Hellfire: A Dark Romance

By: Nicole Fox

He’s as hot as hellfire – and dangerous as sin.

Gunner Wilson is the human equivalent of a motorcycle – loud, dirty, and built to ride all night long.

He’s spent a night with damn near every girl in Texas.

Well, every girl except me.

I’m new in town, but I haven’t even been here for a full day before Gunner saunters over and starts tempting me towards his bed.

He’s hot as hell and I’m dripping wet just looking at him…

But I’m not that type of girl.

Silly me.

I might as well have just slept him.

But how was I to know the truth?

That, in just a little while, I’d be married to the bastard…

And pregnant with his baby.

Chapter One

“You’re killing me, Gunner.” The woman in the white tank top ran a hand through her thick, platinum blonde curls and stuck her ample chest out a little. “Sure you can’t just patch it?”

Cam “Gunner” Wilson straightened to his full height of six-foot four inches, forcing his gaze up from the woman’s chest to her face again. He wiped his hands on a greasy rag and then flashed the woman — Peggy? Patty? Something with a P — a grin. “Gotta be replaced. That crack’s too deep and too wide. The whole thing could fall in on you if you so much as hit a pothole.”

Her expression was exaggeratedly horrified. “Jesus. How much is it gonna run me?”

Gunner leaned against the woman’s bright yellow Mustang, broad, tattooed arms folded across his chest. He glanced at the web of cracks in the windshield. “Depends. Anywhere from two hundred to a thousand.” He could feel Durango eyeing him. They’d never done a windshield replacement for more than four hundred.

The woman sucked in a breath, and Gunner met her pretty blue eyes once more. He recalled a wild night last year — the two of them, half drunk, fully loaded, soaking her twelve hundred thread-count sheets in their mutual sweat. “Shit.”

He tossed the rag aside. “Tell you what. I’ll try my damnedest to make sure you’re not looking at more than three hundred.”

Peggy-Patty’s face positively lit up. “Omigod, Gunner, that would be incredible.” She had a hot smile—full lips stretching back to reveal gleaming white teeth. Gunner almost wished he could recall the details of their encounter. Had those straight, perfect teeth latched onto his skin? Had her long pink nails raked down his back? Had she screamed his name? Probably. They all did.

She couldn’t seem to keep her gaze off his chest. His once-white sleeveless shirt was smeared with oil stains and clinging to him with the Texas humidity and was ripped in strategic places to show his ink.

He heard Durango snort, and tossed the fucker a glare.

He grinned back at the woman, unable to resist the temptation to flirt, even with a woman he’d already bedded. Hell, looking at her now, he was almost tempted to go in for round two. Except that wasn’t the way he played. And anyhow, she was a bit older than he liked them — had a kid who was in high school, he remembered suddenly, so she was likely in her late thirties. Still, she’d been a tiger in bed. Probably had some flabby-gutted loser of a husband who couldn’t give her an orgasm. Gunner was recalling more details—the way those firm, round breasts had bounced as she’d ridden him. Those legs that went on for days. His own deep growl as he came inside her…

Shit, he really was hard up if he was thinking about pissing on the same tree twice. But he’d made it with every available woman in this town. If Romedo didn’t get some fresh blood soon, he was gonna have to start going back for seconds.


Shit, she’d been saying something, and he hadn’t been paying a lick of attention.


“I’d really like to say thank you for this.” She nodded at the Mustang. “Maybe a drink sometime?”

Ah, shit. “Maybe sometime,” he agreed casually.

“You still have my number?”

Not a chance. “Sure. I’ll call you.”

“All right.” She winked at him. “Looking forward to it.”

He nodded, pulling a battered pack of Camels from the pocket of his worn jeans. He stuck a cigarette between his lips and tipped his head toward the car. “We’ll need a couple of days to replace that windshield. You got a ride home?”

“A friend’s picking me up. Well … more of an acquaintance. My new neighbor has a daughter — lovely young lady. We just met yesterday when she was moving in. She agreed to pick me up if the car had to stay in the shop.”

A lovely young lady, huh? How young we talkin’? He dug out his lighter and lit the cigarette.

Gunner didn’t go in for barely legal, but twenty and over, and he’d have to figure out a way to meet this girl. “New in town? Or just new to your neighborhood?”

“New in town. The father doesn’t say much, but he’s nice enough. The daughter — I get the impression she’s a bit lonely. Certainly was eager to talk to me.”

“She in school?” A neutral enough question. If Peggy-Patty was like,Yes, she’s finishing her junior year at MacArthur High, Gunner would know to quit sniffing around. But if this ‘young lady’ was at the University … fair game.