by Tia Siren
I craned my neck up and kissed him again.
“Maybe they can wait for us a little longer,” I said with a wicked smile.
Rex laughed.
7.
He took me by the hand and led me deeper into the forest nearby. My heart quickened for a different reason.
We found a small spot of even ground, covered in clover, just a ways from the road. The moonlight lit up the small empty patch of ground.
Rex had already yanked off his leather vest and shirt. His barrel chest rippled with muscle on top of muscle. I could still remember the last time we were together like this.
“Maybe I should handcuff you to the tree,” he said.
I strode over to a nearby tree and leaned against it.
“Like this?” I said.
He came up behind me and grabbed me by the waist. His strong grasp made me pause. Then he hooked his fingers into my jeans and slid them down over my long legs. He planted a quick kiss on my thighs from behind, and I let out a small moan.
I was so turned on that I could feel myself dripping down my leg. I heard him unfasten his belt and his pants drop to the forest floor. The mystery just served to turn me on more. I waited with bated breath for his touch.
Then I felt his throbbing member rub along my slit. One of his hands stroked along my back, moving slowly up before grabbing my hair. He tugged my head back by my hair, causing my back to arch more.
Then I felt him press himself into me. That forgotten but familiar feeling of his massive manhood forcing its way into my dripping wet sex overtook me. I let out a gasp as he shoved himself in with almost no regard.
A twinge of pain shot through me but then quickly subsided. I continued to pant and moan in the darkness as he started pounding. The more I moaned, the more turned on he became, and the harder he would pound.
I held on to the tree to stay upright. My legs had almost no life left in them. He put his hands on my hips and held me up himself as he continued to grind. I lost myself in the moment, the sensations overtaking my body.
For the first time in years, I felt alive again. With every thrust I begged for more, trying to sate a hunger that hadn’t been fed for a long while.
That old feeling started to well up in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t felt it since the last time I was with Rex. It just kept building and building until finally I couldn’t hold back anymore. I felt the strongest release I had felt since I’d first lain with a man.
Every muscle in my body tensed and relaxed at the same time. I quivered from exhaustion, but Rex wasn’t done. He threw me down into the clover on the ground and continued his onslaught.
I felt dead to the world, and parts of me were numb. Then Rex exploded inside me, filling me up more than he already had. I welcomed it.
Then he joined me on the clover, feeling just as dead as I did.
“Thanks, Rex,” I managed to say.
He grunted.
“For saving my life,” I added.
He threw his arm over me, and for the first time in forever, I felt like I was in the right place.
8.
I woke up to the sound of a phone ringing. It wasn’t my phone; I was sure of that. No, it was the phone the two officers had had on them.
I didn’t answer.
But after it stopped ringing, it immediately began again. I considered turning the thing off so it wouldn’t bother me. I knew who would be on the other side. Still, I wanted to tell him where to shove it.
I answered the phone.
“Hello,” I said confidently.
“So you did get rid of my two good officers,” said Mr. Novak over the phone.
“It wasn’t me, but I was there when it happened. And trust me, he would do the same to you if you were there,” I said.
“Oh, would he?” he asked.
“He would,” I replied.
“Then why don’t you have him come out and prove it?” he said.
“Why would we drive all the way back to the city for him to beat you up? I’m just here to tell you to stay away. I won’t go to the cops, and you won’t get your money back,” I said.
“Well, that’s too bad,” he said over the phone. “Because I’m right here.”
I heard him nearby, and my heart skipped a beat. I looked around and saw him standing by a tree. Then I saw the rest of his gang start to file out.
I quickly covered myself up, while Rex lay naked in the clover, snoring.
“How did you find us?” I asked.
He pointed at the phone.
“If you need to, you can find any phone anywhere in the world. It helps when you have a few cops in your pocket who can take care of that for you,” he said.
I smacked Rex alongside his head, and he just rolled over.
