Naughty Nelle Read online

  NAUGHTY NELLE

  NELLE L’AMOUR

  NAUGHTY NELLE

  A delicious taste of the sizzling books New York Times Bestselling Author, Nelle L’Amour, will have FREE! in Kindle Unlimited this summer.

  Meet scorchin’ hot bad boy Blake Burns, Hollywood heartthrob Brandon Taylor, cocky alpha Drake Hanson, sexy, single parent billionaire Ari Golden, and swoon-worthy donut mogul, Owen King. This steamy anthology includes:

  * BABY DADDY: Special 12-Chapter Preview

  * UNFORGETTABLE: Special 18-Chapter Preview

  * THAT MAN 1: Complete book

  * TRAINWRECK: Complete Book

  * The Big O: 3-Chapter Preview

  Also included is Nelle’s full-length standalone novel, DEWITCHED. Who on earth is naughtier than the Evil Queen? Find out how she gets her happily ever after in this humorous and romantic 5-Star fairy-tale retelling of Snow White.

  SPECIAL BONUS: You will also get a sneak peek of ENDLESS LOVE, the highly anticipated sequel to Nelle’s critically acclaimed international bestseller, UNDYING LOVE.

  AND when you’re done reading, don’t forget to visit NAUGHTY NELLE’S TOY STORE, where you can purchase many of the fun, adult products featured in her books.

  Get naughty! And be prepared to laugh, cry, and swoon!

  Copyright © 2017 by Nelle L’Amour

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved

  First Edition: July 2017

  This collection is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental.

  No part of this ebook may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this ebook at the authorized online outlets.

  Nelle L’Amour thanks you for your understanding and support.

  To join my mailing list for new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up here:

  NEWSLETTER: nellelamour.com/newsletter

  Cover by Arijana Karcic, Cover It! Designs

  Formatting by BB eBooks

  For all my Belles who dare to be naughty.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About the Anthology

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  BABY DADDY PREVIEW

  About Baby Daddy

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  UNFORGETTABLE PREVIEW

  About Unforgettable

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  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

  THAT MAN 1

  About THAT MAN 1

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  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

  TRAINWRECK 1

  About TRAINWRECK 1

  Copyright Page

  A Note from Nelle

  Epigraph

  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

  THE BIG O PREVIEW

  About The Big O

  Copyright Page

  Note from Nelle

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  ENDLESS LOVE SNEAK PEEK

  About Endless Love

  Copyright Page

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  DEWITCHED

  About Dewitched

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Book One

  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

  Book 2

  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

  Note from Nelle

  Books by Nelle L’Amour

  About the Author

  If you can’t be good, be good at it.

  —Anonymous

  BABY DADDY PREVIEW

  NELLE L’AMOUR

  ABOUT

  A new STANDALONE romantic comedy from the New York Times Bestselling author of THAT MAN and UNFORGETTABLE.

  I have three cardinal rules:

  Never mix business with pleasure

  Never let a woman spend the night.

  Never date a woman with kids.

  Kids freak me out. God only knows how many this baby daddy has. Man, what was I thinking when I was in college? Me, Drake Hanson. God’s gift to women. Aka Donor 5262. It was a piece of cake and fifteen hundred dollars a month for my deposits (in sperm bank speak) came in handy. Wank, bank, and go. I just didn’t think about the consequences. One day, some kid is going to call me Daddy and I’m going to get hit up for child support. Big time.

  Now, my father is pressuring me to settle down because the investor who
’s looking to acquire his animation company doesn’t want a player running a family-oriented business. Just in time, she came along. The temp. Dee Walker. The minute the hot as sin brunette with her killer curves and those chocolate brown eyes stepped foot in my office and saved me from an ugly disaster with her magic hands, I wanted her to be mine. Except she’s totally off limits. And there’s someone else she loves with all her heart and soul that I can’t replace.

  Can my temp become my forever before my past catches up with me? I’m willing to break all the rules.

  Copyright © 2017 by Nelle L’Amour

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved

  First Edition: April 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be re-produced in any form or by any means without prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  In memory of my beautiful baby girl, Luna.

  I will always love you.

  Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice.

  —Zoltar

  PROLOGUE

  Drake

  Ten Years Earlier

  “Hi, handsome.”

