''I still don't believe you,'' she said.
*****
'Ryan I'm moving out. I've got an apartment of my own,'' she said one morning.
''Never mind that now. Go home and pack some clothes. We're going on a trip.''
''Where to?''
''Paris.''
''France?'' He looked at her, and she knew she'd been dumb. ''What shall I pack?''
''Toothbrush.''
''Ryan. What are we going to do there? If I know, I will be able to pack accordingly.''
''We're going to do a deal on an apartment building. We'll be gone three nights, so take business clothes and clothes you can relax in. Oh, and take an evening dress.''
''But I haven't got one.''
''Jesus Alina. Do I have to mother you?''
''No, you don't.' She stormed out of the office. It was the first time he'd really snapped at her. Perhaps he was under pressure; maybe a deal was going wrong somewhere. Or maybe he was just tiring of her. Maybe she ought to accept his offer of an apartment.
Actually, she was driving Ryan nuts. She wouldn't accept his offers nor stay long at his parties, and he wanted her so badly. He'd given it a lot of thought. He'd even considered knocking on her bedroom door and helping himself, but she was very young, and he didn't want to overly upset her. He'd always gotten women by giving them things, expensive things that they had to feel guilty about taking. And the result had always been the same, until now. He'd decided to see if he could crack her resistance in Paris. After all, if she didn't feel a bit sexy in the French capital she must be frigid, he concluded.
''It's a BBJ,'' Ryan shouted as they walked from the Rolls Royce to his private jet.
''What's a BBJ?'' Alina shouted back.
''Boeing Business Jet.''
''Is it yours?''
''Of course, it is.''
Alina was apprehensive. She'd had so little time to find a nice dress she was sure she'd look like a sack of potatoes in Paris. She didn't like flying much, and the thought of flying so far made her very nervous.
Inside it wasn't at all like a commercial jet. It was like a small apartment. There was a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen and a wonderful sitting area with large leather seats.
''Who flies this thing,'' she asked when they were strapped into a seat.
''Father Christmas. Heavens Alina.''
''I'm just really nervous, that's all. Sorry.''
Ryan looked at her and took a more sympathetic approach. ''When we get up above the clouds, we'll have a glass of Champagne. That ought to settle your nerves.''
Alina didn't have time to answer. The plane sped down the runway thrusting her back into her seat. She closed her eyes and said goodbye to her parents and wished she'd stayed in New York.
''Here drink this,'' Ryan said shortly after the Captain had turned off the seat-belt signs.
Alina took the drink and gulped it down, then held out the glass for more. Ryan laughed and obliged. After two full glasses, she was much calmer, even enjoying the flight.
''You know you're a great PA,'' he said. ''Really good.''
''Thanks. You're a great boss.'' She smiled at him. He decided to take a chance. He leaned forward and tried to kiss her. She turned her head away. ''No Ryan. I like you, really like you, but I don't want to mix work and pleasure.''
Maybe she would change her mind after some more Champagne he thought. He offered her another glass, but she refused, aware of what he was doing. They spent the rest of the flight in silence. She fell into a deep sleep, and Ryan sat and looked at what he so badly wanted but was unable to have.
*****
The Four Seasons George V Hotel in Paris is so luxury-laden only the worlds richest people can afford to stay there. But that's where Alina found herself, courtesy of her job with Ryan. It was ridiculous, her bedroom had a chandelier. The bathroom was an echoing chamber of marble and gold, and she spent an age pampering herself there.
They'd arrived in the middle of the morning. In the luxury limousine which had picked them up from the airport, Alina saw very different architecture than she was used to. The center of Paris took her breath away. The hustle and bustle, Notre Dame and L'Arch de Triomphe and all the Baroque buildings. She instantly fell in love with the place.
Ryan and Alina had agreed to get some sleep and meet up for dinner at seven. The business part of the trip was to begin the following day. At six, Alina was already in her evening gown. She stood and looked at herself. She held her stomach in and let it out. She cursed when she saw, what she perceived to be a huge belly appear again.
