Big Bad Alpha: A Billionaire Romance

by Tia Siren

  Chapter Eleven

  Amelia

  I checked my phone for the millionth time since Kellan left home that morning and was annoyed to see that I had no calls or texts from him. I knew he and my father were super busy getting ready for the fashion show later today, but his unusual lack of contact made me super worried. Not wanting to be the needy girlfriend, I fought the urge to call him and walked to our walk-in closet to pick out my shoes.

  After a month of family dinners and long conversations about the future, my parents had finally forgiven Kellan and, as it turned out, dad was actually euphoric about adding his best friend to the family. With me nearing my final trimester, Kellan and I had decided that it would be best for me to move in with him. There was just no point in setting up two nurseries when we were in love and so freaking happy together.

  It was sometimes hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that I had gotten everything I had ever dreamt of having. I had a Harvard degree, an incredible job, and Kellan’s love. In addition to that, I also had a few things I had never imagined having, such as the interest of the entire fashion community.

  As much as I’d like to say that their interest was due to my job or even my sharp sense of style, it wasn’t. All they cared about was how a girl like had landed fashion’s most infamous womanizer. The blogosphere buzzed with gossip regarding us, but I was too preoccupied being happy to worry about what people babbled about me. With that being said, I definitely wanted to look beautiful for our first public outing at the show tonight.

  I squeezed my swollen feet into a gorgeous pair of red Louboutin pumps and looked at myself in our walk-in closet’s full-length mirror. A smile curled on my red lips at the edgy and yet pregnancy appropriate look I had put together. Beneath a white motorcycle jacket, I wore a simple and fitted knee-length, black dress that flaunted my new curves and some bold jewelry that complimented it well. The look was tied together by beach waves, a sharp winged eyeliner and a golden clutch.

  Satisfied with my appearance and already five minutes late, I called my driver and made my way out of the apartment. Once I was sitting at the back of the car and on my way to the venue, I tried Kellan again. After a few rings, he finally answered the call.

  “Hello, love.” I could barely make out his voice over the commotion, but I still relaxed instantly.

  “Hi!” I purred. “I was starting to worry.”

  “I’m sorry,” he responded. “I’ve been really busy with work today. I planned to go home and change, but I ended up doing it at the office to save time. Are you on the way?”

  I nodded even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “I am. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  “Perfect!” he exclaimed and then asked me about my day. We talked for a little bit before I finally hung up.

  For the remainder of the ride, I checked my social media and fussed with my hair and makeup. As vain as it may sound, I wanted to look perfect and sexy for Kellan. After keeping me on edge all over his whereabouts, it was his time to suffer—and maybe, have a little flashback of the fashion show in which little Ben was conceived. I giggled at the idea.

  After twenty or so minutes, the car stopped in front of an old church. As I stepped out of the vehicle, I admired its intricate marble detail and stained windows. It was truly a beautiful and perfect place for a bridal fashion show.

  “There’s my beautiful girlfriend,” Kellan called from the crowd. I turned in his direction and, as per usual, he was dressed to the nines in a crisp white button down with the top few buttons undone to expose his tame chest hair, a pair of khaki pants with the hems rolled just a few inches, and a pair of tan Oxford’s. I would have jumped him then and there if the law permitted.

  “Am I overdressed?” I asked after kissing his lips.

  “Definitely, you should have way fewer clothes on. No clothes would be even better,” he stated in a serious tone that made me roll my eyes and laugh.

  Happy Kellan was always my favorite Kellan, and I could tell that despite the unusual nervousness in his eyes he hadn’t been this happy in a long time. He winked at me and guided me down the carpet where we stopped for a few photographs before making our way inside the venue.

  The inside of the church was just as magnificent as the outside. Adding to its architectural beauty, were tons gorgeous fresh flowers, candles and white silk banners that had been carefully placed to create one of the most—if not the most—romantic setting I had ever set foot in. I was instantly enamored with it.

  I was so distracted by the beautiful serenity around me that I only noticed we were at our seats when my parents stood to greet me. It was strange to see them actually attend a show since they always either stayed backstage or at the bar, but that was fun to have them there and share the gorgeousness of the place with my mom.

  As we waited for the show to begin, the four of us talked—mostly about the baby and our progress with the nursery—and I was amazed at how excited mom and dad were about everything. My mother even clapped her hands when we told them we had chosen a safari theme for Ben’s room. By the time the lights dimmed announcing the start of the show my heart was so full of love, I wondered how it was still able to pump blood.

  I had never known I cared so much about wedding dresses until the first model walked down the catwalk. I was entranced by the sea of white and pastel lace with the gems and sparkles dancing in the spotlights. My heart pounded as I admired the details in each dress and veil. I was acutely aware that Kellan’s eyes were focused on me as I gawked at the gowns, and though I didn’t want to scare him or make him feel pressured in any way, I just couldn’t peel my eyes from them or stop dreaming about wearing one of those beauties myself.

  One particular dress made my eyes tear up. It was a traditional dress with long sleeves made of sheer fabric with lace trims. The bust was cut in a deep v shape with a crisp white material lining panels of delicate lace that faded onto a long tulle skirt. The dress looked regal and perfect and, at that moment, I decided that one day I would wear it.

