Buying My Bride_A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance

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Buying My Bride_A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance Page 4

by Zoey Parker


  Can’t argue with that, I thought. It’s just good business.

  I quickly agreed and asked for her number so we could text and correspond before meeting. This one took a little longer, but eventually I received an email with that, too. I tried it out immediately.

  Beautiful.

  A second later, she texted back, Me?

  Unless someone else was in the picture.

  There was a long pause, then, No, that was me. And you?

  What about me?

  Was that you in the picture?

  I grinned a little. I thought the shot of my abs might prove a little more enticing. Not that the money wasn’t.

  Yes, I responded. We should discuss the terms.

  It was a while before the woman finally answered and I was half nervous for just a second that she’d reconsidered the whole thing. But then my phone buzzed.

  It’s late. I have work tomorrow, but text me the details. I’ll respond when I can.

  I sent a quick okay, then I asked one last question. What’s your name?

  Allison.

  I licked my lips as I set the phone down. Leaning back in my chair, I put together the few details I had of her. Her wicked body, smooth and shaped just right. Her name. Sweet, normal, promising. I wondered where she worked. A strip club? With that body, it wouldn’t surprise me, but she didn’t seem like a stripper type. There wouldn’t have been this much hesitation about sleeping with me – and she wouldn’t be a virgin. I knew the difference between a stripper and a prostitute, but if you were okay with one, you were generally fine with the other, too. And what woman was okay with taking off her clothes for a living, but was a prude when it came to sex?

  Still, I wouldn’t mind a private show. I’d give her something to wear. Maybe something cute, innocent. Then make her take it off a piece at a time while I watched.

  My cock twitched, reminding me that it was still eager to meet this woman and make good on our arrangement. She was a virgin, so I reminded myself to be good to her. To make her enjoy it before I got what I needed out of it. I needed to be careful with her, to ease her into what I had planned for the weekend.

  I pulled up her picture on the laptop again. It wasn’t overly kinky and it didn’t show me her tight little pussy, but there was something about it that had me rock hard.

  Maybe it was because I knew no other man had touched that yet. Maybe it was just the excitement of having my way with her. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I needed something from her and she seemed willing to offer it.

  I unzipped my pants and pulled them down enough to slip out my large dick. I was throbbing, the mushroomed head of me slick with my own lubricant. God, I wanted her. I palmed the head, then used the lube to slide down the shaft. I gripped myself hard and began to jerk myself off. My eyes remained fixated on the picture, lending fuel to my imagination.

  She had a perfect, round ass. I wanted to spank it, just until it was red. Not overly sore, but a little tender. And those tits… I wouldn’t mind seeing them bounce. She’d agreed to the tattoo, but staring at those erect nipples made me wish I’d asked her to let me pierce her, too. She’d look good with nipple rings. Something to tug on…

  I continued to stroke myself, starting from the base of my cock and traveling up the shaft to the head. All the while I thought of the things I could do with her.

  I’d tie up her hands, but not behind her back. No, I’d pull them above her and hang her from the hook. Maybe she’d need a little support, so I’d put it over the bed and let her knees just touch it. Then I could do as I pleased with her. Maybe I’d put a blindfold over her eyes first. That way she wouldn’t see the sensations coming.

  The feathers across her nipples, chased by clamps. The crop across her perky, full ass.

  My mind filled with images of her as I jerked myself harder and faster. My climax was coming before I managed to even gag her in my mind. It was unreal and more satisfying than anything I’d had lately.

  “God, I hope she’s that good in person,” I murmured to no one.

  # # #

  I was sketching out several designs, including the woman I had coming in late that afternoon, but my mind was only half into it. I was too giddy with the prospect of Allison, my little virgin. We were texting on and off today, catching messages when we had a free moment. We both worked, though I hadn’t asked her where. It wasn’t all that important. This was a business transaction and while I was excited just the same, it didn’t mean I needed the whole layout of her life. I just needed the important stuff.

  Was she clean? If she was really a virgin, she was.

  Was she unmarked by tattoos?

  Was she unattached?

  It didn’t really matter in the sense that it was her own body, but I wasn’t interested in having any part of another man’s woman. Cheating brought too much drama. Why bother with it when there were plenty of other women out there? Most of them more than happy to spread their legs for me.

  Other than those stipulations, I wasn’t really concerned about the details. I would go over my terms with her, because it was important that she understood what was happening – and to make sure she couldn’t turn around and bring legal action against me. I wouldn’t be having any of that crap.

  It was one thing for a woman to change her mind and walk. That was fine. But I wouldn’t have her turn around and then accuse me of being some sadistic barbarian. The legal stuff was important.

  And of course, I had to make sure I got her the money.