''My God, you look stunning,'' Ryan said.
''So do you,'' she said. He was wearing black tie evening wear.
They sat down to dinner, and Alina felt Ryan's eyes on her throughout the evening. Her hair was pinned back over her ears, and she wore droplet earrings that looked like real diamonds. Around her neck a perfectly good copy of a diamond necklace.
After dinner, Ralph stood up and gave her his arm. They walked to the elevator together and went to the top floor. At her bedroom door, they stopped and looked at each other.
''I want you, Alina. I want to come into you room with you.''
''No Ryan. It's not right. I work for you.''
''Yes you do, don't you? In that case here's the deal. I'm changing your job description.''
''How?''
''I'm giving you some extra duties. Compulsory duties.''
''Are you talking about the kind of duties I think you are?''
''Yes. Now let me into your room, with you.''
''But Ryan.....it's''
He took the key from her hand, opened the door and pulled her inside. He kicked the door shut with his foot and threw his arms around her. He smelled lovely and suddenly Alina was torn. She'd tried to be professional, she really had. But there was a limit to the level of resistance a woman could maintain. It felt so good to be in his arms; his scent made her legs weak. She put her head against his chest and let him stroke her hair, all the way down her back. When his hand reached down to cup a buttock she thrust her head up, her eyes begging him to kiss her. When he did, it was so wonderful. It was highly unprofessional, and she had no idea where it would lead, but it felt so good, she couldn't stop.
They kissed passionately, then more gently. Lingering, tasting each other, mapping out the ground for the onslaught they both knew was coming.
Slowly but firmly, he unzipped her dress and put his hand on her back. She pushed off his jacket and pulled his tie open. They were in a rush now. Each busying themselves with their own clothing. When Alina stepped out of her dress he pulled her to him and put his head on her breasts, his hand kneading them through her bra. She heard him breathing in her scent, and it drove her wild. Her hands flew to his waistband, eager to find what was hidden beneath. She snapped open the buttons and reached inside. What she found made her sight with pleasure. He was long, thick and very hard. As she ran her hand up and down him, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Before it hit the ground, his mouth was on her nipples, sucking urgently, making them hard and making her squirm. When she felt his hand inside he panties, she rubbed his penis harder. His fingers expertly found what they were looking for and played.
''Put me on the bed and take me'' she whispered, desperate to have him inside her.
He picked her up and waddled, his pants around his ankles, to the bed. He threw her down and watched as her hair fanned out around her face and her breasts wobbled. He pulled off her panties and bent down to her taste her womanhood. When she felt his mouth on her, she cried out and pulled his hair. He gritted his teeth and endured the pain.
''God you taste so good,'' he said, pulling up to take off his clothes.
''Hurry up I want you back down there.''
She needn't have worried. His mouth searched out her clitoris and began to trace small circles over it. The feeling of this man between her legs was indescribable. There was something so different about it. She'd had sex twice before wit
h young men she'd liked from college. But this was in another league. He was a mature man who knew exactly how to please her, and he was rich and handsome.
Soon she began to gasp for air. His mouth still on her wet folds, his hands massaging her breasts, driving her on to what became a wet, mind blowing orgasm.
Still standing next to the bed, he pulled her to him and opened her legs. She didn't want him to see her belly and turned onto her stomach. When he looked down at the curve of her hips and buttocks and the length of her well defined back, his penis became so hard it began to ache. He spread her legs, put his tip to her opening and pushed himself into her warmth. She shoved her head into the bed and grabbed the sheets.
''God Alina, you're so hot,'' he said, gasping for air as he thrust hard, his thighs banging against her buttocks. ''Do you like it?''
She turned her head to one side. ''I love it. Give it to me harder.''