  In the blink of an eye, the show ended, and I stood to clap along with the rest of the crowd as the designer came down the runway. Confusion lined my forehead when Kellan kissed the back of my hand before joining the designer on stage.

  I turned to look at my parents, but they only shrugged with ridiculous looking grins on their faces. I glanced over at Kellan and saw he had a microphone in his hand. He motioned for people to seat back down and they did.

  He looked sexy and confident as he started, “As you all know, I got myself a girlfriend, which is odd considering . . . well, me.” The people around us chuckled and whistled, but I frowned with curiosity as my boyfriend continued to speak. “I’ve never been a settle down kind of man, and I never thought I would be, until that gorgeous woman right there caught my attention.”

  My face grew warm and red as Kellan pointed at me and the cheers grew louder. Gazing deep into my eyes, he continued, “Even with that bun in the oven, I fought my feelings for her and my desire to have her permanently in my life until she eloquently pointed out that I was an idiot. Well, I’m tired of being an idiot.”

  Before me even noticing it, my lips turned up into a smile, the crowd fell silent, and my beloved boyfriend slowly made his way towards me. My heart raced and fluttered and did every other weird thing a happy heart can do as Kellan came to a stop in front of me.

  Kellan handed the microphone to my mother who held it up to his face as he took one of my hands in his and helped me up to my feet. His lips delivered a soft kiss to the back of my hand as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. Tears flooded my eyes as my gaze shifted from the object in his hand to the handsome face I had loved for most of my life.

  “Amelia Blackwell, you have made me want to be a better man,” he cooed as tears pooled in his eyes as well. “I know for a fact that I don’t deserve you, but I love you more than I could have ever imagined loving another person. I want the chance to spend the rest of my lif
e trying to not deserve you a little less.” With watery and amazed eyes, I watched as Kellan Shepard dropped to one knee in front of me and said, “Will you marry me?”

  It was an odd moment. Dreams weren’t meant to come true, but somehow mine did, and the reality far exceeded them. Beside me, I could hear my mother sniffing and my dad breathing heavy the way he did when he was really anxious. Knowing we had not only their blessing but also their excitement, made my heart—and my tears—overflow.

  “Yes,” I said breathlessly with a vigorous nod.

  “Yeah?” he confirmed.

  I laughed as I pulled him to his feet and into my arms. “Hell, yes.”

  People around us cheered and clapped as Kellan slipped the gorgeous ring on my finger and kissed my lips.

  “I love you, future Mrs. Shepard,” Kellan whispered against my mouth, his strong arms wrapped tightly around me.

  I giggled and kissed him again. “I’ve always loved you, Mr. Shepard. And I’m sure that I always will.”

  THE END

  Big Bad Daddy Exclusive Sneak Peak

  Big Bad Daddy: A Single Dad and the Nanny Romance

  CHAPTER ONE: Amy Lynne Beck

  Sometimes I just sat and wondered how I got here. I didn’t mean how I got here as in how I got to my crappy apartment in the rundown section of Rosewood Heights. I meant how did I get here-here, to this point in my life where I was sitting in my crappy apartment thinking about how crappy my life was.

  I wouldn’t say that this was the lowest point of my life.

  I was only twenty-three after all. I had my whole life ahead of me. I was sure I’d have much lower points to whine about if things kept going like they were.

  Let’s just say this was about as low as I’d come so far.

  You know what they said, when you hit rock bottom there was nowhere to go but up?

  Well, I’d pretty much hit rock bottom and then some, so I guessed it was all sunshine and roses from here. Not!

  I hadn’t always been like this: a Debbie Downer who saw the world as a cold and lonely place. To the contrary, I used to be so upbeat and positive that I would get on your nerves. I believed with all my heart that people were generally kind and good. I was fun to be around and did my best to make the world a better place.

  Then I met him.

  Randy Beck, my ex-husband.

  The man who would change my life forever in every way you could imagine. If I’d ever been lower than I was now, it was during the year I was married to Randy.

  Randy was good looking, with blow-dried, sandy brown hair and a little moustache he kept trimmed neatly above his lips.

  He had a quick smile and easy way about him that made you like him at once. His eyes were his best feature. They were deep set and blue. They sparkled when he looked at me.

  He would gaze into my eyes and swear that he loved me, and, for a moment in time, my world was consumed by the bliss of young love and the fire of unbridled sex.

  I believed I was truly happy the day I married Randy two years ago. I recalled that happiness lasting about a week.

  Our wedded bliss started to crumble the first time he slapped me.

  By the end of our first year of marriage, I found myself in a place so dark that I didn’t think I would ever escape it.

  I met Randy when I was just twenty, during my second year of community college. I was going to get a degree in physical therapy. I loved helping people, and ever since I was a little girl, I’d wanted to be a nurse.

  Then my mom reminded me that the mere sight of blood made me faint, so perhaps I should pursue a career that didn’t involve the insides of people, only the outsides.

  Physical therapy seemed like a perfect compromise.