  A million and a half was a lot to move at once. Sure, she only needed half up front and half after the weekend, but that was still 1.5 million dollars moving from my account in only a few days. It was the main reason I had asked for the whole weekend instead of picking days during the week. I needed the time to get the funds in order.

  “What’s got you all worked up?”

  Leo’s voice pulled me from my thoughts of Allison. I glanced up from my sketch, looking over my shoulder at my friend. “What d’ya mean?”

  He shrugged, then folded his arms across his chest. “Nothing. Just that you seem… excited or something.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Seriously. You’re practically vibrating with it.”

  “Fuck off,” I told him, returning my attention to the design.

  Leo just laughed at me. “Yeah, definitely not worked up about something.”

  I made a noncommittal sound low in my throat. Leo didn’t say anything more, but he stood there leaning against the door jamb for a long while. I didn’t have to look over at him to know that he was grinning.

  Asshole.

  Throwing my pencil down, I gave up on the Inkes. I swiveled my chair around to face him. “You don’t really get the whole ‘fuck off’ thing, do you?”

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  Sighing, I shook my head and muttered about stupid people. Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, I changed the subject to the weekend. “Listen, I’m going to be out of touch for a couple of days this weekend.”

  Leo’s eyebrows rose high on his head in response to this. I didn’t take time off like this very often and never with so short of notice. “Jeez, someone die or something?” It was a joke, but he instantly looked panicked. He must have realized how likely that was. “Shit, sorry, bro. I was only kidding. Your mom’s okay, right?”

  “Easy, buddy. My mom’s fine. Sends her best and all that crap.” My mother was inexplicably fond of Leo. “I just need a few days to clear up some business this weekend.”

  Leo visibly relaxed. He liked my mom, too, and would’ve been devastated if something had actually happened to her. “Oh, good. Great. Jeez, you nearly gave me a damn heart attack.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You nearly gave yourself one. I just asked for some time off.”

  “Which is the same thing. Just saying.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “So what’s going on then?”

  I thought about ju
st telling him. Leo already knew a lot about my sex life, though he couldn’t understand the extent of it. We’d known each other a long time and that meant we shared a lot with each other. He would probably think this was all a little crazy, especially if I told him the dollar amount, but he wouldn’t have any moral objections. But I ultimately decided I didn’t want to share this.

  “Just some personal stuff I need to take care of. Don’t worry about it; I’ll be back by Monday.”

  Leo eyed me, still skeptical. Eventually, he just shrugged though. “Alright. Whatever you say.”

  Whatever I say. That’s always been the point, hasn’t it?

  There was a lot of misinformation out there these days about what being a Dominant with a capital D meant. Terms like controlling and abusive got thrown around a lot, usually interchangeably. But it wasn’t so simple. I didn’t abuse my subs. At least… I didn’t, intentionally.

  My mind flashed to Sandra, the woman I’d wanted so desperately to spend the rest of my life with.

  She’s out of the picture now, I scolded myself. It’s time to move on. It’s time to try again.

  I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it and maybe it was unfair of me to think that starting off with someone new, someone who didn’t know anything about the lifestyle – or sex at all – was the way to do it. But I had to try something. I was desperate for release and relief. Things I just wasn’t getting from the vanilla sex most women wanted. I was tired of it.

  With this girl… Maybe I could mold her through her first experience. I could show her the delights of being a submissive with a Dom that honestly just wanted to take care of her. There was a good chance she wouldn’t bite, or that this was a sham altogether. But in a unique situation like this, at least I could try.

  She could be my stepping stone back into the D/s world.

  When I had a minute, I sent Allison a quick text. You understand you’ll have to sign a contract.

  There was a long pause and I figured she was still at work, so I likely wouldn’t get one for a while. But then my phone buzzed as she got back to me. Yes. For services rendered?

  Something along those lines. It’s just to ensure you can’t extort me for more money – and I’m required to pay you at the end of our weekend.

  Win-win, she sent back.

  I smiled a little. I like to think so. But there are some other details to go over, too. I’d like to meet in person this Friday.

  There was silence for a while and this time I was pretty sure it was because she’d hit one of those nervous points of hers. She had them whenever we were talking about details: Do you have a preference of hotel? Room? Floor? Are you comfortable with toys or sex games this weekend?

  Some of them were just awkward for her, which made me think she was being honest about her virginity. But some of them were clearly something else. They suggested hesitance at this whole endeavor, and I was beginning to wonder if she would show at all. It was obvious she needed the money, but people chickened out of stuff all the time, even when they needed it.

  Okay.

  I considered a few options about the meeting now that she’d agreed to it. Of course, I wanted a neutral location where we could meet without strings attached. I wanted her to feel like she could walk away if she needed to, though she wouldn’t get her money. A deal was a deal. But I also wanted at least a little privacy to discuss any further details and sign the contracts.

