by Tia Siren
I thanked the crowd and hurried offstage. My performance went okay, but I’d been a bundle of nerves and it had been far from perfect. I just wanted to make it to the lady’s room where I could puke my guts out in peace. Then I could get back to work.
“You were amazing,” a deep voice said from the backstage shadows. I turned to see Cain standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets and a pitiful look on his face. He stepped closer and gave me a smile that made my breath quake.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, holding the guitar to my breasts like a battle shield. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “You don’t have to talk. Just listen.”
I blinked at him for a minute. I avoided looking into his eyes. I stared at the dirty floor. “Fine. Make it fast. I have to pee.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you about the list,” he said.
“The fuck list that you swore to me didn’t exist?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said, nodding slowly. “You have to understand; the list meant nothing. It was a joke, just something I did to amuse myself.”
“So you think fucking women and striking them off your list is funny,” I said. “You think using women is funny.”
“I didn’t say that,” he said with a sigh. “Look, in my industry, sex is a tool. People use it to get ahead and get noticed and…” He smiled and rubbed his eyes. “Jesus, I’m not making a very good case for myself, am I?”
“No, you’re not,” I said, doing my best to stay angry even though all I wanted to do was fall into his arms. “It’s never funny, being used.”
He frowned at me. “Is that what you think I did? Used you?”
“What would you call it?”
“I would call it discovering an amazingly talented singer and doing everything in my power to make her a star. Yes, we had sex, but that’s not why I did everything I’ve done for you.” He shook his head in frustration. “Do you think I’ve ever slept with a woman and then spent millions of dollars building her career? Don’t you think that if all I’d wanted to do was fuck you, we would have been done after the first night we were together?”
I blinked away tears and rubbed my eyes. Dammit, his words made sense, but I knew he was a master manipulator. He was used to getting people to do his bidding, especially women like me. I hugged the guitar tighter because he was breaking down my defenses.
He took another step closer and put his hands on my shoulders. “Liv, I never used you. I believe in you. I think you are the most amazing singer I’ve heard in a very long time. Look at what you just did out there. You had a Metallica crowd swaying to a fucking Janis Joplin tune. You’re a rare talent. I never used you. In fact, I spend most of my time thinking how you could use me to achieve your dreams.”
I sighed. “You’re good,” I said. “You almost have me believing your bullshit.”
“Fine, then believe this,” he said, reaching inside his jacket and bringing out his phone. He called up the fuck list and clicked DELETE. He held up the phone so I could see what he was doing. He tapped to confirm the DELETE and the file disappeared into the ether.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, giving him a little smile.
“Yes, I did,” he said, tucking his phone back inside his jacket. “I have a new list, and there’s only one name on it. That name is yours.”
EPILOGUE: Olivia
I was sitting on Cain’s bed with my iPad resting on my knees, monitoring the number of downloads my first song, “Summertime,” was getting from iTunes.
The song dropped at eight this morning, roughly twelve hours ago, and so far, it had been downloaded almost twenty thousand times. I couldn’t believe it. It seemed I had a hit on my hands. Cain had told me this was the day my life would change, and he had been right. Honestly, I was scared to death because I didn’t know how to act or what to do next. Thankfully, I had Cain to show me the way.
“Are you still checking downloads?” Cain asked as he strolled naked into the room with a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his hands. I giggled at the sight of his long cock swinging from side to side as he moved.
He filled both champagne glasses and handed one to me. I set aside the iPad so Cain could take its place. He straddled my knees and let his cock rest on my legs.
He held up his glass. “To you, Olivia Poole, the newest star in the BEG musical sky.”
I tapped my glass to his and smiled. “Thanks to you.”
He shook his head with the glass at his lips. “Nope. I just showed you the way. You’re the one who made it happened.” He leaned forward to kiss my lips. He playfully held the cold champagne glass to my nipple, making me jump.
“So, how shall we celebrate?” I asked. I took a sip of champagne and set the glass on the nightstand. I couldn’t resist reaching down to take his cock in my hand. I gave it a tug and it grew instantly, like a long balloon, filling my hand. I licked my lips as the head mushroomed at my touch. I slowly tugged his stiff cock back and forth as he drained his glass and tossed it onto the thick carpeted floor.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss me again. His hands kneaded my breasts as I pulled at his cock with one hand and cupped his balls with the other. He moaned in my mouth. I could feel the hot dampness flowing from my pussy.
“I want your big cock inside my sweet pussy,” I said with a grin, mocking him, stroking him faster. I parted my legs so I could rub the tip of his cock against my clit. “I want you to rock my world.”
“I can do that,” he said, spreading my legs with his knees. He lifted my legs and rested them against his muscular shoulders. I rubbed my feet against his ears.
“You can do what?” I asked, giving him an evil grin.
“I can fuck your sweet pussy with my hard cock and rock your motherfucking world,” he said, taking his cock in hand to guide it to me. I held my breath as he slid it in. He put his hands on my knees and I wiggled my feet around his neck. He began slowly rocking his hips back and forth, going in deeper with each thrust.