He took her hair, pulled her head up and thrust as hard as he could. She cried out and shook under him. He felt her getting still wetter as another orgasm shuddered through her. When she came, he let go of her hair, and she fell to the bed, letting out a huge moan.
Still inside her, he began to massage her back. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced. He wasn't in a rush; he was taking the time to please all of her. She sighed as his hands relieved the tensions of the last few days and moaned when he started to thrust again, this time slowly, with long regular strokes.
''My God Ryan, you're so......'' She didn't finish. Her next orgasm took over. His hands massaging her back and the feel of him moving inside her was too much. She held onto the bed when her whole body convulsed.
He was anxious to see her face now. He pulled out of her and turned her over. Her hands flew to her belly, but he pulled them away and kissed the area she was trying to hide. She tried to push him away but he didn't move. The kisses continued until she relaxed.
''All of you is beautiful,'' he said.
''Buy I hate my....'' He put a finger to her lips, and she fell silent.
He got onto the bed next to her and pushed her legs open. She threw her arms around him when he entered her again. His body felt great on hers. It was hard and muscular, and she loved the feel of the hairs on his thighs. She rubbed her hand over his chin, feeling the coarseness.
As he thrust, they kissed. Their tongues thrusting in time to his penis. Soon she felt his shaft twitching, and she knew he couldn't last much longer. Now she didn't care whether he was her boss or not. He was her lover, and his arousal was her's.
''Come inside me,'' she said. ''I want your sperm deep in me.'' Ryan cried out, pushed her arms into the bed and came, remaining still until every drop left him.
*****
It was as most days in LA, beautiful. Only it was much warmer than usual. Alina was dreading the day in front of her. She and Ryan had been lovers for months, but she was beginning to have doubts about where it was all leading. Reluctantly she'd decided that Ryan wasn't the man for her. He wasn't husband material and never would be. Ryan was married to his business, and as long as he had a beautiful woman to bang he would be happy.
''Ryan can I talk to you?'' she said as soon as he arrived.
''Sure. For you, anything.'' He was in a great mood, and that made her task all the more difficult.
''Ryan I've decided I want to end our relationship.''
''Nice one. Now, what do you really want to talk about?''
''Ryan. Listen to me. I don't want it anymore. It's not right. You're my boss. I know I've let it go on for too long, but I hope you understand. It's not right.''
''Why do you want to stop?''
''I've told you. You're the boss and always will be. We will never have a relationship on an even footing. I have learned so much here, about business and about.......sex.''
''He smiled. Which have you learned more about?''
''Sex,'' she admitted.
''Okay. If you stay, you know I'll always want you.''
''That's just the problem. You're the boss, and I'll always feel like I have to give myself to you.''
''What about Paris?'' he asked.
''What?''
''Pierre, the developer we met, he told me he's looking for an international PA. It'd be great for you. A chance in a million.''
''Ryan,'' she exclaimed. ''That would be....fab.''
''Then I'll call him.''
*****
Alina lived and worked in Paris for the rest of her life. Every time she passed the Four Seasons George V Hotel, she remembered the night she'd first made love to Ryan. She saw it as the moment her great adventure began. If she'd hadn't made love to him, she wouldn't be in Paris and she would never have met her wonderful husband Jacques, or had her children Emma and Charlotte.
*****
THE END
MOTORCYCLE CLUB Romance - Bad Boy Biker’s Bride
Five years is a long time. It would have been longer if my mother hadn’t up and got sick. She was an old bat, crazy as they come, and to me, she always seemed invincible when I was younger. I guess I was wrong.
I hated her while I was growing up. We never saw eye to eye. She was devout and resolute in her beliefs. I was always the carefree spirit, ready to hit the road when the whim took me. She probably hated that about me, kept wanting me to settle down and start a family. She should have known that just wasn’t who I was.
When the taxi dropped me off in front of the old house, I wanted nothing more than to set the place on fire and leave, almost did when I was younger. Too many memories were made in this house, and most of them I wished I could forget.