  The tattoo shop was too close to home. People would ask questions, especially Leo. A library was too quiet, a home too personal. Finally, I decided that a coffee shop or small diner would be best. We could talk in the presence of others without being watched too closely. And she could leave whenever she needed to.

  I texted her the address and told her to bring her own car and an overnight bag. After the paperwork was signed, we’d dive straight into the weekend. I was going to soak up as much time with her as I could.

  She agreed quickly this time. We had a date.

  Chapter Five

  Allison

  Friday came in the blink of an eye. The week passed in a surreal haze and I wondered if this whole thing had been a dream. Except that I had the emails and now the text messages, too, that proved this was really happening. I was selling my virginity to a complete stranger.

  A hot stranger.

  Assuming his picture was real and any kind of accurate. It was all the dangers of a blind date with twice the risk. Not exactly encouraging. But every time I was on the verge of talking myself out of it, I saw that picture of me and my sister at the park a few years back. She was still so young with braces and twin braids. Happy, healthy. That picture reminded me why I was doing this.

  I couldn’t and wouldn’t back out now.

  It was one in the afternoon and I was still packing. I was supposed to meet this guy – Jules, he called himself – at a little coffee shop downtown in an hour. It was only for the weekend, so packing should have been easy, but I was struggling with it.

  Did I pack a dress? Heels? Lingerie? A sweatshirt? Sleeping clothes?

  Would I even do much sleeping?

  I licked my lips, my mind wandering to the places I was both scared and thrilled to go. No matter the circumstances, I was still about to have sex for the first time. Sure, it was for a lot of money and with a complete stranger, but I had to give it up sometime. And now that the possibility was looming ever nearer, I found that my trepidation was mixed with excitement.

  Everyone said that sex was amazing – just not the first time. But he wanted a whole weekend with me! Maybe that was just so he could do the tattoo… but I didn’t think so. I figured he’d want to get his money’s worth, and one point five million dollars was a lot of money.

  I shivered at the thoughts of what could happen this weekend. It could be good, great even. Or it could be the worst experience of my life.

  All I could hope for was that I would get lucky.

  The little duffle bag sitting on the edge of my bed was basically empty. I had a few toiletries with me, just the essentials, and that was it. I still hadn’t settled on the clothing yet, and I doubted I’d have time for a book or anything. But I did make sure to pack a cell phone charger and stash some cash in a couple of different places, just in case I had to make an emergency exit and couldn’t get to my car.

  Strewn alongside the bag was a variety of different clothing. Everything from yoga pants to a parka— which was a little ridiculous. We weren’t likely to be spending any time in the arctic. But I was still trying to figure out what I was comfortable with bringing with me. The parka had been one of the first things I’d decided I was okay with.

  Sighing, I reluctantly set it aside. Comfortable or no, I wasn’t taking that. This was supposed to be a sexy weekend, not a ski trip.

  The second thing I got rid of was the ankle-length nightgown that had once belonged to my mother. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be wearing that. But I did want to pack something for sleeping in, right? Scrunching up my face, I settled on an oversized t-shirt was a hand-me-down from someone, though I couldn’t remember who. I folded it neatly, then placed it within the bag.

  “Okay. Sleep clothes, check.”

  Next, I needed day clothes. Jeans would be my normal pick, but maybe a dress was the way to go? It would be flirty and pretty, unlike most of my threadbare and ratty go-to outfits. Other than my diner uniform, I didn’t wear a lot of dresses.

  Holding up a pretty purple one that had been a gift from Christel, I debated taking this. Or did I wear it to meet him? I’d already sent him a picture of my body. A blush crawled up my cheek at the memory, but I had the feeling it was still important to impress him at this first meeting.

  Which was why I sighed and decided I wouldn’t bring the sweats. Even though I really wanted to.

  Instead, I ended up packing the dress and picking a nicer pair of black skinny jeans and a blue top to wear today. I wouldn’t wear heels, because—

  Well, because I was still scared. I needed to be
able to run if there was reason to. So, Converse it was. Maybe not super fancy, but they went with everything, right?

  I threw in a couple more outfits. A skirt, another pair of jeans, some t-shirts that were nicer. Then I finally had to pick out panties and bras. I didn’t really have specific ‘sexy’ ones, so there wasn’t much to dig through. Instead, I just went with things that would match what I’d already packed. I’d wear the one lacy bra today, because it happened to work with my top, but the rest were t-shirt bras, more or less.

  When I’d packed everything up, I showered and dried my hair. Then I took some time to do my makeup. I got dressed and, finally, I was ready to go.

 

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