Romance: Bad Boy Romance: Rough Play - A British Football Romance (Alpha Male Romance) (New Adult Sports Romance) (5 page)

BOOK: Romance: Bad Boy Romance: Rough Play - A British Football Romance (Alpha Male Romance) (New Adult Sports Romance)
5.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Ignoring all the follow-up questions Danny put his arm around Amber and went back into the house. He closed the front door and threw her against the wall. She struggled for breath as
he
kissed her and felt for her zipper. He slid her pants down until they reached her ankles, her panties followed. He picked her up and held her against the wall. She kicked her legs free of the garments and hooked herself around him.

''Oh God I want this,'' she moaned.

He
freed
his penis and in one fluid movement thrust up and into her, making her cry out. She held him tightly as he took her. He pulled her blouse open and took out her breasts. He was wild, demanding her, and taking
exactly
what he wanted.

''I'm coming,' Amber shrieked. She began to shake as she held onto him, his trusts so
strong
her whole body shuddered violently under the force. He cried out and held onto her as they enjoyed their first mutual orgasm.

They collapsed in a heap on the hallway floor, both totally out of breath, Danny still deep inside her.

 

*****

 

''Hi babe,'' Danny said. ''How's college?''

''Great.
Almost done.
Two more months,'' Amber replied from her student apartment at Yale.

''Then you'll be a WAG.''

''A what?''

''Wives and Girlfriends, WAG.''

''Oh yes, how stupid of me.''

''You
're not stupid
. Without
you,
I would still be the old Danny. Now I can read what they say about my footballing skills, although sometimes when I read what they write,
I
wish I was still illiterate.''

''That's what I love about you Danny Constance, you're sense of humor.''

''Don't speak too soon, when you come back to England and live with me, you'll have to put up with it all day.''

“I don't care as long as I'm with you.''

*****

THE END

 

ALPHA BILLIONAIRE Romance - Bad Boy Billionaire

 

1

 

Dana loved her business. That was an odd thing to admit to
herself
since she had never even used a sex toy in her life. She pleasured herself of course, but she had never felt the need to use something like one of the latex dildo’s she rang up and placed into
discrete
black plastic bags for her customers.

Dana was three years out of business school, and she had known exactly the kind of business she wanted to be in. After all, sex sells. She opened The Treasure Box a month after graduating, and it hadn’t taken long
for
the little shop to take off. It was a squat square building with
dim
windows and a parking lot in the rear. Everyone liked to buy sex toys, but no one
liked
to be seen doing it.

The shop started off doing well, and Dana had hired Jeff, a
thirty-something
stoner
to help out, and so she could
actually
have a day or two off here and there.
Lately,
though, the
business
had been down. The internet was cutting into her profits more and more, and she had let Jeff go. He had been more disappointed that he had never managed to get her into bed, more than he
was bummed
about losing his job.

Dana was attractive, and she knew it. She was lithe but curvy, with large breasts and a bubble butt.
She
had a flat
tummy
and
long brown
hair which she always pulled back into a
simple
ponytail. She didn’t put much effort into looking good, but she didn’t have to. Her lips were full and pouty, her eyes smoky and a grayish blue. She had white teeth and a perfect smile, and her voice was husky. Jeff had always said she looked like she could have been a famous actress in the forties.

She wasn’t quite twenty-five, and she had had a string of boyfriends since
highschool
, but none ever amounted to much of anything. Just a bit of fun, and then they wanted something more serious, and she freaked out and ended it.

Most guys expected her to be a sexual creature, owning a sex shop and everything, but Dana had always tended to be a little bit vanilla in bed. She had grown up in an ultra conservative household, and it had affected her. Her mother had almost fainted when she told her she was opening a shop which sold dildos and fake vaginas, and her father hadn’t talked to her for over a year. Things were better now, but her parents never asked about her business.

