Love In A Hopeless Place (BWWM Romance)

by Anna Rudolph

  She had made it back to her old apartment, thankful for the familiarity and that she had decided to keep it and continued paying rent during her stint with Ray. However, after one night sitting in the dust that coated the memories of her old life, she’d felt lonely and confused instead of comfortable. Allie had been more than happy to have Sonya come stay with her, and Sonya had never loved or appreciated her friend more.

  Allie sat back in a massive fuchsia suede bean bag crammed into the corner of her bedroom. Her braids, long, wavy, and funky, were swept up in a knot, the thick frames on her black glasses perched on her buttony little nose. People often wondered if Allie and Sonya were sisters; they did look alike, though Allie was slighter. She cupped a flamboyant wine glass with a bright pink stem, the word “Princess” was printed across the swell of the glass in glittery script.

  “Just call him,” she said bluntly. Sonya figured Allie was probably growing tired of listening to her bitch and moan about her poor little broken heart.

  “Nooo,” Sonya moaned pitifully. “I can’t. We agreed on a week.”

  “So? If he’s half as pathetic as you are, he’d probably be thrilled to hear from you.”

  “But what if he isn’t? What if he’s not miserable? What if he’s over me and just hoping I never call? He could be on a date with some model or something right now!” Sonya realized she was rambling and that she didn’t sound like herself. She sounded like a lovesick little girl, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt that way.

  Allie rolled her eyes, heavy on the drama. She took a sip of wine and said, “He's not on a date with a model.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I don't!” Allie replied, exasperated. “Here.” She scooped Sonya's cell phone off the floor and threw it at her. “Just call him already.”

  Sonya unlocked the screen, her heart falling when she saw no new updates even though she should've known better. She flipped through her contact list until she saw his name. Before she could lose her nerve, she tapped the call icon and lifted the device to her ear. Allie smiled, and Sonya tried to ignore her as the dial tone began.

  *****

  Philip leaned heavily over his elbows on the top of the bar. The lighting was low, the gleaming mahogany of the bar top was cool and smooth. The air was polluted with the soft, over-polite chatter of the privileged patrons and gentle clink of ice in scotch tumblers.

  What a day it had been back at the office, Philip thought. The day had been a long one, but he felt better now, a lot less weight on his shoulders. He'd walked out the immaculately clean glass doors of the tall building and across the street into the swanky joint for one celebratory drink that had turned into two, then four. Two hours had passed, and Philip could see his haggard reflection in the spotless mirror that lined the wall behind the bar, bloodshot eyes glared back at him. His posture was sloppy and slumped, his hair and suit were rumpled and disheveled. Even so, women buzzed around him; several had tried to cozy up to him at the bar. He’d batted them all away as politely as he could. Philip wasn’t going to find the company he craved in the air-headed waifs that frequented places like that.

  Goddamn it, Sonya, he thought. She had been right. He’d tried to jump into things too quickly and he’d done nothing for two days but hope that he hadn’t scared her off for good. He didn’t know what it was about her, her beautiful exotic skin, her generous curves or that knockout of a smile, but he couldn’t shake the thought of her. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but couldn’t seem to muster the courage to reach out to her.

  Philip didn’t think he could handle the sound of her voicemail greeting, the sound of her rejection when she didn’t answer.

  Philip lifted the cool crystal to his mouth, letting the watered down bourbon slide down his throat as he signaled for another. The bartender was an average looking guy in his mid thirties, his dark hair receded gently, and a black vest stretched across his fit chest. He nodded at Philip, his eyes sympathetic and curious. The men traded glasses. Philip rested the glass in front of him on the bar and gazed forlornly into the amber liquid.

  Philip’s pocket vibrated as his phone began to ring. He fumbled for it with no real interest or excitement to see who was calling; he had full intention to ignore it.

  Until he saw her name.

  Philip almost dropped the slim device as his inebriated fingers fumbled to answer the call.

