Tied to Him

by Tia Siren

  Her orgasm caught her by surprise, and she called out in a long moan under the azure blue sky, her nails trailing painful lines down David’s bare back.

  “Come for me,” he said in his Russian accent.

  “I am,” she groaned as another wave of pleasure overtook her. David thrust forward as she finished, burying his cock deep inside her.

  “I want to swallow your cum,” Cherry purred, and David was happy to oblige. He pulled out of her, and she set her feet down on the bottom of the pool while he lifted himself up and onto the edge, his calves and feet still in the water.

  Cherry situated herself between his knees, his massive cock red and throbbing before her body. She cupped her breasts on either side and moved forward so his rigid member would slip between her tits. She bent her head to suck on the tip of his cock while she used her hands to lift her tits and lower them, the sensation of her slick breasts heavenly on his sensitive dick.

  Cherry fucked David with her tits while sucking his tip until she knew he was about to come, and then she moved her breasts and lowered her mouth fully over his shaft, her lips pressing against his ball sack, the head of his cock dangling down her throat. She gagged herself but didn’t stop, pulling up so that only his tip remained inside her wet mouth until she slid down again, once more taking him in her throat. She moved quickly, not wanting to be sweet and caring, instead wanting him to absolutely fuck her mouth, until finally he grunted and put his hand on the back of her head, holding her in place, choking her as his cock jumped in her mouth and he blew his hot load down her throat.

  She gasped when she pulled away, and then she started to laugh as some of his pearly white cum slid out past her lips. She slid her finger along her chin, gathering the spunk, and ate it once more.

  David left the next day. They made love that night, in the bed, the windows open, the soft breeze rolling over their naked bodies. He was gone before she woke. It was just her and the maid in the large house, and Cherry found herself growing sad as each day passed and the man didn’t return.

  Weeks passed before he came back. When he did, he was in a bad mood. He fucked her for five nights, hard and fast, filling her with his seed or forcing his cock into her mouth before he blew, even painting her tits and chin with it. She came too, of course, but he didn’t seem to care. She knew he was stressed, was in danger of losing it all. Then he left again, back to America. Back to regain control.

  Cherry was pregnant. She found out three days after he left again. She had missed her period and had sent the maid to the mainland for a test. She took it and sent the woman for another. She took that one too, and it had the same reading. She was with child.

  When David came back two weeks later, she told him as soon as she saw him. Anger flashed in his eyes. She had thought he would be excited. She had realized she loved the man, had fallen for him despite who he was, despite what he did. But when she saw that anger, she didn’t know.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” David asked, his accent thick. He hadn’t tried to sound American since they had left Chicago.

  “No,” Cherry said. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  “I thought you were on the pill,” David demanded.

  “I am.”

  “What the fuck happened?”

  “It can happen!” Cherry said. “Stop being angry.”

  “Everything I have is gone! I’m fighting for it all, trying to hold on with my fingertips,” David snarled. “Don’t you understand that?”

  “Fuck you,” Cherry said, and that was the end of the conversation. She went to bed alone that night. She woke up alone, before the sun was even out. She got out of bed and went down to the kitchen. Standing at the sink, she filled a glass with water and drank it. In the backyard was a small hut. The maid, a Greek woman in her thirties named Beth, which of course was short for something more exotic sounding, lived there. The light was on. Cherry could see through the window. There, bent over a kitchen table, was Beth, nude. David stood behind her, plowing her with his large cock. Tears swam in Cherry’s eyes, and she ran back upstairs.

  She packed what she could, finding a small bag in the back of the closet. She hurried out the front door. The ferry wouldn't come by until later that morning, but there was a small row boat tied to the dock. She got in and set out for the mainland.

  It took her hours, but she made it. The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon. She had taken money too, and she bought a room in the city. It was small and lonely, and she sat on the end of the bed and wondered what she was going to do next.

  Her cell phone rang. It was David, and she didn’t answer.

  Days passed, and he called and called. She didn’t answer or listen to the messages he left. He texted her, but she didn’t read those either.

  One day Cherry was getting lunch at a small shop near the hotel when a man took her by the arm.

  “You’re a hard woman to find,” the man snarled as she turned. He jabbed a gun into her ribs. “Don’t try anything,” the man said. He was American, and Cherry hadn’t heard anyone with that accent in days.

  She nodded to show she understood and let the man lead her out of the shop. A car was waiting nearby, and he pushed her into the backseat. Nathan was there.

  “Cherry, holy fuck, I had to come to Greece to get you,” Nathan said as the other man got behind the wheel and started driving.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked.

  “Where is David?”

  So they didn’t know where he lived. They just had found out he had a home in Greece.

  “If I tell you, will you let me go?” Cherry asked.

  Nathan grinned and nodded. “This has grown beyond you,” he said. “You have my word. I’m over that earlier stuff. So you saw what I was planning. To be honest, you made me jump forward on my time table, and everything has worked out. I’ll even give you your old job back.”

