Authors: Tia Siren
ROMANCE: MC BIKER ROMANCE: Bad Boy Biker's Baby (Bad Boy Alpha Male Motorcycle Club Romance) (Contemporary MC Biker Pregnancy Romance) (3 page)
“See. You aren’t like other chicks.”
“That’s a good thing. Tell me your name.”
Colt laughed. “I don’t love you. I love to fuck you, but I don’t love you.”
Sherry heard that, and for some reason, it stung, even though she was pretty sure she didn’t love him either.
Colt went on. “I was in a bad relationship too. She was a nice chick. Good lay but she just wanted too much from me. Kids. Getting married. I’m not that type of guy.”
Sherry laughed. “I can tell.”
They laughed.
A week or so passed after that, and Colt knew he needed to break things off with Sherry. He was starting to really like her, and he was wanting more from their relationship. He wasn’t ready for all of that and wasn’t ready for another woman to be wanting him to change his ways. If there was going to be a future with Sherry, surely she would want him to stop fighting, and drinking, and worse yet, maybe hang up the biking gear and get a real job. Colt had barely graduated high school; there was no way he could hold down some nine to five.
He showed up to her apartment when he knew she would be done with work. The sky was the deep purple of evening, and when she answered the door, she was in a towel, fresh from a shower or bath. He hadn’t planned on fucking her one last time, but as soon as she saw him, she dropped the towel, and he was lost in her body.
He took it more gently, knowing it might be the last time he slept with her. His kisses were tender, as was his touch. His fingertips traced along her collar bones, down to her nipples. He planted a kiss on her lips and then trailed downwards, down over one of her breasts, and dropping to his knees just inside the door so he could kiss down her flat tummy, and along her shaved pubic area. She lifted a leg and hooked it over his shoulder, and bending his neck, he could trail his tongue along her wet slit.
The tip of his tongue was like velvet as it flicked back and forth over her engorged clit. No man had ever eaten her out while she was standing, and the whole thing was so exotic and tender, that it wasn’t long before she was coming, her juices flowing over his chin as he sucked on her clit and her fingers gripped into his hair.
He stood and undressed, and they went into her bedroom. She tried to take charge, tried to be rough, attempting to push him back so she could ride him, but he took her by the wrist and guided her, so she was lying down.
“You going to fuck me?” Sherry breathed in the purple light that came flowing in through the bedroom window.
“I’m going to make love to you,” Colt corrected her, and he moved atop of her, kissing her deeply as he used his hand to guide himself into her.
The biker usually fucked her hard, his hips flying, their pelvis meeting and slapping audibly together in a blur, but now he was pushing deep inside her slowly, and when his skin met hers he pulled back, almost pulling fully from her pussy.
“Oh God,” Sherry said, wrapping her legs around him as he rocked slowly atop her, pushing in and out.
His lips explored her body, her neck, her lips, her breasts, anything they could reach. She came again, her pussy spasming around his cock, and still he rocked slowly, unwilling to give in to the urge to just fuck her hard and fast.
She ran her hands along his back, and then down along his side, feeling the muscles there. When he was about to come, he pressed his lips to hers, their mouths open together and his cock jumped once, twice, three times inside of her, filling her with his seed.
They lay together then in the darkness, the purple of evening having given way to the black of night while they made love. Colt fell asleep inside of her.
In the morning, he broke things off with her.
“Are you serious?” she asked, fresh from a shower and getting dressed for work. He sat naked on the edge of her bed, watching her pull stockings on.
“It’s just… over,” he said with a shrug. He was trying to look as though he didn’t care, but the truth was it hurt him to call it all off.
“Fuck you, get out,” Sherry said, and she tossed his clothes to him.
He didn’t argue; he didn’t even speak. He just dressed and left.
A month went by. Sherry missed him, realizing that for her at least, it had ended up being more than just sex. He was a bad boy, he did bad things, idiotic things, but she knew the real him. He had shown her his true side. He was kind; he was caring. His father had been a biker, he had grown up in a certain life, and he had ended up just like his father, a man who was in prison and would be for the rest of his life.
And then Sherry missed her period. She let it stretch on for a week, but finally, she couldn’t put it off any longer and she bought a pregnancy test and took it. She was pregnant.
Another month went on, and she went to the doctor. The baby was healthy, growing well, and would be there right around Christmas. Sherry smiled when the doctor told her this, but in her car in the parking lot outside of the clinic, she cried. What was she going to do?