“Heavy sleeper, it seems,” Mr. Novak said.
I stood up and pulled the gun out of my jeans.
“I don’t think you’ll need that,” he said.
A couple of guys I recognized from the other day stepped out from behind the trees, brandishing much bigger guns. I dropped my small pistol to the ground.
“Is this the guy who’s supposed to beat me to a bloody pulp?” Mr. Novak asked.
I nodded.
He pulled a pistol out and shot Rex in the arm.
Rex stirred and snapped awake. At least a bullet was able to wake him up.
“Geez, Celia, I’m awake. You didn’t have to shoot me,” Rex said.
Mr. Novak laughed. I wanted to laugh, but my sense of humor was lost in the moment.
“Rex, this is the guy who sent those cops after me,” I said.
Rex pulled on his jeans.
“He don’t look so tough. I bet you could probably beat him up,” Rex said.
Mr. Novak stopped laughing.
“You think this bitch could even lay a hand on me?” he said.
“No. I’m saying she’d knock you out,” Rex replied.
Rex’s arm was bleeding pretty badly, but he didn’t seem to care. He just grabbed his shirt from the other night, ripped it up, and tied it around the wound.
“I’ve had enough of this,” said Mr. Novak. “Get rid of them.”
The thugs took their aim only to be smashed upside the head with clubs and tire irons; the rest of the motorcycle club was here.
“Thanks, boys. I was wondering when you’d finally show up,” Rex said, pulling on his vest.
Rex stomped his way over toward Mr. Novak. They were both hulking men. Rex was more barrel chested, but Mr. Novak was a little taller with more chiseled muscles.
“I hear you tried to have my girl killed,” Rex said.
“Loose ends need tying up,” he said.
They stood toe to toe, neither of them wanting to back down or show any sign of weakness. I knew Rex; he didn’t have an ounce of weakness in him, and he didn’t bow down to anyone.
“You wanna know what the worst thing is?” Rex asked, but he wasn’t looking for an answer. “Waking up to a gunshot wound.”
Rex reached out and grabbed the gun from Mr. Novak. The two wrestled with it for a brief moment, but Rex was clearly stronger. I wanted to cheer on Rex and see him wipe the smile from Mr. Novak’s face for good.
“What should I do with this guy, Celia? It’s my wedding present to you,” he offered.
I thought about it for a second. I wanted him to do nothing what he did to the cops the other night. I wanted to find my friend Jimmy and dig a grave right next to him to plant Mr. Novak in. I wanted to have Rex squeeze him until all of his bones snapped.
Most of all, I just wanted to feel safe. And I did feel safe as long as Rex was nearby.
I walked up to Mr. Novak.
“What is your life worth to you?” I asked.
“Everything,” he replied.
I laughed.
“Yeah? And how much is everything?” I asked.
He pulled a small black book from his chest pocket.
“This has all my bank codes and passwords. It’s worth
almost ten million if you let me go,” he said.
I snatched the book from his hand and started thumbing through it. It was just a bunch of numbers and passwords, but it looked real enough.
“So I get to leave,” Mr. Novak said.
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll let you go.”
He let out a sigh of relief.
“To prison,” I added.
Rex was a good man, and I knew what he wanted to do.
“Only downside is you didn’t bargain for what you’ll look like when you get there,” I said.
Rex knew what I meant. He threw a punch that would’ve splintered a tree square into Mr. Novak’s stomach. The man fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of him.
But, in desperation, he threw a quick jab, trying his best to strike Rex. Rex easily blocked the blow and delivered a kick to Mr. Novak’s chest. Running on pure adrenaline, Mr. Novak tackled Rex to the ground. He threw punch after punch as hard as he could, but the punches didn’t seem to faze Rex in the slightest.
Rex just stood up and picked the man up by the collar, only to deliver a blow square to the side of Mr. Novak’s face. It was brutal to watch. They two of them kept at it for a while.
