Big Bad Alpha: A Billionaire Romance

by Tia Siren

  “Chase? Goddammit, man, answer the phone.”

  “I’m here,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I blew out a long breath that filled the air with the stench of another night of my life wasted, given over to the booze. “What’s up?”

  “Have you seen the Trent group thread on FaceSpace this morning?”

  I frowned. It made my head throb. “No, Ron. I don’t read shit on FaceSpace,” I said. “Isn’t it enough that we have to put up with these little bastards in person?”

  “Did you really give your entire English Lit. class an F?” Ron asked. Even his voice coming through the little speaker in my phone made my head hurt. My insides started churning. I blew out a loud fart into the toilet and grunted into the phone.

  “Jesus, man,” Ron said. “Look, you need to get your shit together or you’re gonna be fired.”

  “I know,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I’ve got to get my shit together.” The problem was, I had spent so many years spreading my shit thin, I wasn’t sure that I could ever get it all together again.

  “There’s a thread on FaceSpace that you’re tagged in. You need to fix this before Nancy Dorfmann sees it and goes ballistic.”

  “Fix what?” I asked.

  “Get on FaceSpace now,” he said again. “While you’re sober.”

  Ron clicked off the call and I set my phone on the sink. I sat on the toilet and finished what I’d started, and then I went to search for my computer.

  * * *

  “Shit.”

  It was the only word I could think of to say as I read the long FaceSpace thread that began with me giving everyone an F and then turned into a discussion of Audrey Ross’s virginity.

  Wow. A virgin at Trent State. That was almost like a Big Foot sighting. I read through all the posts, all two hundred of them, not overly surprised by what I’d read.

  That was the problem with these social media platforms. What started out as a legitimate topic of discussion quickly turned into a nasty mob spewing anger and filth and trying to see who could be the most outrageous.

  I didn’t give a shit what they wrote about me, but Audrey Ross must have been reeling after reading all this.

  She was a virgin.

  My brain kept coming back to that point.

  It couldn’t be helped. I was, after all, a full-blooded American male with a pulse. And despite the speculation about my manhood on FaceSpace, my equipment still worked just fine.

  She was a virgin.

  I clicked on Audrey’s name in one of the threads and it took me to her profile page.

  Audrey Ross, age twenty-two, hometown Orlando, business major, relationship status single. Well, that could explain the virginity part.

  She was a pretty girl, with long dark hair and blue eyes. I clicked on her photos. Lots of pictures with friends. I didn’t see a boyfriend in any of the pictures. She smiled a lot, especially when she was with her family. I recognized Rachel the pussy flasher in several pictures.

  What an odd pairing: Rachel the brilliant slut and Audrey the pretty girl who had to try hard to get a B.

  She was not smiling this morning, I thought.

  My eyes went to the message button on her profile page. I didn’t know why—maybe it was because I was sober or maybe it was because I knew I was about to lose tenure anyway—but I clicked on the message button and began to type.

  CHASE: Are you OK?

  The cursor blinked for a moment as it waited for her to reply. I glanced at the clock. It was just after nine a.m. on a Saturday. She was probably still asleep. I was about to close the laptop and go take a much-needed shower when the computer dinged with her reply.

  AUDREY: Is this really Prof. Hollander?

  CHASE: Yes.

  AUDREY: Prove it.

  CHASE: How?

  AUDREY: Tell me why you gave me an F?

  I pondered my reply. There was only one answer.

  CHASE: I was drunk. I gave everyone an F. I’m sorry.

  AUDREY: You must have been really drunk.

  CHASE: I was.

  AUDREY: Is that something you do often? Get so drunk you do stupid things to hurt innocent people?

  I didn’t have to ponder that answer. I’d gotten drunk and done stupid things to innocent people my entire life.

  CHASE: Yes.

  AUDREY: I still don’t believe it’s you.

  I lit a cigarette and searched my memory for something that would prove I was the asshole who had given her the F.