There was no question about who the father was. Colt may have been sleeping with other women while they were together; she didn’t know one way or the other, but since moving to Happy, he was the only man she had been with.
She would keep the baby; she knew that much. After a few days of deliberation, she decided Colt needed to know, and he needed to help her. She went to Earl’s one Saturday night.
Colt was there, in front of his fellow Vipers. They laughed and drank, and Colt had a young blonde girl on his lap, wearing a short skirt, and as anyone could very plainly see, no panties.
Colt saw Sherry but didn’t move to come speak with her. That was okay to Sherry, she wanted to say what she had to say in front of a crowd, so they would all know. Maybe his friends would talk sense into Colt if he reacted the way she feared. She walked to his table and the talking stopped, and every man and woman there looked at her.
“I’m pregnant,” she said, looking only at Colt. From the corner of her eye, she could see some mouths drop open.
Colt just laughed. “Congratulations.”
“It’s yours.”
“I’m too young and good looking to be a father,” Colt cracked, and the other Viper’s all laughed.
“I need your help.”
“I’ll pay for the abortion.”
“I’m keeping it,” Sherry said, anger rising in her voice.
“I don’t care. I won’t have anything to do with it. You’re probably just lying, trying to get me to take you back. It was just about sex, Love. I like to fuck.”
Tears stung Sherry’s eyes, salty and hot, and she realized she had been an idiot. Of course, he would be like that. He wouldn’t ever do the right thing. She turned and hurried out of the bar.
6
Days passed, and Colt felt worse and worse. He had played the part in front of his friends. He had said what he was expected to say, not what he had really wanted to say. He had a few days to focus on what Sherry had said. She was pregnant. It was his. He could be a father, maybe a better one than his own old man. Surely he could do better than that asshole ever had. He could teach the kid right and wrong. Be there for him or her. Like his own father never had been.
He made up his mind, and he went to see Sherry. He knocked on her door one evening, but she didn’t answer. He knew she was home; her car was parked in the parking lot behind the apartment.
“Sherry, I want to apologize,” he said.
She didn’t speak to him. Eventually, he left.
He came back the next night, and then the next. A week of that went by, and on the ninth straight evening of him coming to speak to her, she let him in. She was dressed in sweatpants and an oversized tee shirt. Her belly was already showing.
“What?” she asked as he stood in her living room and she sat on the couch. He rubbed his arms. He was heavily tattooed, and he suddenly doubted he looked like most fathers.
“I want to make it work,” he said.
“No.”
“Please.”
Sherry sighed. “I don’t need you.”
“I fell in love with you. That’s why I ended it. I fell in love with you, and I freaked out,” Colt said.
“That’s nice,” Sherry said. Her face was one of anger and sadness, a perfect mix.
“Come with me to Earl’s,” he asked. “I want you there for something.”
“You aren’t serious,” Sherry said.
“Please?”
She sighed but relented. She drove her car, and he led the way on his motorcycle. They went inside, and the Vipers that were there drinking were surprised to see them together.
Colt stepped to the head of the table. Sherry hung back, arms over her belly protectively.
“I’m resigning as president of the Vipers,” Colt said, and the other members gasped.
“Why?” Davey asked.
“I want to be a father. I want to be with the woman I love,” Colt said, turning to look at Sherry. “It’s time I do the right thing. I love you all, I always will, but sometimes… you just have to grow up, and do what’s right.”
The Vipers begged him not to go, and they angrily indicated Sherry was behind it all, but Colt told them to shut up and deal with his decision. He and Sherry walked out of the bar. She turned on him by her car, and jabbed a finger in his face.
“You think that’s enough?” she asked. “Enough to make me forgive what you said? How you acted? Colt, you have to be real.”
“Rupert,” the man said softly.
“What?”
“My name is Rupert.”
Sherry looked at him, and her mouth fell open. “Rupert?”
“I know, it’s stupid. It was my great grandfather’s name. I never liked it.”
Sherry burst into laughter. “It makes you sound British.”
“I know, I know.”
“I see why you go by Colt.”
“Are you going to keep making fun of me?”
Sherry stopped laughing, but she went back to looking stern. “You deserve it.”
“I know I do.”
“I love you too, by the way.”
Colt smiled, and the pregnant woman stepped into his arms. They kissed.
They were married near Halloween, with a small service that had her family and friends from Oklahoma, and his side was all big biker guys with leather vests and with long gray beards.
The baby came six days before Christmas, and Colt teased Sherry, making it seem as though he wanted the little boy to be named Rupert like him.
