HIS VIRGIN VESSEL: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (War Cry MC) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  HIS VIRGIN VESSEL: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (War Cry MC) copyright 2017 by Nicole Fox. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

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  Contents

  HIS VIRGIN VESSEL: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (War Cry MC)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  (Bonus 1 of 2) The Hitman’s Child: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Epilogue

  (Bonus 2 of 2) DOM’S BABY: Broken Spires MC

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Books by Nicole Fox

  The Hitman’s Child: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance

  DOM’S BABY: Broken Spires MC

  King’s Baby: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

  Rip’s Baby: Hounds of Hades MC

  Biker’s Baby: Devil’s Wings MC

  Bad Boy’s Toy: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

  Chopper’s Baby: Savage Outlaws MC

  BROKEN ANGEL: Devil’s Route MC

  CAGED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

  AFFLICTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

  HELLFIRE: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

  Bearing His Baby: Fallen Knights MC

  Born Sinner

  Mailing List

  HIS VIRGIN VESSEL: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (War Cry MC)

  By Nicole Fox

  I TOOK THAT NAUGHTY VIRGIN AND F**KED MY BABY INTO HER.

  The police chief took something that belongs to me.

  So I’m going to take what’s most precious to him: his virgin daughter.

  I’m gonna tease her. I’m gonna taste her.

  And then I’m gonna f**k her until she’s heavy with my child.

  I’m not a man you should cross.

  Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth?

  That’s amateur sh*t.

  When someone wrongs me, I don’t just get even.

  I burn everything they love to the ground.

  The pig stole a document that he never should have touched.

  So I do the only thing that’s fair:

  Make his daughter my own.

  It’s not enough just to steal her, or just to seduce her.

  I have to break her completely.

  With every word, every touch, every command,

  I turn the innocent virgin into a c**k-hungry play toy.

  She’s mine now, from top to bottom, inside and out.

  And it won’t be long before she’s on all fours, begging me to put my baby inside of her.

  Chapter One

  Corinne

  There was a particular look that my dad got on his face when he was suspicious of me. It seemed to have been on his face permanently since I turned sixteen.

  "What are you doing here?" he said. Which is how every daughter wants to be greeted by her father when she turns up unannounced.

  "That's a nice way to say hello," I replied, instantly on the defensive.

  "Well," my dad seemed to regret his rudeness and back-pedaled a bit. "It's not that I'm not pleased to see you Corinne—of
course I am, and your sister will be too. It's just that ... it's a bit unexpected, that's all."

  "I thought I'd surprise you," I said. "I didn't expect the third-degree just for coming home for a bit."

  "You're right. I'm sorry. It was just ..."

  "I know. Unexpected."

  "And, in the past, when you have come home unexpectedly ..." Dad left the sentence dangling, but I wasn't in the mood to let him off the hook.

  "What?"

  He sighed and rolled his eyes. "It's always been because you want something. Because you'd gotten yourself into trouble and needed me to bail you out. Literally on one occasion. You know how embarrassing that is for a sheriff? To have to go and get his daughter out of jail? Can you imagine?"

  "Yes. Because you've told me how embarrassing it was once a week ever since. If I ever get married, I imagine that story will be part of your toast at my wedding."

  "Well..."

  "Why do you always have to expect the worst of me?" I decided to go on the offensive.

  "Well ..."

  "Why do you have to take everything I do and make it into something bad? I'm not a complete screw up, you know. I had a couple of free days, and I thought it would be nice to visit my dad and my sister, and before I even get in the door you're accusing me of stuff I didn't do."

  My dad hung his head in shame, and I savored the moment. Of course, that moment wasn't going to last because dad was absolutely right. I had come home because my dumb-ass ex-boyfriend skipped town with my rent money, and I lost the apartment where we were living— which would teach me to date someone who called himself 'Logan,’ just because he'd seen X-Men too many times. Eventually, obviously, I would have to tell my dad the truth—just as soon as I'd worked out what truth I was going to tell him, because the actual one didn't appeal—but, until then, a little guilt would do him good. Just because he happened to be right this time (and I guess most other times) didn't give him the right to be forever thinking the worst of me. It wasn't fair, and it was no way for a father to treat his daughter. I was twenty-three years old, and I could look after myself, despite all evidence to the contrary.

  "I'm sorry," Dad mumbled, half to himself. It was killing him to have to say it.

  Maybe it was a little bit mean-spirited to keep him thinking that had he misjudged me, but given the number of times he'd managed to make me feel bad about letting him down, I decided that he had it coming. You would think that he would have been pleased that, for once, his youngest daughter hadn't done something stupid, but no. The truth was that he liked to think of me as a child in need of guidance and discipline, rather than the adult that I had become without him noticing.

  I found myself wondering how long I could keep this little deception going and hoped that it would be long enough to come up with a really good excuse for losing the apartment—one that put me in a good light and avoided the necessity of mentioning assholes called Logan (whose real name was Gregory).

  Just as I was thinking this, my big sister, Risa, stuck her head into the room, holding the phone with one hand over the receiver.

  "Hey, Cor, your landlord wants to know where you want your stuff sent."

  The look of triumph on my dad's face as he turned back to me was far worse to endure than losing the apartment. Afraid of being caught enjoying the situation, he quickly switched back to disappointed, another expression I'd seen way too much of over the years. He shook his head despondently. "What is it this time? Another dodgy boyfriend, or are you running a meth lab?"