  CHASE: You told me once that you had ADD. I told you to work harder.

  The cursor blinked for a moment.

  AUDREY: YOU’RE SUCH AN ASSHOLE!

  CHASE: You’ll get no argument from me.

  AUDREY: Why would you give me an F????

  CHASE: Like I said, I was drunk. And I’m sorry.

  AUDREY: Asshole.

  CHASE: Are you really a virgin?

  The cursor blinked for nearly a minute. I smoked the cigarette and thought about slamming the laptop shut and getting the fuck out of town. I was probably going to be fired on Monday, and now I was sexually harassing a student. Boy, Chase, could you sink any lower? My hand was resting on the top of the screen, about to close it down, when her response came through.

  AUDREY: Yes, I’m a virgin. Why would you ask me that?

  CHASE: Just curious. I was a virgin once. A long time ago.

  The cursor blinked for a moment.

  AUDREY: Is that something you can help me with?

  CHASE: Yes.

  AUDREY: Will you teach me everything?

  My jaw literally dropped as I read the words. I rested my fingers on the keys for a moment without typing. What the hell… How do you respond to something like that? I typed in my response and hit enter before I could change my mind.

  CHASE: I’m going to teach you how to come and I’m going to make sure you get an A.

  AUDREY: I promise to be a good student.

  CHASE: Would you like to come over now?

  There was no hesitation this time.

  The cursor barely had time to blink.

  AUDREY: Text me your address. I’ll be there within the hour.

  CHAPTER EIGHT: Audrey

  Don’t ask me what I was thinking.

  I didn’t stop to think.

  I was too tired to think.

  I’d tossed and turned all night worrying about that stupid FaceSpace post and how everyone thought it was hilarious that I was still a virgin.

  I didn’t wake up this morning worrying about getting an F. I woke up worried about what else had been posted while I was asleep.

  Before I could look at the posts that had been added overnight, Professor Hollander messaged me. He apologized for giving me an F and then asked if it was true: Was I really a virgin? What the heck kind of a thing was that to ask one of your students whom you barely knew?

  So, what was I thinking?

  Not a fucking thing.

  I just read the words on the screen and decided to act. When Professor Hollander asked if it was true, if I was a virgin, I didn’t blink and I didn’t think. I just typed the words and calmly waited for him to respond.

  Yes, I’m a virgin. Is that something you can help me with?

  Yes. Would you like to come over now?

  Yes, yes, I would. Fuck all those people who were laughing and making fun of me on FaceSpace. I might be a virgin now, but with any luck, I wouldn’t be a virgin long.

  I closed the laptop and sat on my bed for a moment. What the heck had I just done? Had I really just told Professor Hollander that I would come to his place within the hour so he could take my virginity?

  Jeez, that sounded like something out of a romance novel, not out of my life. I had to tell him that I’d changed my mind. I had to tell him that it was just a misunderstanding. I had to…

  Then I felt the heat between my legs. I was sitting cross-legged on my bed and wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a T-shirt, my usual sleeping attire.

  I set the lap
top on the bed and used a finger to pull aside the crotch of the boxers. My pussy was dripping with hot juices. I could smell myself, which just made the juices flow more.

  Oh my god, just the thought of having sex with Professor Hollander was making my pussy flow like a river from a hot spring.

  I leaned back and lifted my ass off the bed to push the boxers down my legs. I lay back on the pillow and spread my legs. I dipped my fingers into my pussy to get them wet, and then I rubbed them slowly over my clit and around my pussy lips.

  My nipples grew hard beneath the T-shirt. I tugged it over my head and threw it aside. As my right hand massaged my pussy and my thumb teased my clit, my left hand cupped my breast. I tweaked my nipple between my fingers, pinching it so hard that it made me moan.

  I closed my eyes as I pushed two fingers into my pussy. The air rushed from my lungs and across my dry lips. I squeezed my breast as the fingers slid in and out of my pussy hole.