  Cherry considered it all. She didn’t know if Nathan was telling the truth, of course, but she didn’t care what happened to David, not after what she had seen.

  “I’ll take you there,” she said finally, and Nathan grinned.

  6

  David was worried. He had been for days. He didn’t know where Cherry had gone. He had been rough on her—he knew that—but wasn’t she taking things too far? He would apologize; he would win her back. He had too. He loved her, and he wanted to be a father.

  The bell rang. Beth had the day off, so she wouldn’t be getting the door. David went and pulled it open.

  “Cherry,” he said, seeing her first, and then it dawned on him who she was with. “Nathan,” David growled, reaching for the gun he always kept on him, but Nathan already had his drawn.

  “Mind if we come in?” Nathan asked sardonically, and David stepped back. Only one other man was with Nathan, but David had no way of telling if there were others out of sight.

  “Where have you been?” David asked Cherry.

  “I saw you two,” Cherry spat. “You and Beth. You fucked her!”

  “I didn’t!” David said, and then it all dawned on him. He knew what she had seen. He could explain it to her, but he had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

  “You did!” Cherry said, her voice full of hurt.

  “Enough,” Nathan said. “I should have just killed you both right away, but I wanted you to know it was me.”

  “You little shit,” David said. Nathan laughed and lifted his gun, aiming it at Cherry.

  “You said!” Cherry said, her eyes going wide.

  “I lied,” Nathan said, and then there was a loud bang.

  Nathan crumpled to the ground, his head red and horrible, a bullet having slammed through the back of it.

  Cherry turned as another shot rang out. A man in the doorway was stalking forward, limping, a gun raised. He had killed Nathan’s driver.

  “Any more?” David asked the man while Cherry tried to take it all in. The man who had saved them looked almost identical to David. Same build, same square jaw, sam
e color hair. It was uncanny.

  “Who is this?” Cherry asked, looking to her David. She could see the differences, looking back and forth between the two men, but at a distance they would easily pass for one another.

  “His name is Tom,” David said. “I hired him because he looks just like me. Safety precaution. He’s a double and a bodyguard. He was injured back home some months ago; I sent him her to recuperate. He and Beth have hit it off, to say the least.”

  Cherry got it then. Tom had been fucking Beth, not David. She felt stupid, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. David stepped forward and took her hands.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “About before. I’m excited about the baby. I am. I’m excited about you. I have a lot of work to do, and it isn’t pretty work, but I wanted you to know I’m in, if you are.

  Cherry looked at David, keeping her eyes off the dead bodies at her feet. She nodded. It was a wild life and a wild world, and she didn’t know what she was getting herself into, but she knew David would always keep her safe. She kissed him.

  “I’m in,” she said as she pulled slowly away.

  *****

  THE END

  Bad Boy Biker’s Baby

  1

  Sherry Loveland hated her new job, but at least it was paying the bills. And it was a good starting point, with a lot of opportunities to move up within the company. She lived in Texas, near the border, in a small town called Happy. Happy, Texas, was anything but, with dusty roads and small squat homes and shops along Main Street.

  Sherry had always been good with numbers, and she had found a job as an accountant for a small company that sold plastic to larger companies who then molded the plastic into something. Water bottles mostly. It was boring work in a boring building with boring people. But, maybe, boring was exactly what Sherry needed.

  Growing up most of her friends had called her Love, a play on her name and the fact that she burned through men the way other people burned through underwear. Sherry was short with round hips and big breasts, and she had long blond hair that men loved to take hold of while they were in bed.

  Sherry had grown up in Oklahoma, and it was right after high school that she met Randy, a tall, athletic man a few years older who played minor league baseball. He had swept her off her feet and then revealed his true colors. He was, to put it quite frankly, the way Sherry had said to her best friend, Sue, an asshole. The relationship had lasted two years; the whole time Sherry had been telling herself to leave. Finally, she did. And when she did something, she did it right. She didn’t just leave Randy; she left Oklahoma.

  And she ended up in Happy and got her boring job. She had been there a little over three months, and the only thing in Happy, Texas, that she found made her happy was Earl’s, a shady biker bar on the outskirts of town. It was filled with rough men, loose women, and a blaring jukebox that hadn’t been updated since the eighties. It was exactly the kind of place Sherry had always loved.

  It was Friday night when Sherry met him, the man who would change her life. She left work and headed straight for Earl’s. She had worked late, trying to win favor from her boss, an old man named Michael who was stingy with money. She could use a raise; the small apartment she rented near the center of town had a bug problem and an obnoxious neighbor problem as well. There were a number of nice little homes in town, empty and waiting for her. On her salary, though, she couldn’t afford one.