 

It was a Thursday when she met him. Gregory Jones, tall dark and handsome. He entered The Treasure Chest alone. It was ten in the
morning;
Dana had just opened. No one else was there yet, and the young woman had been stocking a new shipment of cock rings near the back of the store. She had heard the bell ring, a little silver chime which hung over the doorway, and
was rocked
when the door opened and hit it.

She called out to her new customer. “I’m back here, yell when you’re ready to check out.”

There wasn’t an answer for a moment, and it made Dana nervous. She stood up and turned, just in time to see the sexiest looking man she had ever seen step around the final aisle and smile at her. He was tanned and tall, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw that made it seem as though he had missed his calling as a superhero. His hair was fair, blonde and
wavy
though he kept it trimmed quite short. He was wearing a suit which looked expensive to even Dana’s eye, untrained as it was in such matters.

“Hey there,” the man said. “I could use your help.”

“What can I do for you?” Dana asked, and she realized she was holding a cock ring package. She put it down quickly, her cheeks burning. The man seemed to take note of her sudden flash of embarrassment, his brow rising on his forehead, but he was too much of a gentleman to say anything about it.

“Do you sell strapon dildos?”

Dana nodded. “Sure, follow me.”

She had to step
around the man
to get out of the aisle, and she brushed against him slightly, and when she did, it was as if her whole body exploded. She felt a heat, and she realized that she had just met the man, but she wanted him badly already.

She went towards the middle of the store, down an
aisle
with a few strapon dildo choices.

“Ah, thank you,” the man said.

“Sure, I’ll be up front when you’re ready,” Dana said, and she turned to
leave,
but the man held up a hand.


Actually,
I need some more help. I don’t know much about these.”

“Wife send you in?” Dana asked.

“Something like that,” Gregory laughed, and then he held up his hand, showing that he wore no ring. “No
wife,
though. Not really a girlfriend either. Just a woman, I’m afraid. I hope you don’t think I’m some
sort of
lecherous worm.”

“Hey, your business is your own business, and if it means you’re buying from me, it’s
good
business.”

“I’ve never had this request, I must admit,” the man said. “I’m certainly adventurous enough, but this young lady would like me to watch her… with one of her friends.”

Dana blushed
again
and nodded.

“Does sex embarrass you?” the man asked.

“No,” Dana
whispered
.

“I’m Greg,” the man said, holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Dana shook his hand, and then, after hearing his name, she realized she knew him. Well, knew who he was at least.

“You’re Gregory Jones,” she said, and the man nodded. She went on. “You founded Cast Me dot com.”

CastMe.com was a website which had grown
popular
over the two years since its launch. Wannabe actors, singers, and other entertainers could pay a monthly fee to post demos on the site. Then management companies, production companies, and places like that, which had partnered with the site, could go and look for whatever they needed. More than a few new faces had
been found
for some
big
products, and everyone looking to make it big in entertainment was signing up. Greg had become a billionaire when he sold the site less than six months ago. Dana had known that Gregory Jones had grown up in her small town, but she didn’t know he ever came back.


You
visiting?” she asked.

“I moved home,” Greg said. “I’m just not a big city
guy
though we’re close enough that I can scratch certain itches when need be.”

“Itches like seeing your new friend with another girl?”

“Exactly,” Greg said. “I must
say,
though, you intrigue me more than she ever could, no matter what lewd acts she does with her friend.”

“I intrigue you?”

“Yes. You’re beautiful, you own a store which sells cock rings and vibrators, and yet you blush when talking about those products.”

“I don’t
normally
,” Dana said, somewhat defensively.

“I’d like to take you to dinner. This weekend?” the man asked her.

“I don’t know,” Dana said, but she did know. She didn’t want to be some second fiddle to whatever floozy he was buying the strap-on
dildo for
.

She thought he would argue, but the rich man
simply
reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a card out. He handed it to
her,
and she looked at it. It simply had his
name
and a phone number. The paper stock was thick, as luxurious as such a thing could be.