“I don’t think so, Rupert,” Sherry said from the bed, holding the little pink baby to her chest.
“At least, it’s not a girl,” Colt said. “I couldn’t deal with calling my daughter Love.”
“Come on, be serious. Help me think of a name.”
“How about Viper?”
Sherry laughed. “Are you ever going to grow up?”
“Did you think I would ever grow up this much?” Colt asked, and Sherry grinned and shook her head.
“No,” she said.
Colt leaned down and kissed her, and then he pressed his lips to his son’s tiny forehead. He still looked mean, covered in tattoos, and he favored jeans and tee shirts, and his anger rose up in him sometimes. But looking down at the woman he loved and their son, Colt knew he would never go back to the man he had been.
*****
THE END
Table of Contents
Bad Boy Biker’s Baby – An MC Romance
He’s The Boss – A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance
A Heart in Trouble – A Western Billionaire Romance
More Than a Game – A College Football Romance
To Tempt a Mate – A Dragon Shifter Romance
A Bride’s Heart – A Clean Western Romance
The Cowboy’s Forgiveness – A Western Billionaire Romance
Gold in Texas – A Cowboy Billionaire Pregnancy Romance
Tyra - a Russian Thief Pregnancy Romance
Nicki - a Russian Mafia Romance
Keke – a Billionaire and PI Romance
The Sexy Billionaire Daddy – a Billionaire Pregnancy Romance
A Dangerous Game – A BWWM Football Romance
The Billionaire’s Secret Love Child – a Billionaire Romance
Nia - a Billionaire Boss Romance
Rae – a Hollywood Billionaire Romance
Ella – a Russian Billionaire Boss Romance
Octavia - a Russian Billionaire Romance
The Rockstar’s Love Child – a Billionaire Pregnancy Romance
Aisha – a Billionaire Boss Pregnancy Romance
The Bad Boy Billionaire – an Alpha Male Billionaire Romance
Carl Johnson screamed as he looked below him and realized how small everyone looked. He was hanging by his ankles from a scaffolding around a half-built apartment block, in down-town Los Angeles.
''It's around a hundred yards to the ground. Don't do it Carl. Don't do it to the poor emergency services. They've got better things to do than scrape pieces of you from the sidewalk,'' Ryan said. ''Now, I'm going to ask you one more time about the contract. Who gets first refusal?''
Carl closed his eyes and prayed the two enormous men holding him wouldn't suddenly take even more of a dislike to him, and let go. He had a wife, three kids and a new grandchild that he absolutely adored. ''Put me down Ryan, this isn't the way we do business. You're not a murderer.''
Brave guy, Ryan thought. ''There's a first time for everything Carl. You promised to sell this place to me once it was finished. Now someone has made you a better offer you've gone back on your word. That's not nice.'' Ryan nodded to one of the men, and he let go of Carl's left leg.
''Jesus,'' Carl screamed. He was now hanging by his right leg, and the man holding him was beginning to breathe hard. ''Okay, Okay. It's yours; please pull me up.''
''Pull him in,'' Ryan ordered. The two men heaved him back over the rail and threw him into the building. Ryan stood over him and noticed he'd wet himself. ''Don't do that again Carl. I hate heights,'' Ryan said.
The building was still very much a shell, and the only way down was in constructor's lift, down the outside of the building. The door was made of mesh and as they descended the wind whistled around them.
Down on the sidewalk, Ryan felt in his jacket for his cellphone. It seemed like it was the hundredth text he'd had that morning. Cindy again, he said to himself. When would she leave him alone? He'd made it perfectly clear to her he only wanted to fool around, not get into a long-term relationship. Most women understood what he wanted, but not Cindy. She'd just lost her husband to a heart attack, and maybe he shouldn't have taken her to bed while she was in such a fragile state. He'd seen her across the room at an art exhibition given by one of his clients in San Francisco. Her beauty and vulnerability had turned him on. In her state, she hadn't taken much persuading to come to his hotel room. She'd needed a shoulder to cry on, a man to love her and tell her she would feel better soon. But he didn't want her, and she'd have to be told to stop contacting him.
''Where to boss?'' the chauffeur asked. He'd been waiting in the Rolls Royce since dropping Ryan off to do his dirty business with Carl.
''The Towers,'' Ryan replied. The Towers referred to Mathewson Towers, a huge office block in LA which Ryan owned. His company occupied the top three floors of the ninety-eight-floor building. The rest was a mix of hotel and offices. 'I've got a radio interview at two,'' he added.