  “Sonya.” He brought the cell to his ear. Her name rushed and tumbled out of his mouth, sounding much more desperate than he had hoped.

  “Philip.” Her breathy voice on the other end of the phone sent a surge through him, she sounded pleasantly surprised.

  “I have to see you,” he said, wasting no time.

  “Are you home?” she asked.

  “I’m on my way there. See you soon.”

  Without a second thought, Philip tucked a hundred dollar bill under his full glass and hurried out of the bar. He paged his driver, and moments later a sleek silver Benz rolled to a graceful stop by the curb. Philip climbed into the backseat and tried to control the mania in his voice as he ordered a ride home. He sat back on the buttery soft black leather and loosened his tie. Philip’s blood was rushing through his veins, he could hear it in his ears, and his breath came in short, choppy bursts. The exhilaration was like a fire in his chest, he couldn’t remember another time he was so excited just to share someone else’s company.

  The driver swung into the driveway. The evening light on the house was lovely, the sky soft and periwinkle. Ground lights illuminated the stunning structure, the bright angular faces contrasting with shadowy corners. Philip vaguely thanked the driver, charging out of the car before it had even fully stopped. He gave Philip a polite wave, and Philip was happy that the driver knew better than to inquire about his odd behavior.

  Once inside, he removed his jacket and tie. He clicked a random light switch, bringing the fluid chandelier to life. He paced around in the dim light, seeking comfort in movement and the rhythmic clicking of his solid shoes against the wooden floor. As the minutes pass, he began to wonder if he’d jumped the gun. He’d hung up the phone before she agreed to meet him here, he realized. What if she wasn’t coming? She hadn’t called back to correct him, so she must be, right?

  Suddenly, the front door swept open and there she was.

  Her long, lovely braids hung loose, skimming past her breasts. She wore a lilac tank top with no bra, the stretchy fabric strained against her nipples, a pair of black yoga pants, and slippers. There wasn’t a trace of makeup on her face, and Philip had never seen anything so beautiful.

  Her dark eyes met his, and she kicked her slippers off haphazardly as she hurried towards him. He slid his arms around her, pulling her body to his. The warmth of her, the perfect way she fit in his arms almost brought tears to his eyes. He felt her sob and gripped her body tighter.

  “I missed you,” he whispered. Sonya sobbed again.

  Philip lifted her chin and took a moment to savor her with his eyes. Her wide, vulnerable eyes. Her heart-shaped face and full, plush lips. The smattering of freckles across her graceful nose, just barely visible against her clear, cappuccino skin. He pressed his lips to hers, and his knees felt weak.

  Sonya’s hands crept up around his neck to the back of his head and secure him there against her. His hands, rested on her lower back, began to move. He cupped and rubbed her thick, round rear and felt himself begin to stiffen. She moaned gently against his lips, swaying her body with him as he moved.

  He pulled on the hem of her shirt, and she worked at his buttons as they tore each other out of their clothes. He was down to his boxers, the thin fabric straining to support the rigid length of his erection. Sonya was gloriously bare but for a small patch of purple lace, the tiny thong cut into her full hips, and Philip felt himself throb at the sight of her.

  They poked, prodded, teased, and kissed each other as he led her back to her bedroom. He flipped the light on and allowed her a moment to tak
e in the room. It was handsome and simple, done up in all cream and black. Though he had lived alone for most of his time in the house, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a guest in his bedroom. He sat on the bed and motioned for her to climb into his lap. She shimmied out of her panties, placing a knee on either side of him and straddling him with no hesitation whatsoever. The heat between her legs was absolutely divine, the soft skin of her breasts and hardened nipples pressed against his chest. He needed her so bad it actually hurt. He momentarily lifted her, slid his boxers off, and freed his pulsing cock.