“If you change your mind, call me,” Greg said. “Now, which of these strap-on’s would you recommend?

Greg didn’t linger in Dana’s
store,
though he lingered
on
her mind. For the rest of the day, after he
was long gone
, she thought of him. That night
she
lay in bed, the TV on, casting her in a soft blue glow, but she didn’t pay attention to the Gilmore Girls rerun. She had the card in her hand, and she turned it over and over in her fingers. She glanced at her clock. It was almost midnight.
She wasn’t sure she should call so late, but she reached for her cellphone and dialed the number anyways.

When Greg answered, he was panting. She thought he might be sleeping, but it dawned on her that he was probably screwing. She almost hung up, but something kept her from doing so.

“Hello?” the man said.

“I’m in,” she said.

“Fantastic, Dana,” Greg said. He had asked her name as he was checking out. “Text me your address, I’ll pick you up Saturday at eight.”

“Okay,” Dana
said
and hung up. She used her phone to
google
Greg. He was thirty-two, almost ten years older than she was. His father had died young, but his mother was still living. He had been an aspiring actor, but after striking out in
Hollywood,
he had decided to start the website.

Dana set her phone back on her end
table
and turned her TV off. She was going out with a billionaire. She couldn’t believe it as she drifted off to sleep.

2

 

Friday passed slowly. Dana worked, sold her sex toys, went home. She ate
dinner
and went to bed early. Saturday she worked as
well
though she always closed the store early on the weekends. Most of her customers shopped during the
week
when the people they knew were at work. They should have been working too but they stole in on lunch breaks, or after dentists appointments, their mouths filled with sticky gauze, their speech slurred.

After work on
Saturday,
Dana rushed home and got ready. She showered and then
dressed
though it took her almost an hour to settle on the perfect outfit. A small black dress with black high heels. She put on makeup, which she rarely did, and when
she
looked at herself in the
mirror,
she felt simultaneously bold and embarrassed.
Bold
because she
looked
like an absolute knockout, and she knew
it,
and embarrassed because she knew she was doing it because she wanted Greg to want to fuck her.

She wouldn’t let him. That wasn’t the kind of girl she was, but she wanted him to want to.

He picked her up five minutes past eight. She had sent him her address the day before. She lived in a small apartment, and as she made her way to the parking
lot,
she felt ashamed.
Surely
he was used to penthouses when he was in the city, and now that
he
had returned to his hometown, an hour and a half outside of New York, she was confident he would build a mansion somewhere.

Apple Tree was the name of the town, and it was quaint, almost like a
town
people would live in on a TV show. Rolling green hills gave way to
farm land;
a far cry from the
loud
, smog filled city to the south. There was a main street, and it was here where Dana lived, in a small row of apartments. Her shop was just outside of town, on a lonely dusty road that otherwise led out to a dairy farm.

Greg was driving a bright red convertible which matched Dana’s lipstick. He had gotten out of the car and moved around to open the passenger door.

“You look
amazing
,” the rich man said.

“Thank you,” Dana said. “You too,” she added, and it was the truth. He
was dressed
in a black blazer with a crisp white button up underneath it, the top two buttons on done, his bronze chest showing, a small amount of chest hair curled there as well. His pants were jeans, but not the sort you would buy at the local Wal-Mart. They cost more than her whole
wardrobe;
she had no doubt about that.

After she had lowered herself into the driver’s
seat,
he came around and climbed in behind the wheel.

“You hungry?” he asked, and she nodded.

He took her over a few towns, to a sleepy little place called River’s Crossing. It had a reputation
for
being a bit more high scale than Apple Tree, and as such, Dana had never had much reason to go there, except for a couple of times with her girlfriends as they looked in the shops.

There was a small Italian restaurant there called Emilio’s, and the parking lot was full when Greg pulled in. The sky was
black,
and he had stopped to raise the roof on the convertible, as the air was growing quite chilly, despite the fact that it was summer. Though in a dress as short as the one Dana was wearing, any night would be
chilly
.