  “Hi, gorgeous,” I replied with a wink. Constance, the buxom blond receptionist, was far from gorgeous, but I sure knew how to charm her. Minoring in What a Woman Wants had its benefits. A big smile lit up her face.

  “Sheila will take you back to Room 2.”

  “Nah, it’s okay. I know the routine.” Sheila was her recently divorced co-worker with the spray tan and fake boobs. I knew she had a thing for me. Except I didn’t have a thing for her and fooling around with the staff was definitely a no-no.

  Swinging open the heavy door that led to my destination, I walked down a short corridor, past several administration offices, marveling at how many times I’d walked this path before. I did some mental calculations—I’d frequented this place three times a week regularly for the past four years. So, that was over five hundred times. By now, I could walk to infamous Room 2 with my eyes closed.

  Room 2 was at the very end of the hallway, and when I got there, I cranked open another door. I took in my surroundings. Not a thing had changed from the last time I’d been here two days ago. In fact, nothing had changed since the first time I’d set foot in this room.

  It was small and sterile, a lot like a doctor’s examining room. Except instead of an exam table, there was a TV, a DVD player, a rack of familiar magazines, and a chair covered with a disposable towel and holding a jar labeled with my name. Forcing myself to not overthink the fact that hundreds of dudes had gotten off in this room, I bypassed the porn (at this point, I’d seen the DVDs a hundred times and leafed through every Hustler), grabbed the specimen jar, and sat down in my wanking throne, ready to get to work.

  Setting the jar between my legs, I zipped down my fly and freed my dick. I cast my eyes downward and stared at it. It might be eight inches of limpness now, but in a few strokes, it was going to be ten inches of rock-hard, pulsating magnificence. A smile warmed my lips and pride soared in my heart as I curled my fingers around my already swelling length and aimed it at the jar. I should mention some dudes wore goggles they provided just in case they missed, but me, the hockey player, never missed a goal.

  Call me God’s gift to mankind. Not only was I going to give some childless couple a family, but I was also going to make the world a more beautiful place with my premium genes. These couples deserved the best. They were dropping upwards of $40,000 per child, so it sure as hell well be the Rolls Royce of babies. Not a freak. And man, the lucky kid who got my package.

  It’s good thing I didn’t have a steady girlfriend. The only downside of this job was that I couldn’t have sex for forty-eight hours prior to reporting for active duty. So, I could only hook up a few nights a week. But don’t feel sorry for me. The amount of action I got totally compensated for my days off.

  Staring down at my long, thick shaft, my mind wandered. Who should I think about during today’s session? Jasmine? Amber? Carrie?…yeah, she was good. I loved the way she went down on me the other night with that big mouth of hers, taking me to the hilt. Imagining her soft pillowy lips clamped around my rigid length, I began to slide my hand up and down, picking up speed until I was pumping fast and furiously. My eyes squeezed shut, I felt my cock swelling in my palm, the blood rushing to it. In five, four, three, two, one, I had a blast off as I fantasized coming in Carrie’s warm mouth, my load coating her throat. I peeled my eyes open and watched as my jizz dripped down the interior of the jar. Grinning, I screwed on the lid and put it on the shelf where I always did. Baby gravy.

  My fly still down, I headed over to the sink area where I washed up.

  Wank, bank, and go. Tonight, I was going out on the town and was going to fuck my brains out. A couple of hundred dollars would come in handy at the high-end club I was planning to go to and plunk down some big bucks.

  I tucked my spent dick back in my jeans and zipped up my fly. Seriously, jerking off for money was the best damn job in the world.

  But when I graduated this year, my father had other plans for me in the kids’ biz.

  CHAPTER 1

  Drake

  It was the most dreaded day of the year.

  Not Black Friday.

  Not Valentine’s Day.

  Not Tax Day.

  It was fucking Bring Your Kids to Work Day. The third Wednesday in May. God, I hated this day. It wasn’t even nine o’clock and dozens of kids were flocking the halls of Hanson Entertainment, the animation company founded by my father.

