

  He braces his big hands on the tiles beneath him. “No, I’m good.”

  But seconds later his arms give out and he’s flat on his face again. I hook my hands under his armpits and maneuver to help him sit. Once he’s upright, his hazel eyes stare into mine and he mumbles thanks.

  I hold his stare. “Where have you been? We all thought you were dead!”

  He rubs the back of his head, looks away. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you what I can. Right now, I just really want to sleep.” Sighing, he runs a long fingered hand down his face.

  But sleep isn’t coming anytime soon for Noah because Rita, No Mercy’s drummer, just walked in, and she’s stopped with her back pressed against the closed door. “Who’s this?” She gives me a look, then her gaze darts to Noah.

  He gazes up at her. “Hey Rita.” A crooked smile tugs at his lips. “How’s life?”

  “Noah Wilder!” she screams loud enough for half the auditorium to hear. “You’ve got a shitload of explaining to do!”

  “I missed you too,” he quips.

  “Where have you been?” She slaps him on the shoulder as he gets up and walks toward a chair. He grunts as he sits down.

  “The question of the day,” I mutter.

  “It would take a week of talking to tell you everything.” His eyes are bloodshot and his lids look heavy from lack of sleep. “I can barely keep my eyes open.” He looks at me, then to Rita, who stands in front of him with her hands on her hips, tapping her toe . “I’m sorry I abandoned the band. It wasn’t in my plans, but I kinda got ambushed.”

  “So you’re coming back to the band, right?” Rita beams. “Not that Merry isn’t an awesome singer, but—”

  “No! I’m avoiding the spotlight.” Noah’s jaw clenches and unclenches.

  Rita gives me a confused look, which I return.

  “But you were the face of No Mercy!” she protests.

  “Merry is an awesome singer. Your words” he says, scratching his thick beard as he does so.

  “Pretty awesome, actually,” I say. “But I’d like to go back to lead guitar. I prefer playing second string to being the main focus.” I shrug. “That way, when I go after world domination, no one will suspect me.”

  Noah chuckles and gives a sad smile. “Keep being the focus. I’m through with singing. But I would like to work with the band again. Just behind the scenes this time.”

  I give him a curious frown. “Behind the scenes?”

  “Yup. I’m gonna be your roadie.”

  “But the other roadies will recognize you,” Rita says.

  Noah raises an eyebrow at her. “Did you recognize me?”

  She holds up her hands, sighs. “Fine. I still think it’s a bad idea.”

  I put a hand on his jean-clad thigh and give it a squeeze. “We’re just happy to have you back.”

  I notice Rita looking at my hand, and I also notice her mischievous smirk. “Well, I’ll let you two catch up. I need to find our sound engineer.”

  “Who’s playing lead guitar now if Merry gave it up?” Noah suddenly asks.

  Rita turns and her eyes hold a wicked green gleam. “Oh,
Andre took over lead guitar. Rumor has it he also hooked up with our lead singer, but you might want to ask Merry about that.”

  “Rita!” I shout after her retreating, redhead self. I love my best friend, but she has a tendency for gossip and troublemaking at the worst possible times.

  “You’re with Andre?” Noah’s voice holds a thread of hurt and anger.

  I give him a desperate glance. “I thought you were dead! I waited for over six months. I believed you were still alive even when everyone else thought you were worm food. But…”

  “But you decided to crawl into bed with my best friend,” he snarls.

  “You could’ve picked up a damn phone,” I yell in return. “Could’ve let me know you were all right somehow. Do you know how many sleepless nights I spent wondering, worrying? And what about now? You fall back into my life, literally, and won’t tell me anything.”

  He holds up his hands. “Fine. Sorry.” His chest expands with a deep exhale. “I guess we’re even.” Then he pins me with eyes so full of pain the gaze sucker punches me in the gut. “I hope you two are happy.”

  I have to look away from the raw pain he shows me. “Sure, yeah, we are. Andre’s a great guy.”

  “Yeah.” He lets the air go and he sags in his chair. “He is.”

