ROMANCE: MC BIKER ROMANCE: Bad Boy Biker's Baby (Bad Boy Alpha Male Motorcycle Club Romance) (Contemporary MC Biker Pregnancy Romance) (135 page)

Viola had no idea what to order, so she allowed James to order for her. She was impressed by everything. Getting into the club, having his own table, it was all a great display of his wealth, and though Viola had always thought she was above that sort of thing, she decidedly wasn’t.

They drank and danced for hours, and then the club was shutting down and they went back outside. The limo wasn’t there, but it pulled up to the curb in front of them within seconds, and they climbed in. Viola’s head was swimming due to the alcohol, and she leaned against the far door and closed her eyes for a moment. And then James was there, sliding close to her, his hand on her bare thigh. She opened her eyes and looked at him. She thought he was going to say something, but instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She parted her own lips, and their tongues met, dancing together. His hand moved up her leg, pushing the already skirt higher. He broke the kiss.

“Come back to my place,” he said. It wasn’t much of a question, it sounded more like a demand. Viola thought of her own home for a moment. She wondered if Jerome had really gotten out that night. She blinked away the thoughts and focused on James.

“Okay,” she said.

3

James lived on the top floor of a massive skyscraper. Viola didn’t know if the whole building was nothing but lavish apartments, but there had been a doorman in an expensive looking suit, and the lobby had one massive wall filled with mail slots, each with a different apartment number on the little door.

They rode for a long time in an elevator, and James had her pushed against the wall while it rose, his lips on her neck. He kissed her there, nipped at her. She wrapped her arms around him. There was a soft ding, and they left the elevator and found themselves in a short hall, with only one door, straight across from them.

“Is your apartment the whole floor?” Viola asked.

“Yeah,” James said, sounding as though he wasn’t trying to impress her. He unlocked his door, and they went inside.

The apartment was spacious, and the views were incredible, but Viola wouldn’t have the time to appreciate them until the next morning.

They were all over each other as soon as James kicked the front door closed with his foot. Viola kicked off her heels, and then stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him. She put one arm around his strong body, the other behind his head so her fingers could slide through his hair. He took her by the hips, his fingers powerful there, holding her. Their bodies pressed together, and Viola could feel the heat. She could also feel his cock, hard and pressing against her stomach through his pants.

He lifted her up then, and she wrapped her legs around him as they continued to kiss, and he carried her into the living room. It was furnished much like her own living room, a couch, a chair, a television, but everything was, at least, five times more expensive. Standing over the couch James pushed on her hips, and she fell back, landing on the sofa and grinning up at him.

“How long have you been wanting to do this?” she asked.

“A long time,” James answered as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.

“You ever fucked a black chick?” Viola asked, and the man shook his head.

“You ever been fucked by a white guy?” James asked, and it was Viola’s turn to shake her head. He grinned and knelt down by the couch, using his hands to push the short dress up over her hips, exposing her black lace thong. “A white guy ever eat your pussy?” he asked, and then before waiting for a response, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh. He nibbled there, plucking at her tender flesh with his perfect teeth.

He ran a finger along her slit, through the lace material of her panties, and then he hooked his finger around the crotch of her thong and pulled it to the side. He pushed his head in nearer to her and ran his tongue along her. She was wet, and he tasted her, lapping up her steamy juices. Viola groaned and leaned her head back. The tip of his tongue felt like bliss as it found the small knot of her clit, and sent waves of pleasure through her body. James was good, and it wasn’t long before she felt herself nearing orgasm, and then without warning she was coming, moaning aloud as a wave of pleasure built in her loins and then unleashed, spreading through her crotch and up into the pit of her stomach. James kept his tongue on her, his face buried between her legs until she was done, and then he leaned back and smiled in the soft light. Her juices made his skin slick around his mouth, but Viola didn’t protest when he grabbed her and pulled her upright on the couch so he could kiss her. She tasted him, she tasted herself, and she knew the night was just beginning.

Into the bedroom they went, and she sat on the edge of his massive bed as he opened the fly of his pants and pulled his throbbing cock out. She leaned forward, taking it into her mouth eagerly. He put both hands on her head and began to guide her. He had been loving, gentle, as he ate her out, but now he was fucking her mouth, his rigid member sliding in and out along her soft, plump lips. He pulled her toward him, burying his shaft into the back of her throat. He was large, his cock thick, and she was gagging, her eyes tearing up. Then he released her, and she pulled off of his cock, fighting to catch her breath. As she did so, he reached down and pulled her up. His hands ripped the front of the sexy little black dress down, exposing her large breasts.

He dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth, biting it softly. His hand was on her other breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Viola tilted her head back and moaned, and then she was moving again, James’ hands upon her, pushing her into position. He shoved her towards the bed, and then grabbed her hips and turned her over. She began to rise up onto her hands and knees, but he pushed her down with a grunt, so she lay flat. He lowered himself upon her, reaching down and sliding his cock inside of her. She was used to doggystyle, most men she dated or fucked enjoyed it since her ass was one of those asses, big and plump but firm, and most men liked grabbing it, or slapping it, or both. But she had never laid completely down on her stomach before, and she was worried he wouldn’t be able to get inside her at that odd angle, but he did. She kept her legs spread, and her fingers gripped his sheets, her knuckles turning white as her fists tightened with each thrust.

He leaned forward, his body resting against hers, pushing her down. She felt submissive, she felt used, and she liked it. He had taken care of her first after all, and now it was his turn, and she was happy to oblige. Besides, as he fucked her she felt the heat returning to her loins, and she came again before he had his chance. She yelled aloud, and he pressed his hand to her head, gripping her hair and pulling it roughly as she came. Within seconds of her orgasm, it was his turn, and his cock jumped inside her as he came, spraying his hot seed deep into her pussy.

