Romance: Motorcycle Club Romance: Outlaw Biker's Baby (Contemporary Alpha Male MC Biker Romance) (Bad Boy MC Biker Pregnancy Romance)

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Romance: Motorcycle Club Romance: Outlaw Biker's Baby (Contemporary Alpha Male MC Biker Romance) (Bad Boy MC Biker Pregnancy Romance) Page 34

by Tia Siren


  ''No allow me.'' He ordered a beer for Elvina, and they clinked glasses. ''How long is it since we've seen each other?'' he asked.

  ''Fifteen years. Something like that,''she said.

  He'd forgotten quite how attractive she was. She was wearing tight jeans which clung to her shapely figure. ''Wow it's so great to see you. Are you married?''

  ''No, divorced. I've got a couple of kids. Two lovely girls.''

  ''What brings you here?''

  ''I live close by, and when I'm at a loose end, I come for a drink and listen to the music. How about you? You got married didn't you?''

  ''Yes and divorced like you. But I haven't got any children, unfortunately.''

  ''You sound sad about it,'' she said pushing her hair from her face.

  Sam looked at her. He liked women wearing lips gloss, and she was wearing plenty. In fact, she was very well made up. ''It's something I regret.''

  ''You talk as if your eighty,'' she said.

  ''Forty next birthday.''

  ''It only seems like yesterday when used to hang around together. We even made love once, do you remember?''

  Sam cringed. ''I do. And I remember I wasn't very good.''

  ''You had a premature ejaculation,'' she said without consideration to his feelings.

  ''Yes. How embarrassing. I was only seventeen, and you were so hot. I remember I couldn't help myself.''

  ''It didn't matter, though. I got you to satisfy me in another way I remember.'' She sipped her beer and narrowed her gaze.

  ''Yes. You taught me a lot,'' he said.

  ''How about you come and sit down with me? Let's talk about old times. It's been so long.''

  ''Okay. Let's do it.''

  Three hours and several beers later Elvina was leaning on her elbow and staring deep into Sam's eyes. ''Do you want to recreate a bit of the old times. With me, tonight?'' she asked. ''Come back to my house with me.''

  ''Do you think I'd last any longer than last time?''

  ''I'm sure you would. A hell of a lot longer.''

  Sam leaned across to her and whispered in her ear. ''Then let's go.'' As he stood up, he felt his phone vibrate. It was Lizzie again. He turned it off before putting it into his pocket.

  When they got outside the air was cool and fresh. ''I'm a bit drunk,'' she said.

  ''Me too, but what the hell does it matter. Let's go and have some fun.''

  He pulled her to him and kissed her. She put her tongue in his mouth and matched the movement of his lips. ''You haven't forgotten how to do that,'' she said. ''You always were a good kisser.''

  She put her arm in his as they walked towards her house. When they arrived at the front gate, they kissed again. Sam put his hands on her buttocks and pulled her to him.

  ''Be patient. Very soon,'' she said as she felt his erection pawing at the inside of his pants.

  He followed her up to her bedroom and sat on the bed as she undressed. When she was naked, she stood in front oh him and looked at his face.

  ''You don't want to do this, do you?'' she said.

  ''I'm sorry. I would love to, but it's.......''

  ''Go,'' she said as she reached for a gown.

  ''We had a lovely evening. Go. Maybe we'll meet again in another fifteen years.''

  ''Thanks, Elvina. I didn't mean to......'' She put her finger to his lips.

  ''It's okay, really.''

  Outside Sam slumped against an oak tree that hung it's leaves over the pavement. He turned his phone on and waited. Ten text messages, all from Lizzie and three missed calls.

  ''Lizzie?''

  ''Sam, thank God. What the fuck are you playing at? I've been worried sick about you. Where are you?''

  ''In Flushing Creek.''

  ''Where the hell's that?''

  ''Five hundred miles from you. It's the town I grew up in.''

  ''Do you want to explain to me what you are doing there and why you sound so drunk?''

  ''Lizzie, I'm sorry. Can I explain everything tomorrow?''

  ''No Sam. You've been ignoring me. I want to know why and I want to know why, now.''

  ''Er.....do you know I was asked to appear before the Ethics Committee?''