They went inside, and Dana thought they would have to wait. There was a line almost to the door, but as soon as the hostess saw Greg, she came forward and showed them to a small private room off of the main dining area. It only had four tables, each small and intimate with two chairs.

The food was better than Dana had ever had, and the conversation was just as good. They did the
normal
first date stuff, working through the conversation they were supposed to. Where did you go to school, what movies do you like? Surprisingly, Greg had dropped out of
highschool
, moving when he was seventeen to Los Angeles, and his favorite film was Goodfellas. He learned that Dana had gone to a local
highschool
and then a college thirty minutes to the East, and her favorite
film
was Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

“I would love it if you came home
with
me,” Greg said, and Dana was shocked by how upfront he was. She opened her mouth after she smiled, and she was prepared to tell him now.

“God yes,” she said instead, shocking herself.

“Great,” Greg said, and he stood and left enough money to cover the bill and a hefty tip, and they hurried out to his car.

It turned out that Greg had done
exactly
what Dana had thought he must have. Twenty minutes out of Apple Tree there was
a massive
home that had been freshly built. The
immense
gates they drove through before heading down a winding drive to get to the house answered how exactly the house had gotten past the attention of everyone in town. She doubted anyone knew the house was here, sitting on some unused farmland, far from the main road.

They made it in through the front door and into the foyer before Greg turned to her and was kissing her. She let him, placing her hands on his chest, and his strong hands found her hips. He tasted of the wine they had drunk at dinner, and of the gum which he had been chewing since. She parted her lips to
him,
and their tongues met and danced briefly together, and then he was breaking the
kiss,
and Dana found herself disappointed. The disappointment didn’t last long. Greg moved one hand up, fingers trailing over her dress along her stomach, up over a breast until he reached her skin. Then those fingers curled into the front of her dress and pulled, forcing the material down, and freeing both of her breasts. She wore no bra, the dress wouldn’t allow it, and Greg
bent,
and his lips were on one of her rosebud nipples, and she felt it harden against his tongue.

“Oh,” she said, a long moan as he sucked on her nipple. His hand found her other breast, fingers pinching and rolling the nipple there. She reached for the back of his head, fingers sliding through the short curling hair there. “Bed,” she groaned.

“No,” he said, straightening and looking
at
her. The front door stood open behind him, and he
was framed
in silver moonlight. Behind her was a grand staircase, leading up to the second floor. The ground here was
hard;
it looked as though it might be polished marble, and Dana almost balked when he commanded her. “On your knees,” he said.

But she didn’t resist him. She knelt down, her bare knees going to the hard floor. She reached for his fly, knowing what he wanted, but he slapped her hands softly away. “With your mouth,” he said after he used one practiced hand to unbutton his fly.

Dana leaned forward, her large breasts heaving in the dim light, the breeze coming in through the door causing her arms and chest to erupt in goosebumps. Her lips brushed against the fly of his jeans, and then she curled them back and used her teeth to take his zipper and tug it down. She reached up
again,
but he grabbed her by the back of the hair and pulled her away.

“Don’t touch my cock with anything but your
mouth
or your pussy, do you understand?”

Dana nodded. She looked up
at
the man as he reached down and pulled his cock out through his open fly. His member was massive, throbbing in the air, red and angry with veins running along it.

Greg still had a hold of her brown hair, and he tugged her close. The bulbous head of his cock pressed against her cheek. He pulled her into a better position, and it pushed against her lips. He was pulling her hair so hard it hurt, and she felt her eyes water. She didn’t want him to stop. She opened her mouth, intending to tease him,
intending
to take him slowly into her wet oral orifice, but the rich man had other ideas. She knew he wasn’t a man used to
waiting;
she knew he was the kind of
man
who would always get his way. He was rich, a
self-made
billionaire, and he was going to fuck her mouth.