The house looked as it always had, run down but taken care of. The paint was faded and cracking, and the windows were so grimy they couldn’t be seen through. The small white picket fence was still there, almost entirely knocked over now.
I wondered what my dad would think of it after all these years. I always thought of his grizzled face staring down at me from whatever cloud he was sitting on; judging as he always had. I’d still received messages from him the entire time I was away, but they stopped after he caught a bullet. I guess if you live as loud as he did, you’d end up in a grave sooner rather than later.
“Hey momma,” I shouted from the front door.
“Tara, is that you?” she replied from the den.
I clomped around the house in my old motorcycle boots till I found her.
“Yeah, it’s me, momma. How you feelin’?” I asked.
“How the hell do you think I’m feeling? I can barely get up to take a piss. Get over here and give your momma a hug,” she said.
I learned from an early age that you don’t say no when your mother asks you to do something. I leaned over her and gave her a solid embrace.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked.
“You can get me the last twenty years of my life back; that would do it,” she laughed only to start hacking and coughing.
I patted her back in a vain attempt to help her. I looked through her prescriptions; one of which was empty, looked like painkillers.
“How about you just get me a refill on that before my aches start acting up again? I was just going to watch TV anyway.”
“Alright, momma. I’ll be back.”
“I think your old bike is still in the garage, if you want to use that to get around. I haven’t had a car for a couple of years now.”
“I’m glad you never got rid of it,” I said.
“Some things you can’t get rid of,” she replied.
I gave her a kiss on the forehead and took the pill bottle, tucking it into my pocket.
I went back outside and circled around to the old garage. My dad’s old car was still sat there, waiting for someone to care. I eyed my old motorcycle, peeking out from behind a canvas sheet I’d thrown over it years ago.
My hand moved automatically, tugging the sheet away. She was a killer ride, and I wondered how I’d gone so long without her in my life. The day to day just didn’t ha
ve the same feel as it had when I was younger and more irresponsible.
I ran my hand along the gas tank, wiping away the layers of dirt she was covered in. She wasn’t the biggest bike, nor was she the fastest, but she was mine, and that was all that mattered.
I threw my leg over, and a cloud of dust met me as I settled into the seat. I jerked down on the starter and just as she always had; she turned over on the first crank.
I hadn’t ridden in so many years; I started to get antsy. She wanted to be taken out to flex those old muscles. I walked my way out of the garage carefully avoiding the old car.
I started feeling that sense of freedom I’d had all those years ago. The freedom I had when I snuck out late at night to meet up with my old boyfriend; the nights when I’d make a mistake and come home in handcuffs; even the nights when I wouldn’t come home at all, the memories were all flooding back.
I steered myself away from my old home and joined up with the road. There was a canyon road that had some of the finest sights in the area, and I felt it the perfect time to see them, momma could wait a few more minutes.
When I was free from the town I let loose, my hair whipped in the wind, and the sun warmed my face. I opened her up and leaned into the corners; I had these roads all memorized and could ride them blindfolded.
Then the familiar rumble of a motorcycle gang filled the canyon. I sense of dread befell me; if it was the person I thought it was, then I had no idea what I’d say to him. I pulled my cycle off the road and clicked her off.
From the bend in the road, a band of motorcycles filed out. I didn’t recognize any of them, which left me with a feeling of relief. But, the guys still made eyes at me as they rode by.
I was used to it. I’d had a lot of guys fight over me in the past. But, none were as strong as Buck. I once saw him beat up three guys at the same time just for looking at me. He knew how to impress a woman.
There was a time when I would have done anything for that man, but he could never see me as his one and only. I’d always catch him with another girl, and he never understood why I thought it was such a big deal. If he wanted me to be his, then he needed to be mine.
Romance: Young Adult Romance: The Perfect Game (A Highschool Football Romance) (Bad Boy Nerd New Adult Romance) Page 8