  Silence moves in thick and heavy between us. It almost chokes me, and I’m relieved when the door opens again, but that relief flees and my stomach sinks to my toes when the object of our conversation walks in.

  “Noah, holy shit!” Andre boyish face lights up. His blue-grey eyes sparkle. “Buddy, I can’t believe you’re alive!”

  He runs in the room and gives Noah’s shoulder a hearty shake, as if he’s ensuring our ex-lead singer isn’t just a figment of his imagination.

  “Surprised you’re happy to see me.” Noah glares up at Andre.

  Tension flutters low in my stomach and my gaze darts between the two men.

  Andre draws back, wearing a confused frown. “What’d you mean?”

  Noah scoffs. “Sounds like you didn’t wait too long to move in on Merry after I left.”

  Andre looks at me.

  “Hey, I wanted to wait to break it to him.” I hold up my hands. “Rita has a big mouth.”

  Andre rolls his eyes. “I should’ve known.” He gives Noah a sympathetic gaze. “Look, you were gone a long time…”

  “And it just sorta happened,” I add, trying to help Andre out. “We both thought you were dead.”

  “So you keep saying.” Noah stands and moves closer to Andre, so they are almost nose to nose.

  I squish myself between them, making space before they go all gronk on me. “I told you I waited six months.” I say this to Noah, trying to keep my tone soft as I once more deliver the blow. “Hell, Noah, I’m human. Me and Andre… we grew close through our grief.”

  Andre nods to confirm my words.

  Noah glares at us both, then his face softens with obvious sadness. “I’m not gonna pretend I like it, or that I’m okay with it, but I wish you both the best.” He gives Andre a brief handshake and then limps out of my dressing room. Before he disappears, he throws over his shoulder, “So where can a former rockstar get some sleep around here?”

  “Hey,” Andre says. “You can crash in my room. But you gotta fill me in first.”

  I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow. “Let him rest up. We’ve already been bugging him about his story.” To Noah, I say, “But when the concert’s over tonight, you are so filling us in.”

  His face goes tense, his lips thin. “I’ll tell you what I can.”

  ***

  Chapter 2

  The concert is a blast and we perform two more songs for an encore. The sun is coming up when we finally rip into some nachos Rita makes backstage in her dressing room. Andre brings the beer. Noah is just waking up as we once more assault him with demands for answers.

  “So where have you been?” Rita says before popping a cheese drenched chip in her mouth.

  Noah raises his shoulders then lets them droop. He gives a prolonged sigh. “It’s complicated.”

  “Were you kidnapped?” I ask.

  His hazel eyes pin me. “There are these … people. I met them back when we were still playing small gigs. They thought I owed them something, but I was paid in full. They decided they wanted more. But I managed to escape, and here I am.”

  “That’s cryptic. What, are you running from the Mafia?” I take a mouthful of beer as Noah pins me with another glare.

  “That’s all I can give you.”

  “Noah, if you’re in trouble,” Rita puts a hand on his wrist, “let us help you. And we can’t do that if you keep secrets.”

  He gives her a look that shows gratitude for her concern. “What I’m involved in, no one can help me with. Trust me.” His pleading gaze scans all of us.

  “Okay, buddy,” Andre says, holding out his fist for a knuckle bump from Noah. “We’ll leave your secrets alone, for now. You need your space. We get it.”

  “Thanks.” Noah gives an appreciative smile.

  I chew my bottom lip, hating that Andre is essentially making us all give up on this subject, and way too easily in my opinion. But I’ll let it rest for tonight at least.

  A knock comes at the door then our weary looking manager, Regina Tyler, walks in. Her hair is a disheveled mess of sable curls and the buttons on her sequined blouse are mismatched. I wonder who she got lucky with last night. She does that a lot lately. Disappears after a concert, but I never see who with. I think she’s scooping up all our male groupies, much to Rita’s disappointment.

  She opens her mouth to speak, but then notices Noah and frowns. “Who’s this?”