  Philip brushed the sensitive skin of his member against her lower lips, exhilarated to find her wet and ready. Sonya sighed as he pressed the head into her, then cried out as he filled her with his length. Their lips met again, a passionate kiss that set off a hundred invisible fireworks. Sonya tangled her long fingers in his thick hair and began to ride him, slowly taking and then releasing every rock hard inch of him. Philip thrust his hips up and down, matching her slow, savory rhythm and relishing in every second that he was inside her. Sonya gasped and moaned, her face relaxed and ecstatic as she began to pick up the pace. Every sweet slide of her tight sex up and down his shaft threatened to send him right over the edge, he almost couldn’t handle how great she felt. As she quickened, her dark, round breasts began to bounce and he palmed them, groping at the soft flesh and watching her lovely face twist with pleasure. He pinched and rubbed her taut nipples and felt her tighten around him.

  Her beautiful body continued to ride him. He was entranced by the beautiful contrast of her skin against his; dark on white, harmonious like a yin yang. Her firm, powerful thighs contracted as she rode him, the bouncy tempo was divine and he wished it would never end.

  Sonya began to squeeze him from the inside, Philip could feel her ensuing climax. She tossed her head back, her long braids trailed down her back like an exotic goddess. Every muscle in her flawless body locked up as she lost herself in an exhilarating, rowdy orgasm. Her fevered moans only inspired Philip to please her further, he rubbed the pad of his thumb against her swollen clitoris in small but extremely effective circles. Sonya was weak, overwhelmed by the tidal waves of emotion and raw physical euphoria that crashed over and through her.

  Philip wrapped an arm around her lower back, flipping himself on top of her in one graceful motion, and Sonya gave an excited squeal. Without breaking their rhythm, he continued to drive himself into her. He took a deep, primal pleasure in watching her wiggle and writhe under him, each thrust becoming more vigorous as he neared his own finishing point. His sweat-slicked skin shone in the golden light, he placed his large hands on her plump, bouncing breasts and reached his tipping point just as her dripping wet center began to clench around him again. They came together, a duet of noisy uninhibited moans as he emptied himself into her eager groin.

  Breathless, and grateful for the exertion, Philip gently pulled his sensitive rod out and collapsed onto the sheets next to her. Sonya fought for her own breath, basking in the blissful afterglow of the best sex she had ever had, by far.

  “I missed you too,” she gasped.

  Philip rolled to face her, brought her petite body into his and wrapped his warm, slick arms around her. He inhaled deeply, savoring her salty scent.

  “I probably shouldn’t say this,” he said slowly, “but I… I love you, Sonya.”

  She looked up at him. Her beautiful eyes, that lovely little ring of green around the pupils, reflected shock, awe and most importantly… Love. “I love you too, Philip.” Her tone was soft and adoring, she snuggled into his chest.

  They both knew it was quick, they both knew they shouldn’t rush into things.

  Neither of them cared.

  The end.

  Surrogate For The Billionaire

  Can she carry his baby?

  A complete and heartfelt romance, brought to you by Tyra Small of the respected BWWM Club.

  Being a CEO and owner of a large company, Bryce doesn't have time for dating.

  So when his urges tell him he wants a child to one day take over his empire, he decides to do what he does best:

  Throw money at the situation.

  When he places an ad for a surrogate mother, he expects a purely business relationship that will end in the child he wants.

  What he gets instead is Lateisha, a beautiful and smart woman who could just be the girl he's willing to make time for.

  Spending more and more time together, soon feelings start to grow and these feelings are revealed.

  But with Lateisha convinced she's not ready for a child of her own, and outside forces doing what they can to ensure the two don't fall into a real relationship, can this business agreement realistically turn into the family that dreams are made of?

  Or will the two cut ties and part ways once their contract is up?

  Find out in this emotional yet sexy romance by Tyra Small of BWWM Club.