  ''Yes. I heard. That's why I was trying to get in touch with you.''

  ''Well, things got a bit out of hand, and I told the Dean to fuck off.''

  ''Yes, I know that as well.''

  ''How?''

  ''His secretary called me. They are worried about you, and so am I.''

  ''They don't give a shit about me. All they want is to see me ruined.''

  Lizzie tutted. ''Stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a man. What's the matter with you? They hold you in very high regard.''

  ''Then why did they suspend me?''

  'Because they made a mistake Sam. I've been looking at the Ethics Charter, and they shouldn't have suspended you. We didn't have a relationship until weeks after I stopped being a cheerleader. The Dean is wrong, and we can appeal it. But not if you keep running from me.''

  ''You know I always do this when I get close to someone?''

  ''Yes. You told me you have an issue with commitment. Well, it doesn't matter Sam. I don't want you now. You can go to hell. Anyone who ignores me like you have is an ass-hole and doesn't deserve me. All I want to do is help you get your job back.''

  *****

  Sam wasn't sure whether he was still under the influence when he began the drive back to Westchester. It was five am and he'd finished drinking about one am. But he didn't care, all he wanted to do was get to Lizzie's apartment as quickly as possible.

  When he finally got there is was four pm, and he was exhausted. He wearily climbed the steps to her apartment and knocked on the door.

  When Lizzie opened, she was wearing red lingerie and a pair of black hold up stockings.

  ''What took you so long?'' she asked.

  ''What?''

  ''I thought you would have been here earlier.''

  ''You told me you didn't want me. If I remember correctly, you told me to go to hell. Now you greet me in sexy clothes and ask where I've been. I'm confused.''

  ''Did you think I was being serious?''

  ''Of course.''

  ''No, I didn't mean a word of it. But it got you back to me didn't it.''

  ''You cunning.......''

  Lizzie squealed as he lifted her from her feet and carried her to the bedroom. ''I'm going to really teach you a lesson for that,'' he said.

  ''Okay, but don't ever run away from me again. Either commit to me here and now or go forever,'' she said.

  ''I love you. I want you. Now stop talking while I undress you.''

  Lizzie stood patiently as Sam unhooked her bra. He stood back to look at her breasts, his gaze making her shy. ''Stop glaring and do something,'' she said.

  ''You are so beautiful. How can I not glare at you?'' He put his hands on her soft mounds and felt how heavy they were. ''My God I've wanted this moment for a long time.''

  As he spoke, he felt her nipples stiffen, and her breathing become faster. ''So have I,'' she said. She started to take off his shirt. Underneath she saw how well defined his muscles were.

  ''I need a shower,'' he said. ''It's been a long journey.''

  ''Take my things off and I'll come with you.''

  ''With pleasure,'' he said.

  He knelt in front of her and put his fingers inside the waistband of her panties. His touch was warm on her skin as he slowly slid the thin material down past her shapely thighs and let it drop to her ankles. His eyes were drawn to the perfectly manicured landing strip in the V between her thighs.

  ''Now you,'' she said. She unfastened his belt and pulled the top button on his jeans open, and slid his zipper down. She put her hand into his pants and felt for his penis. She felt it jump when she touched it. ''Wow. You're not going to disappoint me are you?'' she said referring to his size.

  He slid his pants and shorts down and stood up so she could look at him. ''No, I hope not.''

  When h
e stepped out of the tangled mess of his pants and shorts, she took hold of his hard shaft and led him into the bathroom. When she'd rolled her stockings off, she turned on the water and pushed him into the shower.

  As the water cascaded over them, she pushed him down onto his knees and thrust her groin toward his mouth. She cried out when his tongue touched her wetness. She pulled his head onto her and lifted a leg so he could have easier access to her.

  As his tongue made long strokes over her, the tiny hairs on his chin tickled her. ''That's so nice,” she gasped.''Don't stop. Right there yes.''

  He continued until her legs were shaking so violently she could no longer stand. She hadn't reached orgasm when they left the shower. They fell onto a towel on the bathroom floor. He pushed her legs apart and put his mouth to her once more. Soon she began to feel her pleasure welling up, causing her belly to stiffen and her hands to paw at the skin on the back of his neck.