  Dad always loved to exaggerate where I was concerned. It was never enough that my boyfriends were ill-chosen (and I would have been the first to admit that I'd made mistakes), the way he told it they were criminals, conmen, gangsters and hoodlums. The fact that I had never gotten into drugs didn't matter, 'meth lab' was still the first place his mind went. I sometimes wondered if he would have been happier if I'd gone full crack-whore just to prove him right.

  "Ask him to send it here," I said to Risa, who was now wearing an expression of extreme apology as she realized what she had inadvertently done. "Temporarily," I added, for Dad's benefit. "I won't be staying long."

  "And where will you be going?"

  "I just need some time to earn a bit, so I can find another place to rent."

  Dad shook his head once again. "Maybe you'd be better off stopping here on a longer-term basis."

  "No!" No way was I moving back home.

  But Dad went on. "Just until you've matured a bit."

  "I'm twenty-three!"

  "Only in years," my dad said unhelpfully. "In behavior, you're still about sixteen."

  "Dad!"

  "How many apartments have you been through now? And it always ends the same way."

  The first I had lost because I just ran out of money. I think it happens to a lot of people having to pay rent and bills on their own for the first time—you just lose track. The second one I lost when I held a party and a stray cigarette fell down the back of the bed.We put the fire out before it had done any real damage, but the landlord still threw me out. The third time, I moved in with a boyfriend and, a week later, found him in bed with someone else. Actually, that happened the fifth time as well. The fourth wasn't really my fault; the work dried up. It was hard to make a living as an artist, especially out in the country. That was why I kept trying to move to the city, but, of course, then the rents were more expensive and there were more of what my father referred to as 'temptations.’ Which basically meant boys and booze, which was what the sixth and seventh apartments were lost to, respectively. The eighth, as you already know, was down to a jackass called Logan.

  "I have bad luck," I said.

  My dad nodded. "Yes, you do. You have the bad luck to take after your mother."

  Anger flashed through me. It was hard to say what actually made me angrier, the fact that he was taking cheap shots at my mom, or the fact that he was comparing me to the irresponsible adulteress who abandoned me along with the rest of her family. There were always complex feelings to deal with when the subject of my mother came up.

  "I am nothing like Mom!" I yelled back at my Dad.

  "Then stop acting like her. And stop shouting. While you're living under my roof, you will treat me with a bit of respect."

  "I'm twenty-three!"

  "That's a reason to be more respectful, not less. Behave like a grown up, damn you!"

  "This is why Mom left!" I snapped at him. I knew that this was the weapon that always struck home. We all knew that Mom had been a loose cannon, that she had cheated on Dad, and been pretty disinterested in her two daughters. Yet there was always a fear in Dad, packaged away somewhere towards the back of his mind, that he had somehow driven her to it. And I wasn't afraid to use it against him. "You wouldn't let her live the way she wanted, and it broke her spirit."

  I saw my dad's face flush and knew that I had hurt him. I had also angered him. "How dare you?" His voice was low and thick, as it always was when he was really furious. "How dare you defend her and take her side? I'm the one who raised you."

  "And what a brilliant job you've made of it! You must be so proud!"

  Dad drew himself up. "You may think that you're too big to be put across my knee, Corinne, but I'll prove that wrong if I have to."

  Before I had a chance to answer, Risa stepped back into the room, judiciously putting herself between us.

  "I don't want to interrupt but, you know, it's Corinne's first day back, and you want to save something for tomorrow. I mean, she hasn't even got out of the doorway yet."

  I glanced down at where my bags lay by the door, where Dad had put them when I came in. We'd gone from arrival to arguing in less than five minutes, picking up pretty much exactly where we'd left off when I moved into apartment number eight a month ago. I hadn't yet even had the chance to unpack the bags, which contained the majority of my worldly possessions (except my underwear which, slightly worryingly, Logan had taken with him).

  Inasmuch as I took after
Mom—I certainly looked like her—Risa took after Dad. I wasn't all Mom—or at least, I certainly hoped that I wasn't. Likewise, Risa wasn't all Dad. She was sweet and funny (which Dad could be in his day), and she was a natural peacemaker (which Dad was too, when dealing with anyone other than his own family). Unlike Dad, though, she tried to see the good in everyone and every situation. That was perhaps why she always went to bat for me, which otherwise would have been a little outside her nature, because where Risa took after Dad the most was in her adherence to, and belief in, The Rules.

  You could actually hear the capitals when Dad talked about The Rules, just like when he talked about The Law, and Risa was the same. Mom was, by nature, a rule-breaker and a rebel. I guess it was a measure of how much she and Dad loved each other that two such different people were able to make things work for long enough to have two kids. I took after Mom in that respect—as soon as someone told me what I wasn’t allowed to do, or what I wasn’t allowed to have, then that was the thing I wanted to do or to have. Words like ‘don't' or 'prohibited' made my palms itch and gave me a hot little tingle inside, and don't even get me started on 'forbidden'. Perhaps it was childish, but that was how I was wired.

  A lifetime of enforcing the law had made Sheriff Brian Dugas (aka Dad) a stickler for The Rules, ably assisted by his own dad (dear old Pops), a properly hard bastard who drummed respect and obedience into his son with his belt. Dad was never like that, and I sometimes wondered if he regretted going too easy on us because of his own upbringing. But then, Risa and I were raised the same way, with the same rules and the same discipline, and look how that turned out.