  I received federal grants to pay for part of my tuition. I managed to get a part-time job working at the FoodMart on 10th Street to cover the rest.

  That was where I met Randy.

  He’d been, and still was, the manager of the FoodMart.

  He wore a tie and walked around like he owned the place.

  He’d been flirty during the interview and seemed genuinely interested in my situation.

  He respected me for going to college to better myself.

  He would be happy to help me out by giving me a job.

  He hired me as a night-time cashier.

  My shift was Monday through Friday, from 6 p.m. to midnight, which was perfect since all of my classes were in the daytime.

  Looking back now, knowing what I know, Randy had all the earmarks of an abusive, manipulative asshole from the start. I was just too naïve to see it.

  He was six years older than me and far more mature.

  He flattered me with compliments.

  He always brought me little gifts.

  He’d brush the hair from my cheek with his fingers as we talked.

  He often stood a little too close and would “accidentally” brush his arm against my breast or his crotch against my ass as he was “sliding by” behind the register where I worked.

  I was a foolish girl. A shy, aloof virgin. I’d never been with a man. I didn’t know what to expect or how to respond. If it wasn’t for my medical books, I wouldn’t have even known where all their man parts were located or how they worked.

  I didn’t date much in high school, and by the time I met Randy, I guessed I was starting to think that something was wrong with me. My mom bounced from one bad relationship to another. I was determined not to follow her example. When I got married, I’d make it work, no matter what it took.

  I was tall for a girl, with big boobs and nice curves. I guessed I was pretty, though at the time I had no idea how to apply makeup without looking like a Dolly Parton impersonator.

  So when Randy started coming on to me in his office or in the breakroom, I let it happen. I wouldn’t lie. I encouraged him. I loved the way his hand felt on my breast when he copped a feel. I felt something burning inside me when he stood behind me and let his cock accidentally rub against my ass. Soon, he was asking me to do things that at first frightened me but ultimately turned me on and made me come alive.

  He would find me standing in the back of the store when no one was around. He’d slip up behind me and slide his hands under my blouse and grind his cock into my ass. I would giggle and press my ass into him and playfully tell him to behave.

  Our playfulness escalated the night I was in the ladies’ restroom and he came in and locked the door.

  He pulled out his cock and commanded me to suck it, which I did without hesitation.

  It was thick and hairy and tasted like sweat.

  It was my first time seeing a cock, much less having one in my hand and in my mouth. He told me what to do and I tried to do it right. I left teeth marks on him, but he didn’t complain. He just closed his eyes and grabbed my hair and forced me to take him all in.

  I gagged several times and tried to pull away, but Randy’s fingers were tangled in my hair.

  He pulled my head to him and shot his load into my mouth.

  I was shocked when it happened and nearly threw up on his shoes. My mouth was full of his warm seed. I was horrified and didn’t know what to do.

  He told me to swallow it.

  When I shook my head “no,” he gripped my chin in his hand and pushed my head back. He told me to swallow again and this time I did.

  I can still taste it to this day.

  The memory nauseates me.

  “You’ll do better next time,” he said as he stuffed himself back into his pants. I remember nodding. I figured I was in shock because I couldn’t speak. I just stood there watching him comb his hair in the mirror with a hand over my mouth.

  Then he gave me a big smile and told me that he loved me.

  And in my sad little mind, that made what he’d just done all right.

  That was what people in love did, I thought.

  He was the man.

  I was the woman.

  If he wanted me to suck his cock in the FoodMart ladies�
�� restroom and swallow his seed, that was what I would do, so long as he told me that he loved me.

  I was a fool.

  I know that now.

  I was a stupid girl with ball sweat on her chin and cum on her tongue and stars in her eyes.

  Randy knew he could do anything to me and I would gratefully comply.

  All he had to say was “I love you.”

  We were married within a year. The abuse started the first week.

  First, he starting raising his voice and degrading me for how I cooked and cleaned.

  I was a moron, he said.

  A stupid fucking moron who couldn’t iron a shirt right or boil water in a kettle.

  I couldn’t do anything right in his opinion.

  I was a lousy wife, he said.

  I was lucky he didn’t send me home to mama.

  He made me quit college so I could take on more hours at the store and keep his house.

  Then he started staying out late at night.

  When I’d ask where he’d been, he’d scream in my face until I cried.

  I was supposed to submit, he said, not ask questions about where he was and why there was lipstick on the collar of his shirt.

  Then he started slapping me around.

  Then he started punching me.

  Then he started whipping me with his belt.

  On our first anniversary, he came home drunk and hit me so hard he broke my jaw. After he passed out, a kindly neighbor took me to the emergency room.

  I thank God every day for that punch, because it not only put me in the hospital where I would meet my best friend, Gail, a black ER nurse who would take me under her protective wing, but it also literally knocked some sense into me.

  I knew that if I went back to Randy, the abuse would continue until he hurt me badly or even killed me.

  Even when he showed up at the hospital full of sorrow and bullshit, I knew I’d never submit to his abuse again.

  With Gail at my side, I looked him straight in the eye and told him it was over.