“Oh…god…yes,” I moaned, mashing my tits together until the nipples almost touched. I squeezed my nipples and arched my hips into him. I could feel his cock burrowing deep inside me. The walls of my pussy squeezed and milked him as he moved.
“Fuck…your cock feels amazing.” I sighed, closing my eyes. “Fuck me harder, Cain. Ram that big cock into my sweet pussy.”
“Yes,” he moaned. “Your pussy…is so…fucking…tight.”
He tightened his grip on my knees and started slamming his cock into me. I flounced on the bed. The headboard slammed against the wall. I had to hold my tits to keep them from flopping up and down. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of my cunt. It didn’t take long for me to come. I felt like the top of my head was about to blow off.
“Yes…god…come with me, Cain. Fill me up with your hot seed.”
“Yes, baby…fuck. So…fucking…tight.”
Cain groaned as he filled me with his hot, milky goodness. I could feel it coating my pussy, wet, sticky, hot. My body shuddered against him. I came in a wave, squirting him with my juices, soaking his cock and balls and the bed beneath us.
Cain rammed into me a few more times and then blew out a long breath. He looked at me and smiled. I sighed happily and smiled back.
“Thanks for making me famous, Mr. Bohannon,” I said, rubbing my cunt against him. “It feels amazing.”
“It’s been my pleasure, Miss Poole,” he said, giving me a soft smile. He let my legs drop around his waist and leaned down to kiss my lips. “And just think, we’ve only just begun.”
I closed my eyes and sighed.
Yes, my darling, we’ve only just begun.
THE END
I hope you enjoyed Big Bad Alpha. For your reading pleasure, I’ve included numerous bonus stories. Please refer to the table of contents to choose what to read next.
BWWM Romance Collection
A BWWM Billionaire Pregnancy Romance
''It's okay, Tyra, hold on to me,'' Natalie said as Tyra collapsed into her arms.
Father Smith had told me it would be like this, Tyra thought. But which of the emotions had he meant? The Grief or the guilt? Tyra was experiencing both. Two of the most powerful human emotions were wracking through her at will.
''Tyra, we're so sorry for your loss.'' Tyra lifted her head from Natalie's shoulder. It was Mr. and Mrs. Radley Samuels, Tyra's boss and his wife.
''Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.'' Tyra didn't think she could speak, but the words came out somehow. Natalie handed her another tissue and for a moment, Tyra could see clearly again. She looked to her left and saw a line of mourners waiting to express their condolences to her.
''If only I hadn't been so selfish,'' Tyra said to Natalie as they walked up the cemetery path. It had taken an eternity to work through the line of those seeking to express their condolences and Tyra was exhausted. ''It was foggy, and I knew dad didn't want to drive that day. It was me. Me moaning that they hadn't been to see me in my new home in the city. Lord knows, I think I even suggested they weren't interested in me anymore.'' She held onto Natalie again as another insufferable wave of guilt rammed at her. ''No, I killed them. Dad would never have taken mom out in the car on a day like normally.'' Natalie didn't know how to comfort her friend. They were both just twenty-three and beginning to make their way in the world. Losing parents wasn't supposed to happen until later in life.
*****
Three weeks after the funeral, Tyra stood outside the jewelry store on West 47th Street and looked at it, really looked at it, for the first time. I've been working here for seven months, and this is the first time I've properly taken the place in, she thought. Grief-stricken and riddled with guilt; she felt her senses had become sharper since the passing of her parents. It was as if someone was making her take notice of the world. Making her appreciate what can so easily be torn away from you, in an instant.
West 47th Street was full of jewelry shops, but none as grand as J.P Samuels. They might as well have called it, 'Jewelers to the rich and famous,' she thought. For that's what it was. A place where the rich came to gorge on expensive stones. The front of the store was imposing. Between the cleanest store windows in New York, there were columns of polished black granite. The entrance was in the middle of the store and it too was surrounded by shiny black stone. The door itself was made of bulletproof, reinforced glass. What Tyra liked best about the facade was the sign. It was made of copper and ran the length of the store. The background was dark and the letters that had been forged onto it were polished and stood out better than any other letters on the street.
''Welcome back Tyra. I'm so sorry to hear about your mom and dad,'' Leon said. ''Thanks, Leon. It's very brave of you to say so.'' She'd found that most people just turned away from her, not knowing what to say. Not Leon. It was his job to stand inside the door and keep out the undesirables. He was perfectly equipped to do so at six feet seven and two hundred and fifty pounds, but it involved hours standing in the same place, day after day.
''Tyra, my girl,'' Radley Samuel's said. He'd been waiting for her. Normally, he didn't stand in the shop.
He had others to do that for him. His job was managing the business that his grandfather had started. ''Come with me.''
Tyra followed him through the store. They walked past glass cabinets filled with beautiful necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings, and watches. At the back of the store, they went through a door and down a corridor. The first door on the right led to a security room. Tyra had never been in the room, but she had seen inside once when the door had been open. It was full of monitors and the latest lock down systems. It was all hi-tech, and she had no idea about any of it.