  My breathing came in short bursts. Each time my fingers slid inside me up to the knuckle, the air would rush out, and then as my fingers withdrew, the air rushed in.

  I was close to coming. I pulled my fingers out of my pussy and used the juice to lubricate my nipple. My fingers went around the nipple until it grew as hard as a pencil eraser. I squeezed the nipple between my thumb and forefinger as my other hand went back to work on my pussy.

  I dipped my fingers into my soaked pussy again and then stiffened one finger and pressed it to my clit. I started rolling the finger from side to side across my clit until my entire pussy started to vibrate.

  I was coming. I closed my eyes and pictured Chase Hollander on top of me, driving his stiff cock in and out like a jackhammer.

  I lifted my ass off the bed and clenched every muscle of my body as I came against my hand. The hot juices squirted from within me, covering my hand and most of the bed sheet with my juice.

  I collapsed and rubbed both my breasts as I tried to catch my breath. My pussy longed for more. It longed for the touch and tongue and cock of a real man.

  I lay there for a moment and then forced myself off the bed and into the bathroom for a douche and a shower.

  My pussy had to be perfect for the man who would very soon pop my cherry and hopefully give me an A for effort.

  CHAPTER NINE: Chase

  I literally stared at the screen with my mouth hanging open.

  I read the words again.

  Are you really a virgin?

  Yes, I’m a virgin. Is that something you can help me with?

  Yes. Would you like to come over now?

  Text me your address. I’ll be there within the hour.

  Holy shit.

  I reached for the pack of cigarettes on the desk, but my hand froze before reaching the pack. My brain finally decided to get involved in the conversation. As it always did, my brain decided to fuck with me a little.

  Audrey Ross said yes, I am a virgin, you old pervert. Thanks for asking. Is that something you can help me with?

  Good!

  I’m on my way to your house right now so you can pop the shit out of my cherry. Get the old dick oiled up, my son, because you don’t want to disappoint. God forbid your limp dick becomes further fodder for the kids on FaceSpace.

  Did I really have a hot twenty-two-year-old virgin on her way to my house so I could take her virginity?

  Unless I was still drunk and hallucinating things, apparently that was the case.

  I forgot all about the cigarettes.

  I realized the awful stench that had been assaulting my nostrils was coming from me.

  I slammed the laptop shut and ran to the bathroom to take a shower.

  * * *

  I closed my eyes and let the hot shower jets beat against my neck. If life was not playing another of its cruel jokes on me, I was less than an hour away from fucking a beautiful girl half my age. I shut off the water and dried myself off with the cleanest dirty towel I could find. The bathroom, like the rest of the house, was filthy. I didn’t have time to pick up or do any cleaning before Audrey arrived. Hopefully she would judge me on my ability to make her come and not my housekeeping skills.

  I stood in front of the mirror and wiped off the steam with the back of my hand. I leaned in to take a good, long hard look at myself. I used to be a good-looking man, a real hottie, or at least that was what Emily had said when we first met in college twenty-years ago.

  I’d played rugby in school, so I’d had a good amount of muscle packed onto my six-foot frame. She had said I looked like a surfer dude with my shaggy blond hair and my mom’s blue eyes.

  Emily had said she could see forever in my eyes. Forever only lasted about ten years before I finally drove her away.

  I leaned into the mirror and stared into the same eyes that Emily once found so appealing. It had been two years since she’d looked into these eyes. I doubted she could see forever in them anymore.

  Shit, I couldn’t even see tomorrow in these eyes.

  My eyes were bloodshot, like dull blue marbles in a milky pool with little red lines webbing from the edges like lightning bolts. I picked up the bottle of Visine I kept on the sink and filled both eyes until tears ran down my cheeks.

  I turned on the hot water and lathered up my face for a shave. I stared at myself in the mirror again. I wasn’t bad looking for my age, I supposed. I had little laugh lines around my eyes, though I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually laughed.

