Tied to Him

by Tia Siren

  Audrey smiled at me. “Yes, I did say that.”

  “I want you to save me, Audrey,” I said, putting my arms around her and pulling her close. “Please, I need you to save Kiley’s daddy. You are our last hope.”

  “Oh, Chase,” she said, pressing her lips to mine. “Let’s save each other.”

  “What do you need saving from, my dear?” I asked, resting my cheek against her forehead.

  “A life without you.”

  I grinned. “Now that was silly.”

  “Yes, it was,” she said. “Now, shut up and kiss me.”

  EPILOG: Audrey

  Chase crawled into bed beside me and lifted his arm so I could cuddle up close and rest my head on his chest. He pulled the covers up around me and tucked me in.

  I loved how warm he felt lying next to me on these cold winter nights. His body seemed to radiate heat, especially when I was doing things that made his temperature rise. He was my personal heater, and I knew how to fuel his fire.

  It probably would have been wiser for us to wear pajamas to bed, but we swore to each other that we’d only wear clothes to bed when we got old. Or when we had kids, which I hoped was sooner rather than later.

  Getting his tenure terminated at Trent State was the best thing that could have happened to Chase. He had enough money saved to not worry about working for a year, so he started writing again, something he hadn’t done since Kiley passed away.

  And the fact that he quit buying cigarettes and alcohol also helped him maintain his budget.

  He quit the booze cold turkey but had a heck of a time kicking the cigarette habit. Thanks to a ton of nicotine patches and the loving support of yours truly, he finally quit smoking six months ago.

  The result of his renewed creativity was Kiley’s Wings, a story about a little girl who becomes an angel and helps children understand what happens when people pass away.

  It was a beautiful story that made me cry every time I read it. Kiley’s Wings was set to be published in a few weeks by a major New York City publisher. They expected it to be a bestseller, but that didn’t seem to matter to Chase. Writing the story was therapy for him. The day he finished the manuscript was the day he finally knew that Kiley was looking down on him and smiling, so proud of the man her daddy had become.

  I finished my degree in the fall and Chase I were married a month later. We were both tired of the Florida heat, so we moved to a little cottage in Vermont, just a few miles from where Chase had grown up.

  I loved Vermont nine months out of the year, but at the moment I was freezing my ass off.

  “Are you cold?” Chase asked, pulling me in close.

  I tucked the heavy quilt under my chin and shivered against him. “What do you think?”

  “I think I can warm you up,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

  “I think I can warm up on my own,” I said, smiling up at him.

  He leaned down to kiss me as my hand trailed down his chest, across his stomach, to his curly pubes. I teased him for a moment, tugging at the short hairs with my finger nails, and then let my hand slide down to his already hard cock.

  “Well, hello, Mr. Hollander,” I said with a sigh as my hand started rolling the skin back and forth over the rigid shaft. “Are you happy to see me, or are you happy to see me?”

  “I’m very happy to see you, Mrs. Hollander,” he said, sliding his tongue into my mouth as my hand milked his cock.

  He massaged my breast and rubbed his thumb across my nipple, which grew long and hard at his touch. His other hand was around me, clutching my ass. His fingers slid into my crack and teased my asshole for a moment. I pushed my ass out a little to give him better access. I held my breath as his slid in a finger up to the first knuckle and gently swirled it around.

  “That feels amazing,” he said as I threw back the quilt and leaned up so I could milk his cock better. His finger slid out of my ass and moved to my pussy, which was flowing like a hot spring. He dipped his finger into my pussy to lube it up and then slid it back into my ass up to his knuckle. I moaned at the wonderful pain.

  The room was still cold, but our bodies were giving off steam.

  I lowered my lips to his cock head as my hand slid up and down the shaft. I wrapped my lips around his cock and slid it into my mouth until I felt the tip hit the back of my throat. I didn’t gag. I pulled my lips back and slid his cock into my mouth again. I was getting better at taking him all into my mouth. Someday I’d surprise him with a little deepthroat action. Until then, he certainly didn’t complain.