Radley pushed open the first door on the left and showed her into his office. How can anyone spend hours in an office with no daylight? she wondered. There were pictures of his ancestors on one wall and a giant flora vase in the corner. What she liked most about his office was the carpet. It was deep red with the company crest woven into it.
''Tyra, please sit down.'' He pointed to a button backed armchair that stood in front of his mahogany desk. ''I want you to tell me how you are feeling. You've been through a lot, and I want to make sure you’re feeling up to working again.'' I wish I had a daughter like her, she's so graceful and kind, yet determined and motivated, he thought.
''Well, honestly speaking, I'm still feeling awful.'' You can tell him everything; he cares for you, she told herself as a moment of doubt crept into her mind. ''I weep a lot, especially in the evening and I feel guilty. So guilty.'' She noticed how closely he was listening to her. The furrows on his forehead were deep with concern for her, and his eyes were looking directly into hers, seeking any sign that a return to work may be too early.
''There is nothing I can say to you that will make you feel better. All I can do is tell you what happened to me when my son was killed.'' Killed? I didn't know he'd had a son, she thought. The thought that someone close to her had also suffered such a loss made her feel better.
''My son was only nineteen. He was studying business at New York University and working here at the weekends.'' He stopped talking for a moment, took out a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his forehead. Tyra knew him to be fifty-nine. He was quite tall and very thin. It was as if he was so involved in his business he forgot to eat.
He looked at her with a pained expression as he continued. ''One morning, he left home to go to college, and he never came back again. A man who had been drinking all night decided to get into his car and drive to the girlfriend he had left for dead in her apartment the previous evening. When he fell asleep at the wheel, it was my son he hit.'' Tyra noticed a crack in his voice. ''Walking down the street minding his own business.'' He took the handkerchief and blew his nose.
''Oh my God, that's awful,'' Tyra put her hand to her mouth.
He nodded. Perhaps I shouldn't have burdened her with this, he thought. ''At first, everything was a blur. It was only after the funeral had taken place that it really hit me. After the funeral, everyone seems to disappear. All the kind words and supporting arms are no longer there. You are suddenly alone.'' He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair and looked towards a photo on his desk. Tyra couldn't see who it was. She assumed his son.
''The Undertaker had warned me about it. A deep hole, he'd called it, and I fell into it.'' When he paused, Tyra thought about where she was mentally and recognized what he was describing. ''The Undertaker also explained that there is something called the cycle of grief. You go through stages of grief, and if you are lucky, eventually come out the other end. The last stage is called the acceptance stage. You stop all the blaming and come to terms with what's happened. Of course, you're still sad, but it gets easier.''
''It's very kind of you to tell me this. I had no idea. I was afraid I would have this level of pain for the rest of my life.'' Tyra looked at her hands. Her nails used to be so manicured, she thought.
''When I employed you, Tyra, I saw something in you. You are one of life's good people. I can see you care about people. When you talk to clients, you are patient, and most importantly, you listen to them. Did you know I have no relatives?''
Tyra shook her head.
''No.''
''Well, I don't. Not one, and no friends. There's only my wife and me.'' He looked at her, and wondered what he was about to say, would do to her. ''I am going to leave the business to you.'' He stared at her, not wanting to miss her reaction.
''Pardon?' Tyra said. She wasn't really in the mood for jokes.
''I am going to leave the business to you,'' he repeated.
What the hell is he playing at? This isn't funny, doesn't he know I've just buried my parents. She went to stand up, but he put up his hand and stopped her.
''For the last time, Tyra. You will in
herit this business.'' Someone knocked on the door; it was his wife. ''Tell her Eliana, she doesn't believe me.''
''How are you, Tyra? We are very worried about you?'' she said ignoring her husband's plea for help.
''I've been better.'' What are they playing at, surely Jewish people don't give things away like this, she thought?
''My husband, as you know, isn't given to pranks. We have decided to leave it to you. Of course, you are young, and you have only just started in the business, but we see you have got what it takes.'' She put her hand on Tyra's shoulder and looked her into her eyes. ''You are intelligent, and you have an enormous appetite for the business. We have never seen anyone with your enthusiasm. We are both sixty next year and all we have done with our lives is sit in this store.'' She looked at her husband and gave him an assertive nod. ''In five years time, we will retire and travel. You will take over as manager, and when we die, it will all be yours. Take the time between now and then to learn all you can about the business.''
''Are you okay to come back to work?'' Radley asked. Tyra looked at him and burst into tears. It was a gesture so great that her emotions overflowed.
Eliana sat on the chair arm and put her arm around her. ''You have been through a lot, but you have us, and we will help you all we can.''
*****
Tyra started up Google and typed in: 'The Hope Diamond' She read: Value $350 million dollars, 45 karats, 9.1 grams. ''Three hundred and fifty million dollars,'' she whispered under her breath.
She and Radley had agreed that she would work in the shop four days a week and spend the other two days shadowing him. He' made a list of things he had to teach her. He hadn't realized how long the list would prove to be. One thing he couldn't teach her was diamond cutting. While he was an expert at grading and valuing gems, he'd never enjoyed using tools. Tyra had told him that she'd go to college in her own time and learn.