“Fuck,” James said, as he pulled his slick dick out of her wet snatch, and she laughed and nodded. It had been a while since she felt so used, and she was hoping he would be up to using her again later that night.

It turned out he was, and he used her three more times before the Sun rose. She went home the next morning, early on Sunday. The limo wasn’t around, but James called a taxi for her, already paid with his credit card over the phone. They exchanged numbers, but Viola was half convinced it was going to be a one-time thing, and she was alright with that.

When she got home, she was pleasantly surprised to return to an empty home. Jerome was gone, along with most of his belongings. Viola showered and then took a nap. She hadn’t slept much the previous night. She was off on Sundays, and she slept until the late afternoon. When she woke up, Viola made a quick meal of a sandwich, and sat on her couch, flicking the TV on with the remote. She pulled her laptop onto her lap and opened it. She browsed through some emails  and then opened Facebook.

Viola was surprised to see she had a friend request, and, even more, surprised when she saw who it was from. She recognized the picture. He was older than she was but a bit younger than James. He was a good looking man with dark hair and dark eyes, with trendy glasses and a beard. His name was Martin Alven, and she recognized him, but couldn’t remember where. She accepted the friend request anyways, and then googled the name.

She realized why she recognized the man. He owned MAA, one of the largest record labels in the country. It was, of course, headquartered in New York.

But then a memory flashed through her brain, and she realized he seemed familiar for another reason to. Viola had met him, the night before, at the club. It was hazy, but she remembered he had been hitting on her, right in front of James. She was pulled out of the memory by a small chime, and there was a new message for her on Facebook. It was from Martin.

He wanted to know if she wanted to go out to dinner with him on Wednesday, but she worked then, and she replied with that.

How about tonight then?
he asked through Facebook, and Viola waited for a moment, thinking. She had been on a date with a billionaire the night before and ended up at his lavish apartment, where he fucked her all night. Now another white billionaire was asking her to dinner. The day before, her jobless boyfriend of two years had broken up with her, and rebounding was the furthest thing from her mind. Still, you only live once, so she told Martin she would go with him.

He told her he would pick her up at four, since it was a bit of a drive, and Viola went to get ready. She dressed in her nicest dress, unsure of where exactly they would be going. She had given him her address, a little self-conscious about that, and at four, she was out in front of her building. With a roar, a red sports car entered the parking lot, the top down, a smiling Martin behind the wheel. He was tall and thin, with an angular body. He waited for her to get in, and then reached for her hand, took it, and kissed it. Viola smiled.

“I thought you were with James, but I had to ask you out. You are enchanting,” Martin said.

“You know James?”

“We run into each other,” Martin said, and then, as he pulled out of the parking lot, he laughed. “I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Maybe it’s because you hit on the girls he goes out with.”

“You guys are going out? Because here you are in my car.”

“Not out out,” Viola clarified. “He just took me out last night.”

“You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?” Martin asked as they drove, away from the city. Viola thought back to looking out the windows at James’ place and shook her head.

“Not really,” she said.

“Good,” Martin said, and just outside of the city they pulled into the parking lot of a non-descript brown building. As Martin pulled behind it, Viola saw that they were at a small airfield. A helicopter sat behind the building on a minescule tarmac. A pilot was checking something at the front of the helicopter.

“Is this your helicopter?” Viola asked, suddenly realizing why he wanted to know if she was afraid of heights. She thought perhaps he was going to take her to a restaurant that sat at the top of a building, she had no idea he was flying her somewhere.

“Yeah,” Martin said, and he didn’t seem embarrassed about his wealth, the way James had. “One of the first things I bought when I got the money,” he added. “You ever been in one?”

“No,” Viola said.

“It’s a blast,” Martin said, and with ten minutes they were in the sky, and Viola had to agree, it was pretty fun. The helicopter rose and fell with wind drafts, and the ground whipped by beneath them. They flew for a little over an hour, and then they were setting down near the coast. A car was waiting for them there, not a limo, but a very nice sedan. There was no driver.

“I’m sure James had a limo for you,” Martin said, looking to the black woman slyly.

Viola laughed and nodded.

“I like to do my own driving,” Martin said, and he climbed behind the wheel. It was only a ten-minute drive, and then Martin was parking in a small lot, sparsely populated with other expensive looking cars. The lot was next to a dock, with row after row of massive yachts. Martin led her to one, where a small crew was preparing to launch.

“This is Captain Reynolds,” James said, introducing Viola to a tanned man with a thick Mediterranean accent.

“It’s a pleasure, miss,” Reynolds said, and then he disappeared so he could ready the ship. Martin then led Viola to the deck, where a woman in a crisp white uniform, identical to the rest of the crew, stood waiting by two chairs. Beside her was chilled champagne and a platter of hors devours.

“Welcome, Mr. Alven,” the woman said.

“Thank you, Cindy,” Martin said. “This is Viola Turner.”

“Miss Turner.”

Viola found it strange that Cindy was calling her miss. She was just a waitress, more like Cindy the blonde bimbo than Martin, the billionaire. Cindy couldn't hide her shapely figure under the uniform, and Viola had a feeling that most trips on the boat, trips without a woman present, Cindy would be wearing something different. A bikini perhaps? Nothing?

They drank champagne and munched on things Viola couldn’t even pronounce as the massive yacht left the harbor and headed out to see. It was strange, when Viola thought about it, that she was going out on a boat with a man she didn't even know, but she figured there were enough members of the yacht’s crew milling around that she wouldn’t be murdered. In all, there seemed to be four people besides them, the captain, Cindy, and two young men who were barked at by the captain and rushed around the yacht doing various sea things that Viola didn’t understand.