  I glanced up at him with his cock still in my mouth. Then I let it slide out and ran my tongue beneath the head, loving the way his eyes went dreamy as I teased the little bundle of nerves just below the slit.

  He blew out a deep breath and said, “Get on top of me.”

  I let go of his cock long enough to straddle him. He held his cock steady as I lowered my pussy onto him. I closed my eyes and held my breath as the head of his cock slid inside me. I paused for a moment and smiled at him, and then I slowly lowered myself onto him until my pussy was filled with his wonderful manhood.

  I braced my palms on his chest and squeezed his nipples hard as I started slowly sliding my ass back and forth so his cock would slide in and out of me and brush my clit along the way. Chase liked to fuck me from behind, but this was my favorite position because every inch of my cunt got to play.

  Chase massaged my tits and teased my nipples as I rode his cock back and forth. I grinned to myself. Rachel had wanted me to ride a cock all those months ago. If you had told me that night how my life would have turned out, I would not have believed you.

  Me with the asshole professor who gave me an F?

  No fucking way!

  Chase was tensing up beneath me. He slid his hands under my thighs and started lifting me up and down on his cock—literally lifting me up and down with his powerful forearms and then slamming me back down until my pussy was impaled by his cock in a single thrust. Our bodies made slapping noises as our flesh came together.

  “Oh god…” I moaned, leaning forward with my fingers digging into his chest. I closed my eyes and panted through my lips.

  Chase was jackhammering me onto him now, slamming my pussy onto his cock like a derrick drilling for oil.

  “I’m…coming…” he said.

  “So…am…I…”

  He lifted his ass off the bed until I was riding him like a bucking bronco. I started moving my ass back and forth and came at the same time he did.

  My pussy walls tightened around his thick cock as I milked the hot cum out of him.

  I squirted when I came, showering his cock and hips with my hot juices.

  We made a fucking mess. Literally.

  Our bodies were drenched in sweat and cum and pussy juice.

  But we didn’t care.

  We didn’t care about anything but being together.

  Forever.

  I collapsed into Chase’s arms and struggled to catch my breath.

  He kissed me and told me that he loved me.

  I told him that I loved him, too.

  We had done it. We had saved each other.

  And we had a little angel to thank for it.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading Big Bad Professor. This book contains various bonus stories for your enjoyment. Please refer to the table of contents to choose what to read next or continue reading for Big Bad Alpha

  Big Bad Alpha: A Billionaire Romance

  CHAPTER ONE: Olivia Poole

  I was sitting on our ratty sofa in our ratty SoHo apartment with my guitar in my lap, working on the melody for a new song for our band, the Flakes, when out of the blue, Mona said, “Check this out. They say he has a fuck list.”

  My fingers froze on the strings. I gave her a sideways glance and spoke with the nub of a chewed pencil clenched between my teeth. “They say who has a fuck list?’

  “Cain Bohannon,” she huffed, referring to the hunky
billionaire CEO of Bohannon Entertainment Group, the online music company that was giving Apple and Sony a run for their money.

  Bohannon Entertainment Group, or BEG as it was known in the industry, was the fastest-growing digital music company on the planet. And they were on the hunt for fresh talent, which was why Cain Bohannon himself was supposedly going to attend the battle of the bands at the Rusty Nail this coming Saturday night.

  The Flakes, along with a dozen other local bands, would be battling it out for the top prize: a million-dollar recording contract with BEG and the chance to open for some of BEG’s top stars, like Brandy Alexander and Candy the Rapper.

  It was the chance of a lifetime to grab the golden ring every band would die for. Or kill for. The Flakes included.

  The thought of playing live in front of someone like Cain Bohannon scared me to death, but I knew it could be our only chance to get noticed, so we had to shine.

  Our playing, singing, and songwriting had to be top notch, better than every other band on the stage. We had to rise above the noise. We had to offer Cain Bohannon something no other band could.