  ''You smell wonderful,'' he said raising his head for a second. ''So young and fresh. Come for me.''

  When he resumed, he took her over the edge. She thrust her hips from the floor and ground herself on his face until she became too sensitive and pulled away. ''My God,'' she gasped as she rolled onto her side. ''That was great.''

  ''There's plenty more where that came from,'' he said. She loved the shape of his legs and the fine dark hair that covered them. His chest was strong and his biceps bulged when he moved his arms. His penis pointed to the ceiling, and his balls were taught against his shaft. They looked so inviting she couldn't help herself.

  ''Stand up,'' she commanded.

  He stood above her as she began to kiss and lick his balls. They were coarse, and the skin rippled. Her tongue played delicately in the folds, teasing him, making his shaft painfully hard.

  ''Nice?'' she asked.

  ''Yes, very.'' He was enthralled by the sight of her red fingernails on his scrotum as they tweaked his skin teasingly. When she slipped a finger between his legs and began to massage him there, it drove him wild. He rolled her onto her back, pushed her legs as wide as they would go and thrust into her. Lizzie screamed as he parted her, his penis rubbing over the most sensitive places her body possessed.

  She loved the sight of the muscles in his arms straining as he held himself above her. His thrusts were long and firm, and she had to hold onto him to prevent herself from sliding away from him.

  ''Fuck me harder,'' she pleaded. ''Make me come again.'' She saw him grit his teeth and felt his thrusts increase in intensity as he pounded her. Soon her body stiffened, and her face became motionless as a huge rack of pleasure surged from her womanhood. He stopped deep inside her until her orgasm released her from the spams it had held her in for many seconds. She gasped for breath and smiled at him.

  '’You are so pretty,'' he said. ''I love the sight of you when you come.''

  ''Take me to bed,' she said. In the heat of their passion she'd ignored the hardness of the tile floor but now she wanted softness.

  He put her down on her belly and mounted her from behind. ''If you want to know, this is my favorite position, he said. ''I can see all of you from here. Your beautiful ass, your back, your shoulders. You're so hot; I don't know how long I can last.''

  ''Just screw me and shut up,'' she said, eager to feel him moving in and out of her. He gripped her soft hips and pulled her onto him. She gasped and cried out as he began to slap himself against her buttocks. The feel of his penis, as it slid in and out of her, and the feel of the vibrations his hips were causing as they slammed against her, made her scream and come once more. She buried her head in the pillow and groaned. He was insatiable and quickly exhausting her.

  ''Give me your sperm,'' she said. ''I want it inside me.''

  He grunted, shoved into her a few more times, and remained stock still as he gave her every last drop of what she so craved.

  ''That was great,' she said as she rolled onto her back. ''Are you okay?'' she asked when she looked at him. He was bathed in sweat and breathing hard.

  ''Fine, I didn't know I was so out of condition,'' he gasped.

  ''Maybe you ought to join your players on a run or two,'' she said.

  ''So that's what having a young wife is going to be like. Daily runs and serious screwing in the evening. I'll soon be back in shape.''

  ''Wife?'' she said.

  ''Er....no I meant,''

  Before he could finish, she put a finger over his mouth. ''I like wife better than whatever you were going to say.''

  ''Me too,'' he said.

  ''Are you sure? You won't go running away again?''

  ''No. I won't. You are the one for me. Of that, I have no doubt. We will be a rock solid couple.

  *****

  Lizzie found out six weeks later that she was pregnant. Sam was so thrilled he paid for the team to have free drinks all evening in BJ's. He even told Cora she wasn't that bad after all.

  Fatherhood brought a gentler, more understanding side to him which helped no end in training his players. Suddenly there was a bond and results started to come again. By the time his son was three, Sam was being hailed as the best collegiate football coach in the county.

  A year later, he'd been poached by the NFL, where he earned so much money the financial security of his family was guaranteed forever.

  Lizzie finished her studies but chose to be a full-time mom. She had four kids whom she idolized. She and Sam never divorced. They were happy together for the rest of their days.