  My legendary old man, Orson Hanson, loved this day. Kids were after all what made him a multi-millionaire ten times over. Danger Rangers, the series he created when I was eight, was an overnight sensation. The theme song, “Go, Go, Danger Rangers,” became a national anthem among children and stores couldn’t keep the toys in stock. Now in its second decade, the show was still going strong on Peanuts, the children’s television network owned and operated by Conquest Broadcasting. Over the years, our slate of animated series had expanded and included many other hit series. Approaching the ripe old age of sixty-five, my father was looking to retire…sell the business and achieve what he’d always wanted—to become a billionaire and be ranked among the world’s moguls on the Forbes Top 40 list. No matter whom he sold the company to, he wanted me to continue to run it.

  The kids’ business—not the cartoon kind—had netted me a small fortune too. My old man sent me to UCLA, but he insisted I get a job while I was taking classes. To see what it was like. To build a work ethic and values. And to keep me out of trouble. Dad knew I was a party animal, a lazy son of a bitch, who’d rather screw around than study and who had trouble keeping his pants on. Well, I found the perfect job: Wanking off.

  The minute I saw the ad for “Sperm Donors Wanted” on a bulletin board at the campus coffee shop, I knew I was a shoe in. I went online and filled out the form. I was perfect breeding material. Six feet two inches tall (no shorties or fatsoes wanted), dark, thick hair (no gingers allowed because no one wanted a carrot top), baby blue eyes, and straight as an arrow (sleeping with guys eliminated you immediately). I was healthy and came from a family where almost everyone lived to be a hundred. Plus, I had an amazing skill set—I was athletic, could sing like a rock star, and had a 150 IQ. Okay, I goofed off and my C grades reflected that (I lied and said I had a 5.0 GPA), but the potential was there. Plus, I was hung like a horse. I had no STDs and my specimen past the test with flying colors—getting a higher score than I’d ever gotten on any academic test. My sperm count was worthy of the Guinness Book of Records, their morphology museum-worthy, and the real clincher was my little testicular tadpoles were Olympians that could swim like Michael Phelps.

  The sperm bank was conveniently located in Westwood Village, a few blocks away from the UCLA campus. It was the perfect “job.” I only had to go in two to three times a week, whenever I chose, and it took ten minutes or less to complete the task. An easy peas
y fifteen hundred dollars a month. Not bad for a few hours work. Some called it a sperm bank; but I called it the wank bank. Wank, bank, and go!

  “Be a hero!” proclaimed the home page of the website. “Give a childless family their dream.” Looking back, what the hell was I thinking? My nightmares had started a few years ago right after my best bud, Brock, dragged me to see the Vince Vaughn movie, Delivery Man. Vince played a hapless dude, who, like me, had given batches of his seed to a sperm bank while he was in college. Fast forward several years, the sperm bank was being sued for a shit load of money by the women he impregnated, demanding to know his identity. Had I known what the movie was about, I would have never gone to see it.

  Given how many batches of Donor 5262 (as I was officially known) sperm I deposited (in sperm-bank speak) and had frozen, half the kid population in LA might be some form of mini-me. Okay, I’m exaggerating a little, but still there were likely hundreds, if not thousands. And right here, right now in our studios, a few might be roaming around. Though I didn’t do open donation where the parent and donor mutually agree to let the kid contact and meet you at the age of eighteen, I still constantly felt the inevitable would happen. One day, I would run into a clone of myself and my life would change forever.

  After taking a sip of my coffee and a bite of a glazed donut that I’d purchased at a nearby Donut King on the way into the office, I booted up my computer. The day, filled with one parent-child activity after another, was going to be a total time suck. I had a lot of shit on my plate, including readying a pitch to Conquest Broadcasting, so the last thing I needed was a presentation to all the little brats about the cartoons we produced. Last year was a fucking disaster…one of the kids started throwing his chicken nuggets at me and before long the entire screening room had erupted into a nasty food fight. This year could easily be a repeat. Even worse.

  Studying my calendar and looking less and less forward to the day ahead, I looked up when I heard an unexpected voice.

  “Mister, can you tell me where the bathroom is?”

  My eyes landed on a chubby little boy, wearing shorts and an Astro Camp sweatshirt. Probably eight or nine, he was a freckled carrot top and wore large horn-rimmed glasses that covered most of his pudgy face. His eyes beneath the thick lenses looked glazed.