Before long, Mr. Novak was bloodied and beaten. His strength had been bested easily by the only person who knew how to make me happy. I was seeing, again, the reason why I had always been so close to him in my youth.
Good people were hard to find, so sometimes you found a bad one who knew just what you need.
I tucked the book into my pocket and made my way toward the road. Rex seemed to be enjoying himself with his punching bag. After about five minutes of Mr. Novak taking a beating, I saw one of the club members come out with a length of rope tied around his torso.
The group dragged him back to the motorcycles and tied the other end of the rope to the bike.
I gave Rex a kiss on the cheek as he rode off down the street with Mr. Novak in tow.
Unfortunately, the ride didn’t last as long as I would had hoped.
9.
“Celia Murphy?” chimed the voice of the officer.
I stood up and walked over to the holding cell bars.
“You’re free to go,” he said.
I walked out to the lobby of the police station. A good portion of the club was there waiting, but not Rex.
“Celia Murphy,” said the old woman behind the desk, “your marriage license is in order. Here’s your certificate.”
I laughed at how droll she made the whole proceeding sound. If Rex were here to see this, he’d probably laugh about it too. I was his now and forever.
“Will Rex be out soon?” I asked.
The officer who had led me out was sitting at the front desk. He looked at me in disbelief.
“You do know we caught him dragging a man behind a motorcycle down Main Street at highway speeds, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up locked up for the rest of his life.”
“Naw. He’ll get out. He always does,” I said.
I was contacted later that day by drug enforcement officers. The information I had and the bodies I’d left were more than enough to convince them that I had just been fighting for my life.
It took a while, but I finally managed to convince them to let Rex go. Mr. Novak had survived and was in critical care at the local hospital. I felt completely free of my dumb mistake.
In the end, I felt sorry for my friend Jimmy who got stuck in a mess he couldn’t dig himself out of. But, some good did come from the whole situation. I got my man back.
We saddled up outside the police station, and I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“You know, we’re married now,” I said.
“I think I want a divorce,” Rex replied. “You’re just too much trouble.”
We both laughed, and everything felt right. As we drove down the open road, as I had so many years ago, I felt free.
*****
THE END
BWWM Romance Collection
The Russian’s Secret Love Child – Tyra’s Story
A BWWM Billionaire Pregnancy Romance
''It's okay, Tyra, hold on to me,'' Natalie said as Tyra collapsed into her arms.
Father Smith had told me it would be like this, Tyra thought. But which of the emotions had he meant? The Grief or the guilt? Tyra was experiencing both. Two of the most powerful human emotions were wracking through her at will.
''Tyra, we're so sorry for your loss.'' Tyra lifted her head from Natalie's shoulder. It was Mr. and Mrs. Radley Samuels, Tyra's boss and his wife.
''Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.'' Tyra didn't think she could speak, but the words came out somehow. Natalie handed her another tissue and for a moment, Tyra could see clearly again. She looked to her left and saw a line of mourners waiting to express their condolences to her.
''If only I hadn't been so selfish,'' Tyra said to Natalie as they walked up the cemetery path. It had taken an eternity to work through the line of those seeking to express their condolences and Tyra was exhausted. ''It was foggy, and I knew dad didn't want to drive that day. It was me. Me moaning that they hadn't been to see me in my new home in the city. Lord knows, I think I even suggested they weren't interested in me anymore.'' She held onto Natalie again as another insufferable wave of guilt rammed at her. ''No, I killed them. Dad would never have taken mom out in the car on a day like normally.'' Natalie didn't know how to comfort her friend. They were both just twenty-three and beginning to make their way in the world. Losing parents wasn't supposed to happen until later in life.
*****
Three weeks after the funeral, Tyra stood outside the jewelry store on West 47th Street and looked at it, really looked at it, for the first time. I've been working here for seven months, and this is the first time I've properly taken the place in, she thought. Grief-stricken and riddled with guilt; she felt her senses had become sharper since the passing of her parents. It was as if someone was making her take notice of the world. Making her appreciate what can so easily be torn away from you, in an instant.