  Suitable for over 18s strictly, as contain scenes of a hot and sexual nature. ;)

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 1

  Lateisha Aaron handed the woman in her car waiting outside of the drive through window her bag. Her greasy bag filled with nasty food. She didn’t think it was nasty before, when she started working here several months ago after graduation, she used to eat this food. Seeing it every day for the last three months made her want to vomit at the idea of ingesting it. Not that she was turned off from all fast food, she loved Wendy’s, but anything from the place she worked made her stomach turn. Tugging at the hair net covering her tight black curls, Lateisha moved back to the fryer to prepare the next bag for the next customer at the window. Frowning, she dumped the fries into a cardboard cup and placed them into a paper bag. Lateisha snorted, she never thought she would end up serving fast food after obtaining her Bachelor’s degree. Sighing, she passed the bag through the window and moved towards the back again. Her mother told her to go into nursing because ‘every time she checks the paper someone is looking for a nurse’. Well then why the hell didn’t anyone hire her? Biding her time at this craphole until she could find something more suitable, something she would actually enjoy, was making her crazy. It wasn’t like she wasn’t offered jobs. But who wants to clean bedpans for the elderly for three years before they get to actually do some real nursing? Her friend Becky, who she met in nursing school, found a job at the local hospital in the ER. Becky assured her that dumping bedpans was part of the job and every nurse, new or seasoned, had to do it, but Lateisha just couldn’t stand the idea. Instead, she was flipping nasty burgers and frying greasy fries. Bedpans didn’t look too bad some days, especially when she had to clean the fryers.

  With a shiver of revulsion, Lateisha realized tonight was her night and almost quit on the spot, but she needed the money. She glanced at the clock, ten more minutes to her lunch break. The idea of taking a minute to sit and regroup in the break room seemed great right about now. Working six days a week in fast food was grueling and exhausting. The ten minutes flew by and Lateisha practically ran to the break room. Snatching her lunch bag from the fridge, she reclined in one of the four chairs surrounding a small round table in the corner of the small room. She pulled her phone from her purse to text Becky and realized she had an email with new job listings from the career website she had uploaded her resume to recently. She opened the email and scrolled through the jobs, vetoing each in her head as she went; too far, not enough pay, etc. Her eyes fell on an ad that seemed peculiar on a career website; Surrogate Wanted. Lateisha laughed out loud. Who listed an ad for a surrogate on a job website? Deciding to look it over anyway, just for shits and giggles, Lateisha opened the ad.

  Surrogate wanted. Must be over 18, preferably single with no children, non smoker with a clean bill of health.
I’m offering $30,000 to carry a baby for me. I will pay all doctor bills and living expenses, etc during the time you are pregnant. If you are interested please contact me by email at bhenderson@hencorp.com.

  Lateisha laughed aloud again. Was this guy for real? It was a lot of money. Dollar signs in her eyes, Lateisha contemplated emailing him to see if he was for real or not. Could be a serial killer looking to get young women to meet him places so he could kidnap them. Then again, HenCorp was a big company, and to use their name and email in the ad to lure someone in to kill them would be stupid. Why was she even thinking about this? It was ridiculous. She didn’t want kids, never had, but maybe that’s what this guy wants. Changing her mind and keeping the baby would never happen since she didn’t want any of her own kids. This was a crazy idea. Was she really considering carrying a baby for a stranger? But thirty thousand dollars… This would take a lot of consideration. Closing her email, Lateisha ate her lunch, all the while chewing on the idea of being a surrogate.

  *****

  Bryce Henderson scratched his head. Why wasn’t he getting any interest in the ad he put up online? Sighing, he turned back to his computer, reading over the contract he received that morning for the newest company his business acquired. His business was a loose term of course, since after graduate school he inherited the position of owner from his father, who was more than willing to retire and move to the clichéd Florida with his new thirty-something wife and their two dogs. How his father pulled that one off he’d never know, but when Bryce’s mother died five years ago his dad became a shell of a man. Any woman who could pull him out of that funk, even if she was only a few years older than his twenty-eight years, was welcome in his family. He just hoped his father knew what he was doing.