''Hi Mr. Jacobson, Kelly Cruz is here, I put her in the board room,'' Steffi said.
''Thanks, Steffi. Do I look okay?'' he asked his sixty-year-old secretary?
''As handsome as ever,'' she said.
''You're a great liar,'' he added. Steffi was his backbone, the woman that organized his days, looked, after all, his correspondence and made sure his thousand dollar suits came back from the dry cleaners on time. But disaster had struck, she'd decided to retire. She was the one employee he knew he couldn't do without. He'd offered her a huge increase in salary, even offered to pay off the tiny bit of mortgage she and her husband still had on their detached house. But tired after years in the stressful environment Ryan adored, she wasn't to be swayed.
Why the hell he'd agreed to do an interview for a radio show he had no idea, it wasn't his thing. He hated the media. He was a real estate guy, a developer, someone who had to make unpopular decisions in the name of making money. The media was always on his case. He knew what he was; he didn't need telling every day.
The boardroom was the most luxurious room in the whole building. When Ryan entered the room, he was very pleasantly surprised. Kelly looked just like her photos. When she'd sent an email requesting an interview, Steffi had shown him a photo of her on the Capital Radio website, and he'd immediately said yes to her request.
''Kelly, hi, nice to meet you.'' He shook her hand.
''Mr. Jacobson, thanks for agreeing to the interview.''
''You're the first ever.''
''Interview?''
''Yes, I don't like the media much.''
''Well, I hope you like us,'' she said with a smile.
She was Ryan's type. A glitzy blonde, dressed in a business suit and heels. ''I'm sure I will.''
''Shall we just start? If you want to stop at any time, just hold up your hand, and I'll halt the recording.''
''Sure, go right ahead,'' he said taking a looking at her breasts as she reached behind her to pick up the microphone. She put it on the highly polished table and cleared her throat.
''Today we're in downtown LA, with real estate mogul Ryan Jacobson. Thank you for agreeing to see us, Mr. Jacobson.''
''My pleasure Kelly.'' He took a lot down at her bronzed legs and wondered how she got them so smooth looking.
''A lot of people know you as the secretive billionaire businessman. Perhaps you would tell us how you got started.''
''Sure. Well, I went to construction college and learned how to build, and then I worked for a real tough guy called Jake Inchmore as a young apprentice. He clipped my ears a few times; I can tell you. I learned a lot from him.''
''And when did you start your own business?''
''As soon as I knew what I was doing. I was very grateful to Jake for teaching me all he knew. You know, the day I told him I was leaving to set up my own company, I was terrified of what he'd do to me. But he was really supportive and pleased I had some entrepreneurial spirit.''
''You certainly do.''
''The company you have built has seen a good amount of controversy hasn't it?''
''In what way?'' he asked.
''Well your core business is buying apartment buildings, doing some refurbishments and increasing the rents drastically. There have been a number of high-profile cases where your company has evicted old people and families with young kids. People who couldn't pay the new rents.''
''I knew it. I fucking well knew it. I'm the dumbest businessman in this whole Godforsaken city. I thought you were different; that's why I invited you here. But you're just the same as all the others. Now get the hell out of my office.'' Ryan swiped his arms over the table and knocked the microphone onto the floor.
''That's the first and last time, Steffi, never again,''he said as he walked past her desk. ''Bloody media. And don't say I told you so.''
''Well I did,'' Steffi said. ''If she hadn't been so good looking, you would never have agreed to the interview.'' Typical Ryan, she thought. He was a great business man but a sucker for a pretty woman. She couldn't remember the number of times she had a tearful lady on the phone asking after his whereabouts.
Ryan slumped into his giant leather desk chair and looked through his emails. There was one from Alina telling him she would arrive in LA around eight that evening. She told him she would take a cab to his home and not to bother sending a driver.
''Steffi,'' he shouted. Steffi arrived in his office with a note pad. ''Alina's coming this evening. I'll bring her to work in the morning. How long do you think you'll need to handover?''
''I think I can teach her all she needs to know in a month. After that, she can have my phone number and call me if she needs to know anything.'' Steffi looked at Ryan and noticed how tired he looked.
''You're not overdoing it are you?' she asked.
''What makes you say that?''
''You look tired.''
''I am tired. Tired of people who don't keep promises. This morning we had to hold a guy over the edge of a building and threaten to drop him.''
Steffi laughed. ''You have a wild imagination, Mr. Jacobson.''