  It wasn’t going to be enough that we would be the only all-girl band on the bill. We had to stand out like a sore thumb, but in a good way.

  Mona had even suggested we change the name of the band to the Sore Thumbs. Thinking that would be a patently obvious yet pathetic cry for attention, Desiree and I had voted it down.

  My roommate, Mona, our drummer, didn’t seem as concerned about it as I did. Neither did Desiree, our bass player, who slept on our couch if she couldn’t’ find a guy to sleep with. I guess they left the worrying to me because I worried enough for all three of us.

  I lay awake nights going over chord progressions and writing lyrics in my head. I put my heart and soul into the band, my blood, sweat, and tears. I could only pray that someday our hard work would pay off.

  I knew we had talent, but the city was filled with talented bands. I knew from experience that talent would only take us so far, especially in the cutthroat music business.

  You needed luck.

  You needed opportunity.

  You needed connections.

  And more than anything, you needed someone with money, power, and pull who could make things happen.

  You could have all the talent in the world, but unless you had all those other things, you’d probably die undiscovered, which was my worst nightmare.

  I took the pencil from between my teeth and tucked it behind my ear. Then I leaned my guitar against the sofa to take a break. My fingers were killing me from practicing so much. I kneaded them together and gave Mona a frown.

  I said, “Cain Bohannon has a fuck list?”

  Mona tapped the screen of the laptop resting on her knees and nodded her head. “That’s what this says. Cain Bohannon has a fuck list. According to Radar Online, he keeps it on his phone.”

  “Exactly what is a fuck list?”

  “A list of women he has fucked, and a list of women he plans to fuck,” Mona said seriously, narrowing her eyes at the screen.

  “So, is it one list or two?” I asked, smirking. “Have fucked, wanna fuck… Does he keep it in an Excel file? Or does he use note cards or—”

  “Good question,” she said, scrolling through the webpage. “I think it’s just one all-inclusive list. It doesn’t say how he keeps up with it. Is there a fuck list app?”

  She glanced at me with her dark eyes and smiled. Mona was goth incarnate. She was heroin-addict thin (though she didn’t drink or do drugs), always dressed all in black, and had her hair chopped short and dyed the color of a crow’s wings. She wore heavy mascara and black lipstick. Her fingernails and toenails were painted black. All the black contrasted with her naturally fair complexion, giving her an ominous, ghostly look.

  I was the polar opposite of Mona, which made us an odd pair of bandmates and best friends. I had long blond hair that I usually wore in a ponytail and only wore makeup when I was onstage. Mona often chided me by saying that I was an Aryan Nations wet dream: blond hair, blue eyes, big boobs, bubble butt. I couldn’t argue. That pretty much described me to a tee.

  I nodded at the computer and gave her an inquisitive look. “How do you know he has a fuck list?”

  “Because that’s what they say,” she said with a shrug.

  “And who is they, exactly?” I couldn’t resist tweaking her a little. Mona was like a spinning top. Just give her a little spin and she would go off in all directions.

  “You know, they…them… Jesus, Liv, don’t be such an asshole,” she said, gesturing at the screen. “It’s all over the Internet.”

  “So that makes it true,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Do they say who is on Cain Bohannon’s fuck list?”

  She narrowed her eyes and tapped a black-tipped finger to her chin. “They say that all the big names are on there. Singers, actresses, Victoria’s Secret models…”

  “Does his list have specific names?” I asked thoughtfully. “Or does he just do it by category?”

  “Why are you being such a dick?” she asked, trying hard not to smile. “It’s a fuck list. Leave it at that.”

  I grinned at her and bobbed my head. “Fair enough. Cain Bohannon has a fuck list.” I pooched out my lips in thought. “I wonder how one gets on that list.”

  Her black eyebrows arched. “Maybe there’s a formal application process. Do you want me to see if you can apply online?”

  “Hey, if it will get him to notice our music, I might fuck him,” I said jokingly. I picked up the guitar and placed my fingers to strum an E chord.