He held her head still with one
hand
and thrust his hips forward. His cock was buried in her mouth, pushing against the back of her throat. She gagged, mascara ran down her cheeks. His balls slapped against her chin, and then he was pulling out of her mouth. Before he fell fully away from her
lips,
he thrust forward again. He was using her, fucking her mouth roughly, the way a man who couldn’t contain himself would fuck a pussy. She slobbered and cried and wanted it. He was using her, Dana, the vanilla sex girl who owned a sex shop, who was always on the bottom, who always spit and never swallowed. He fucked her mouth, and she loved it.

She thought he would finish that way, thrusting in and out of her mouth, feeling her pillowy lips on the sides of his massive penis. But then he pulled away from her, a long string of saliva connecting them for a minute, the spit stretching from her bottom lip to the head of his cock, which bobbed once more in the air. He was still gripping her by the hair, and he lifted her
up,
so she was standing. He kissed her, her wet mouth, slick with her spit and his
own
precum, their tongues playing in the mess together.

And then he was pushing her
backwards
, towards the staircase, and she thought he would take her up it, to his bedroom, but he didn’t do that. He turned her around just as her heels came into contact with the bottom stair, and then he pushed her over. She went
to
her knees on the third step, and he knelt on the second.

Her pussy was wet, slick, yearning for his cock. He pushed her dress up
roughly
and pulled her panties away with such force that the small thong ripped. He tossed it to the side and grabbed her ass. She felt his hard cock against her slit, and she reached down between her legs, so she could guide him into her. As soon as her fingers brushed the skin of his
cock, however,
he reached forward and grabbed her hair, tugging her head back so violently and painfully that she screamed out.

“I said don’t touch my cock with your hands, you slut,” he whispered, and she nodded as best as she could since he was still holding her hair. She moaned and whimpered, and he let go of her hair. He reached down, taking his dick, wet with her spit, and he pushed himself into her.

He filled her up, his massive cock pushing into her tight wet snatch. She groaned, moaned, buried her face into the carpeted stair. He pounded her, no desire to be nice or sweet or take it slow. His hands were everywhere, strong fingers gripping her ass as it slapped against his pelvis, and then he had her hair again, and then he was pushing forward to grope at her tits.

She came quickly, the young girl screaming out as an orgasm rocked her, wet warmth spreading from her loins to the rest of her body as her pussy walls tightened and contracted against his cock. And still he fucked her.

When he was about to come, he pulled out of her and took her by the hair once more, pulling her roughly down and around, his other hand pumping at himself. And as soon as she was on her ass a stair below him, he was coming, thick white hot globs of semen spraying from the redhead of his cock and splashing across her face.
One strand fell over her painted lips, another across her left eye. He came
on
her, his cum thick and warm. And then he walked past her, up the stairs without a word. She leaned back, panting, trying to catch her breath. When he came back
down,
he was dressed and showered, and she wondered how long she had been like that.

“You still intrigue me,” he said, sitting next to her. His cum was drying on her face, and the cold air from the open door kept her nipples hard. He reached over and pinched one. “
Go take
a shower, and then
let’s
get drunk and do that again.

She smiled and nodded. Upstairs she found the
bathroom
and took a shower. After she was surprised that he had left a robe for her, folded over the edge of the sink, and she put it on and went back downstairs. She found him in a small room with a bar built into the wall, and
he
poured them both a drink. They sat together on a small couch, and after they had drank and laughed, he fucked her again, him on top, holding her roughly down. He finished first that time, but he instructed her to pleasure herself while he got something, and she did, sliding her fingers in and out of her wet snatch. When
he
returned,
he had a purple dildo.

Other books

I Married A Dead Man by Cornell Woolrich
The Compendium of Srem by Wilson, F. Paul
A Callahan Carol by March, Emily, Dawson, Geralyn
Twice Tempted by Jeaniene Frost
Have Mercy On Us All by Fred Vargas
The Chandelier Ballroom by Elizabeth Lord