  I was pale because I never went outside other than to get in and out of my car at work or to go to the Safeway for more booze. A tan would do me good, I thought. Then my brain reminded me that men who didn’t plan on living much longer shouldn’t concern themselves with a tan.

  “Maybe I wanna have a good-looking corpse,” I said to myself as I lifted my neck and dragged the razor over my skin. The razor sounded like sandpaper as it plowed through the whiskers on my face. I managed to shave without slitting my own throat. Any other day that might have been the highlight of my day, but not today.

  No, today I had something to do, a favor for a new friend.

  She needed my help, and say what you would about Chase Hollander, but he never let a friend down.

  Okay, that was complete bullshit.

  Chase Hollander had let everyone down.

  His parents, his employer, his wife, his little daughter…

  They had all suffered because Chase Hollander was around.

  Period.

  End of story.

  CHAPTER TEN: Audrey

  I did not allow myself to think about anything other than showering, putting on a little makeup and perfume, and wearing something easy to get out of to Chase Hollander’s house.

  I didn’t think about the horrible things people were probably still saying about me on FaceSpace.

  I didn’t think about the voice mail Rachel left me in the middle of the night, crying her eyes out and apologizing for Duke being such a fucking moron.

  I didn’t think about the FaceSpace messages I’d exchanged with Chase. Wow, that sounded weird inside my own head. Chase. I assumed I could call him Chase now that I planned on giving my virginity to him.

  I was gonna let him pop my cherry like a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July.

  I was gonna ride his cock like a rocking horse.

  I was gonna sit on his face like a bicycle seat…

  Shit, Audrey, stop thinking. And please stop trying to be funny.

  I didn’t bother with underwear, because I didn’t want to be slowed down. I was on a mission, and the faster the mission started, the less likely it was that I would pull out, no pun intended.

  I wiggled into a pair of black yoga pants (Rachel said guys loved yoga pants) without any panties. I looked in the mirror. The yoga pants sucked into my twat, making for an interesting camel toe. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have left the house with my twat so blatantly displayed, but again, I was on a mission.

  I didn’t have much in the way of boobs. My boobs were small, but my nippl
es were long and thick, like an oversized pencil eraser. Very suckable nips, Audrey, if I do say so myself.

  I pulled on a Trent State T-shirt and slipped on a pair of running shoes. Five minutes later with my courage mustered and car keys in hand, I went out the front door and got into my car without speaking to anyone.

  Several of the girls stared at me as I walked by, no doubt excited to spot an actual virgin in their midst. Fuck, they looked like they had spotted an alien or something.

  Stare all you want bitches. In a few minutes this alien virgin would be just as big a slut as the rest of you.

  * * *

  I pulled up to the address Chase had given me and turned off the car. I sat there for a moment, looking in the rearview mirror and up and down the street. I was just being paranoid. Nobody followed me. Nobody gave a shit what I was doing. This was between me and Chase Hollander, student and teacher. And this time I would earn an A, no matter what it took.

  I remembered the first time I’d seen Chase, standing at the front of the classroom in his wrinkled khaki pants and equally wrinkled polo shirt. He was a hottie regardless of his age. Chase was well-built, with shaggy blond hair and rugged good looks.

  All the girls in the class flirted with him the first week or two before realizing there was no point to it. He seemingly wasn’t interested in young pussy. Heck, Rachel even flashed her bare cooch at him a time or two, but he only responded with a look that made her slap her thighs together.

  Chase Hollander never smiled, never joked around.

  He always smelled of cigarettes and alcohol.

  And he had a sadness in his eyes that seemed to well from deep inside him and pool around his shoulders as if the weight of the world rested there.

  Rachel told me once that his wife left him when they lost a child or something. Something like that could break any man, I thought. It was obviously doing a number on Chase Hollander.

  I looked out the window at the front of his house. It was a little one-bedroom bungalow in the older part of town. The paint was peeling. The windows were dirty. The grass needed cutting. The hedges needed trimming. His car, an old Beamer that had seen better days, was parked crookedly in the driveway.