  “New roadie,” I blurt, and the others nod their head in agreement. We can’t tell Regina it’s Noah just yet, or she’ll demand he go back to being the face of No Mercy. Better to wait and break it to her gently. That and the fact Noah doesn’t want to sing ever again. She’s going to have a fit when she finds out.

  She chews on a well manicured nail and keeps staring at Noah. “You look really familiar.”

  Andre jumps up and looks at Noah. “Hey, I need you to check out those cables I was telling you about. I almost forgot.”

  Noah appears relieved by the quick excuse to leave the room. He simply nods at Andre and gets up, keeping his head low as the two exit.

  “Cables?” Regina says. “What cables?”

  “Long story.” Rita offers Regina a chair. “What’s up?”

  Regina’s confused expression is wiped away by one of pure excitement. “I just booked you all a prime gig. I’m talking major bucks, but it’s a smaller venue. Very exclusive.” She sits and plucks a nacho from the massive plate sitting in the center of the coffee table.

  “Where at?” Rita and I say in unison.

  “Details!” Rita demands.

  Regina leans over and speaks in a conspiratorial whisper, “Have you ever heard of Night Glamour? It’s a club run by some very rich, very elusive people. Old money that’s been in the city forever, or so I’m told.”

  “And we got a gig there?” My heart speeds up and I swallow down anxiety.

  Regina nods. “Wait’ll you see this place.” She takes out her smartphone and pulls up a picture of the club, which she shows me and Rita.

  It’s decorated in art deco style, with long windows filling up most of its charcoal grey front. A neon purple sign above a silver door reads “Night Glamour.”

  “I went there once with a guy who worked as a bouncer there,” Regina says. “You’ll love it. The club is themed, so everyone that goes there has to dress up like their favorite monster before you can get in.”

  “How cool!” Being a huge fan of monster since I was little, this thrills me.

  Mom and I used to stay up late every weekend when I was a kid to watch 80s horror. She introduced me to such classics as Fright Night and Freddy Krueger.

  “We gotta go find Andre and tell him,” I say. “He’ll think this is the sh
it.”

  The three of us make our way past the small road crew as they put away our stage gear. Andre and Noah are nowhere to be seen backstage, but we find Andre just outside his dressing room, alone. I exhale my relief, since the last thing we need is Regina catching on to Noah’s true identity.

  “Hey, sweetie.” I hook an arm through Andre’s. “Regina has amazing news! Guess who wants to book us?”

  “Who?” He looks at her with wide blue eyes and slides his arm around my waist.

  Regina jumps on the spot in her excitement. “Night Glamour! They want you to play there next weekend.”

  He looks confused. “What’s Night Glamour?”

  Regina gasps in obvious shock and lightly slaps him. “You’re kidding me? It’s only the most exclusive club in the city. All the biggest acts have played there. Jack White, Lady Gaga, Amy Winehouse. This could lead to all sorts of breaks for No Mercy. Seriously.”

  He shrugs. “If it’s a good opportunity, I’m all for it.”

  “Cool!” Regina still looks a little disgusted by his lack of savvy when it comes to Cosmo City’s night life. “I booked you for Friday and Saturday night.”

  “Two concerts in a row again?” Rita whines.

  “Oh come on.” Regina waves her off. “When my Uncle Devin was touring back in the 80s, he and Onslaught would go a month straight without a break. Don’t be a wimp.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Rita rolls her eyes.

  Whenever Regina wants to motivate us, she pulls out old stories about her Uncle Devin, a drummer in a legendary metal band known as Onslaught. They’d toured the world back in the days of big concerts and even bigger hair. Regina tells us we kids have it easy these days, even though she’s only two years older than us.

  “Well I can’t wait,” I say, which further annoys my best friend. “Monsters and garage rock. Two of my favorite things in the world.”

  Oh, yeah, did I mention we’re a garage rock band with a retro style? That’s our thing, and so far it’s working for us.

  Once Regina gives us a few more details and promises to text us the rest of the information later, we part ways and head home, Good, cause I’ve exhausted.

  “Hey, little lady.” Andre sidles up beside me. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” He tucks his hand in the back pocket of my jeans.