  *****

  THE END

  STUDENT TEACHER Romance – Professor London

  ''Screw this lock,'' Peter said, taking the key out to make sure it wasn't bent. ''Screw this apartment, screw this area, screw the whole world.'' He put down the bottle of wine he'd bought a few minutes earlier and inserted the key again.

  ''Maybe if you put your weight against it,'' Marion said. He turned the key and at the same time rammed the door with his shoulder. The door flew open, and he fell into the apartment, landing in a drunken heap on the doormat.

  Marion picked up the bottle and stepped over him, anxious to open it and have another drink.

  ''Nice place,'' she said, already in the kitchen rummaging through the drawers to find a corkscrew.

  ''It's far from nice,'' Peter said. ''In fact, it's the worst place I have ever lived in.''

  Peter looked at the phone and saw a light flashing. He pressed the red button and listened.

  ''Peter, where the hell are you? Probably out with one of your little tramps, getting drunk. Do you know what today is? It's Max's birthday. Remember Max, he's your son. We didn't expect you to send a present, but you could have at least called him. You were a lousy husband, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised you turned out to be a lousy father.''

  Peter slumped against the wall next to the phone table and closed his eyes. How the hell did it come to this, he thought?

  ''Haven't you got a corkscrew?'' Marion shouted. Peter went into the kitchen and threw open a drawer. He pointed. Marion was relieved.

  Marion was one of the regulars at the Dragoon Inn, a pub on Grafton Way, in central London. She was a legal secretary by day and a drinker and flirt by night. She'd had her eye on Peter Flowers for some time. She was bored screwing lawyers and businessmen. She wanted to bed a different kind of man, and Peter answered that description. He was very different from her usual type. He never wore a suit, always black jeans, black shirt and gray jacket. She'd never seen him without his trilby, and she liked the fact his wrists were covered in tribal armbands.

  Peter had a variety of places to stop off at on his way home; the Dragoon was one of them. He went there a couple of times a week. Marion had first noticed him two weeks earlier. She'd made the first move. Sitting at the bar alone, mulling over why his marriage had failed so badly, he'd been grateful for her company. What's more, he was charmed by her wide eyes, blonde hair and the way she rubbed her breasts against his shoulder when she sat down.

  He didn't speak of interest rates, co
urt rulings or the state of the national debt like most men in the Dragoon. He spoke to her about the new play at the Alhambra and about the latest book he was reading. A book about a divorced man and how his wife bled him for every cent she could. He told her he loved Rembrandt but not Picasso, and how long the queue usually was to get into the museum in Florence where Michelangelo's sculpture of David was housed.

  By the time they'd finished their first glass of wine, Marion was already desperate to be naked with him. It wasn't just his artistic nature that attracted her to him, though. He was also very handsome. Tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes, his facial features reminded her of a smoldering film star. His chin was robust and his jawline angular.

  After a few more glasses, she invited herself back to his apartment. It was just around the corner.

  ''Why do you think this apartment is nice?'' he asked.

  ''Okay, it's not nice,'' she tossed her bleached hair back. ''It's in a seedy part of town, and the door doesn't open very easily. It's the kind of apartment you would expect a divorced man to live in. But what I meant by nice is how you have decorated it.'' She turned the corkscrew one more time and pulled. Nothing happened, she gave the bottle to Peter.

  He grunted as he pulled and almost fell backwards when the cork gave in to his onslaught. ''Decorated? I haven't done a thing to this place,''

  ''The paintings, the sculptures, the books. I love it. It's messy, but I love it.'' She walked to the door which led to the small lounge. There was a set of bookshelves on the far wall; the shelves bent by the weight of the heavy volumes they were carrying. There was a sculpture of some Greek Goddess, Marion didn't know. She sat down on the red sofa. ''No TV?'' she asked.

  ''I hate TV.'' He sat next to her. ''What the hell is ever on TV that is of any interest? When TV was invented, the world was full of hope for its role in society. It was supposed to inform and educate. It has failed miserably on both fronts.''

  ''Kiss me, Peter, I want you,'' she said. ''I've wanted you since I first saw you. You're different.''

  ''How so different?'' he asked rolling the stem of the wine glass between thumb and forefinger.

  ''You're artistic, sensitive, and you know how to talk to women.''

 

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