If only she knew the real truth, he thought. ''I'm going home. If you need me, you know where I am.''
The Black Rolls Royce drove to Beverley Park and pulled into a gateway. The security guard came out of his hut and opened the gate. As Ryan's car passed, he waved and closed the gate.
Ryan loved his home. At just thirty-five, he was the youngest resident in the area. At an average price of thirty million dollars, the houses in the immediate area were owned by business people and Hollywood stars.
Getting out of the Rolls, he pulled out his cell. ''Party time,'' he shouted into in. ''Spread the word. Starts at seven, let's make it a pool party.''
When he walked into the house, he was greeted by John Frazer, a man he'd hired in London. John was one of the few real butlers the world still possessed. ''John, it's pool party time. Starts at seven, can you organize?''
John was tempted to roll his eyes in disgust, but Ryan paid him ridiculously well to turn the other cheek. ''Of course sir. Leave it to me.''
*****
''Hi mom,'' Alina said. ''Yes.....yes......yes. Mom, don't worry I'm fine. Nothing to worry about I'll be there soon. Yes, mom, the flight was great. What? Yes, of course, I've got enough money.''
''Moms huh,'' the young man sitting next to her in the train said.
''Yer. She's worried about me.''
''First time away from home?''
''Yes, I suppose it is. I went to college in New York, but lived at home because it was so close.''
'Where are you headed?''
''To downtown LA. My first job.''
''Wow. Such a long way from home too,'' he said looking at her. He really liked what he saw. Her long legs were covered by a pair of faded jeans which showed off her slender thighs. Her white blouse had one button too many open, and he got a glimpse of her lacy bra with its overflowing contents.
''Yes it sure is a long way from home, but I'm looking forward to it.''
''What are you going to to?''
''I'm going to be PA to a real estate dealer. I'm so excited. I never dreamed I would get the job.''
''Was there a lot of competition?''
''Well, if I tell you the name of the guy you'll know the answer.''
''Go on then.''
''Ryan.....''
''Jacobson,'' he said.
''How did you know?'' she said.
''He's famous. Not for the right reasons either.''
Alina turned her head to him. He was about her age but dressed older. He was wearing a tweed jacket and a pair of highly polished black shoes. ''What do you mean by that?''
''He's got a reputation for treating tenants poorly.''
Alina had no idea whether what he'd said was true or not. All she knew was that she was terribly excited about the future. It had started with an ad she'd seen in the national press. She'd never heard of Ryan Jacobson or his company, but she wanted a job, and she'd always wanted to work in the warmth of California. When someone told her Ryan was a billionaire businessman, the like of which America had never seen, she'd consigned her hope of success to the trash can. A week later Steffi had called and told her Ryan would be in New York and wanted to talk to her. He'd interviewed her the St. Regis, where he was staying in a fifteen thousand dollar a night suite.
She'd worn her best dress and a pair of really chic, but extremely uncomfortable heels. She was sure she'd made a fool of herself when she'd shaken his hand because she just stood open mouthed with her hand in his, unable to say anything. It was the moment Alina found out what a powerful aphrodisiac the combination of good looks and wealth could be.
Her interview went by in a flash, and she knew she hadn't listened to him as well as she should have. His blonde hair, bronzed skin, angular jaw and dazzling blue eyes prevented her from doing so.
''Why would he treat tenants poorly?'' she asked.
''He buys buildings and increases rents. Then he kicks people out if they can't pay.''
Ryan didn't seem like that kind of guy, she thought. He'd been pleasant to her, more like a friend than a potential boss.
''Well, here's my stop,'' he said. ''Good luck.''
Alina began to think about Ryan. Was she perhaps on the way to work for an ogre? Maybe he was rich because he was ruthless, maybe he even broke the law.
The taxi stopped outside the gates to Ryan's mansion at ten past eight. The security guard had drifted off to sleep and didn't see the beautiful young lady peering through the railings. There was no bell or intercom, so she waited. After a short time, she picked up a small stone and threw it at the cabin. It hit the window and to her horror cracked it. The guard woke up with a start and ran out brandishing a baseball bat.
''What the hell are you doing?'' he shouted. ''Look, you've broken the window.''
''Sorry, I.......didn't mean to. I thought maybe.......you were.......''
''I'm calling Mr. Jacobson.'' He assumed Alina was late to the party. Ryan and his friends often invited beautiful women like her to their parties. ''Mr. Frazer, there's a young woman at the gate. She threw a stone at my cabin and broke the window.