  “They also say Cain Bohannon is so rich that he doesn’t have an alarm clock,” Mona said as she closed the laptop and set it on the couch beside her. She picked up the drumsticks that were on the table and started tapping out a beat on her knee.

  I sighed and took the bait. “Wait. What?”

  “They say that instead of using an alarm clock to wake up in the morning, he has a girl come in and wake him up by giving him a blow job.” Mona said it like it was gospel. She held one of the drumsticks to her mouth and flicked her tongue to the round tip. She moaned. “Mmm…time to wake up, Cain.”

  “Okay, first of all, that’s wrong on so many levels,” I said, scrunching up my nose at the thought of an oral alarm clock. “Second of all, you’re a lesbian. What do you know about blow jobs?”

  She tapped the drumstick to her chin and smiled. “I experimented a little before I signed on to team lesbo. I’ve had a few dicks in my mouth. Can’t say I liked it much. They always tasted so…sweaty.”

  “Gross,” I chuckled. “So, he has a girl come in every morning to wake him up with a blow job.” I cupped my chin and put on a thoughtful face. “Is it the same girl every time? Or does he have a different girl for each day of the week or month?”

  “They didn’t say,” she said, pushing her thin shoulders up and down. “I would think it would be at least a different girl every day of the week. That’s what I’d do if I had his money. A different girl coming in to give me head every morning.”

  She held one of the drumsticks to her crotch and moved her hand up and down as she gave me an evil grin.

  “When the Flakes make it big, I’m going to do that. Have a different bitch come in every morning and wake me up munching on my rug.”

  “You don’t get up till the afternoon,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And the last time I saw you naked, you didn’t even have a rug.”

  “Well, it will be a flexible schedule,” she said. “And maybe I’ll grow my rug back by then.” She glanced at the watch on the thick black leather band around her wrist. “Anyway, I have to get to the Nail for my shift at six. Do you work tonight?”

  The Nail was The Rusty Nail, the club where the battle of the bands would be held tomorrow night. Mona and I worked there as waitresses to make ends meet until the Flakes got a record deal. Or until we got tired of chasing the dream and moved on to boring, normal lives. God forbid we have to grow up and get m
arried and squeeze out a bunch of kids. How totally boring would that be?

  “I’m on the late shift,” I said with a tired sigh. “So I’ll be there around nine.”

  “Okay. In the meantime, write us a killer song,” she said, tossing the drumsticks on the table and pushing herself off the couch. “And figure out how to get on Cain Bohannon’ fuck list. If our talent doesn’t blow him away, maybe your big boobs and bubble butt will.”

  “I’ll get right to work on that,” I said, tugging the pencil from behind my ear and setting it on the pad of paper on the coffee table. I strummed an E chord and sang her out the door.

  “Baby, put me on your fuck list…”

  CHAPTER TWO: Cain Bohannon

  The room was still dark because of the heavy drapes and blackout blinds installed over the wall of windows that faced the east river from my penthouse apartment.

  I had earplugs in, but I was awake enough to hear the bedroom door open. I felt the king-sized bed bounce when she climbed in and cuddled up next to me.

  I didn’t move.

  I didn’t open my eyes.

  I felt her head on my chest.

  Her warm breath, and then her wet tongue, teased my hard nipple.

  She trailed her fingernails down the line of my stomach, circling my belly button for a moment before swirling into the thick curls above my cock.

  Her lips moaned against my nipple as her fingers closed around my cock and started slowly sliding up and down. I was already hard and waiting for her, as I was every morning, but her touch always brought out more of me.

  When I grew to full length in her hand, I felt her lips start their downward trek. She planted little kisses down my stomach. She pulled at the dark curls with her teeth. Then her mouth engulfed the bulbous head of my cock as her hand slowly pumped up and down.

  I took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly.

  Faleen’s lips and tongue were like magic. In less than a minute, I exploded inside her mouth. She hummed as she swallowed my load. Then she cleaned me off with her tongue as she had every morning for as long as I could remember.

  God, I loved waking up in the morning.