West 47th Street was full of jewelry shops, but none as grand as J.P Samuels. They might as well have called it, 'Jewelers to the rich and famous,' she thought. For that's what it was. A place where the rich came to gorge on expensive stones. The front of the store was imposing. Between the cleanest store windows in New York, there were columns of polished black granite. The entrance was in the middle of the store and it too was surrounded by shiny black stone. The door itself was made of bulletproof, reinforced glass. What Tyra liked best about the facade was the sign. It was made of copper and ran the length of the store. The background was dark and the letters that had been forged onto it were polished and stood out better than any other letters on the street.
''Welcome back Tyra. I'm so sorry to hear about your mom and dad,'' Leon said. ''Thanks, Leon. It's very brave of you to say so.'' She'd found that most people just turned away from her, not knowing what to say. Not Leon. It was his job to stand inside the door and keep out the undesirables. He was perfectly equipped to do so at six feet seven and two hundred and fifty pounds, but it involved hours standing in the same place, day after day.
''Tyra, my girl,'' Radley Samuel's said. He'd been waiting for her. Normally, he didn't stand in the shop.
He had others to do that for him. His job was managing the business that his grandfather had started. ''Come with me.''
Tyra followed him through the store. They walked past glass cabinets filled with beautiful necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings, and watches. At the back of the store, they went through a door and down a corridor. The first door on the right led to a security room. Tyra had never been in the room, but she had seen inside once when the door had been open. It was full of monitors and the latest lock down systems. It was all hi-tech, and she had no idea about any of it.
Radley pushed open the first door on the left and showed her into his office. How can anyone spend hours in an office with no da
ylight? she wondered. There were pictures of his ancestors on one wall and a giant flora vase in the corner. What she liked most about his office was the carpet. It was deep red with the company crest woven into it.
''Tyra, please sit down.'' He pointed to a button backed armchair that stood in front of his mahogany desk. ''I want you to tell me how you are feeling. You've been through a lot, and I want to make sure you’re feeling up to working again.'' I wish I had a daughter like her, she's so graceful and kind, yet determined and motivated, he thought.
''Well, honestly speaking, I'm still feeling awful.'' You can tell him everything; he cares for you, she told herself as a moment of doubt crept into her mind. ''I weep a lot, especially in the evening and I feel guilty. So guilty.'' She noticed how closely he was listening to her. The furrows on his forehead were deep with concern for her, and his eyes were looking directly into hers, seeking any sign that a return to work may be too early.
''There is nothing I can say to you that will make you feel better. All I can do is tell you what happened to me when my son was killed.'' Killed? I didn't know he'd had a son, she thought. The thought that someone close to her had also suffered such a loss made her feel better.
''My son was only nineteen. He was studying business at New York University and working here at the weekends.'' He stopped talking for a moment, took out a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his forehead. Tyra knew him to be fifty-nine. He was quite tall and very thin. It was as if he was so involved in his business he forgot to eat.
He looked at her with a pained expression as he continued. ''One morning, he left home to go to college, and he never came back again. A man who had been drinking all night decided to get into his car and drive to the girlfriend he had left for dead in her apartment the previous evening. When he fell asleep at the wheel, it was my son he hit.'' Tyra noticed a crack in his voice. ''Walking down the street minding his own business.'' He took the handkerchief and blew his nose.
''Oh my God, that's awful,'' Tyra put her hand to her mouth.
He nodded. Perhaps I shouldn't have burdened her with this, he thought. ''At first, everything was a blur. It was only after the funeral had taken place that it really hit me. After the funeral, everyone seems to disappear. All the kind words and supporting arms are no longer there. You are suddenly alone.'' He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair and looked towards a photo on his desk. Tyra couldn't see who it was. She assumed his son.