  One step at a time; that was what Sherry kept telling herself. She was young still, just twenty-one, and she had just left a horrible man who didn’t deserve her. She had left everything behind in Oklahoma—her friends, her family, the stupid nickname. She wasn’t Love anymore; she was herself. Sherry. She just needed her job, and Earl’s, and she would make it.

  Earl’s was a wooden building that seemed as though it might fall over in a stiff breeze. The parking lot was gravel, and there were always a few cars in it, and a long line of Harley’s at the entrance. Sherry pulled into a spot near the door and headed for the bar.

  She was a bit overdressed, she knew; most of the women in the bar would be dressed like the men: blue jeans, T-shirts, leather vests. Biker chicks. Sherry was attracted to bad boys, but she would never call herself a biker chick. She was dressed for work, with a short skirt and heels and a tight-fitting blouse. She knew her boss, Michael, had hired her for her big tits more than her way with numbers, though her way with numbers was just as impressive as her bust, so she played up her good looks in hopes that the man would want to keep her around. Sherry was smart, and she had no problem playing to any strengths she had, including the looks she had been blessed with.

  She had worked late enough that, as she stepped into the bar, the sky outside was rather dark, the sun just a bright line on the western horizon. Heads turned as she made for the bar, sitting on a stool there and folding one hosed leg over the other.

  She had come to recognize some of the faces, older men and women who came every day, or at least every Friday and Saturday like Sherry.

  But there was a new group now, in the corner, seven or so men and a few women. One man seemed to be holding court, sitting at the head of the long table and downing beer from a massive glass stein. He was relatively young. Sherry wouldn’t put him past thirty, while a lot of the men in Earl’s had thick gray beards that put them near fifty or even sixty. This man was clean shaven, or at least for a biker, which he clearly was; stubble grew on his chin and upper lip, dark like his hair. He wore a black vest with nothing underneath, and as Sherry sipped at a beer and watched him, he turned, and she saw a coiled snake sitting atop a skull on the back of his vest. Other men at the table wore the same symbol, as well as one of the women, a thick girl with red hair.

  The man saw Sherry and kept glancing in her direction, and Sherry was sure he was going to come up to her. But before he ever could, the night wore on and a fight broke out.

  There had been scuffles at Earl’s almost every night Sherry had been there, but this one was something more. A man in a vest with a different insignia came up to speak with the young man with the stubble. Their voices grew louder, and then fists were flying. Other men came to join them, and then the whole place was nothing but yelling and fighting and punching.

  A switchblade came out and one man was stabbed. He fell back on wild feet, knocking into the bar, shaking it so violently that Sherry had to reach forward and steady her beer. Earl himself was behind the bar most nights, and he was a big man with a beard that fell almost to his belly button.

  “Enough!” he roared. “No stabbing in here, you idiots.”

  The fight stopped for a moment, and then one man yelled for everyone to go outside, and they did. Sherry had always been drawn to excitement, so she followed the brawl outside and stood near the front door with the other women. Almost every man in the bar had chosen a side and was fighting, and Sherry saw that even the man who had been stabbed was fighting once more, a hand clamped determinedly over his bleeding gut. The bikers were all careful to keep away from the row of motorcycles; that much was plain. But they paid no such respect to the cars in the parking lot. And as Sherry watched on in horror, the handsome man with the chin stubble lifted a fat guy into the air and slammed him onto her car. Her car. The windshield shattered.

  Without thought, Sherry marched into the midst of the fighting and tapped the man with the stubble on the shoulder. He spun around, his fist raised as if to strike her. But when he saw it was a woman, he put his hand down.

  “What do you want?” he snarled. “I’m busy here.”

  Sherry saw that his name was sewn onto the lapel of his leather vest, or at least a nickname: Colt.

  “That’s my damned car!” Sherry shouted. She had been with an abusive man for too long to be afraid of Colt.

  “Get out of here. You’re going to get hurt,” Colt said, and he took her by the arm and led her back to the entrance of Earl’s.

  “What about my car?”

  “Why don’t you go order us a couple of bee
rs, sweet thing, and when I’m done kicking ass out here, we can talk it over.”

  And with that, he turned and dove back into the ruckus. Sherry fumed, but she did as the man had asked. She went in and claimed a small table after ordering two beers, and twenty minutes later the cops had been called, the fight had broken up, and a few men had been carted off to jail. Colt wasn’t one of them—even though the fight had started with him and the other man—and he came in and sat across from Sherry. She waited for him to speak, but first he took his beer and downed the whole thing.

  “You only got me one?” he asked, smiling across the table.

  “You broke my windshield. I can’t drive like that. I can’t afford to fix it.”

  “Well shit, if it’s all just money,” Colt said, and he pulled out a thick wallet and tossed a couple of hundred dollar bills in front of her. “That should cover it. And I can give you a ride tonight.”

  Sherry didn’t know what to say. Colt grinned and held out his hand. “I’m Colt,” he said. Sherry shook it.

  “That’s a stupid name,” she said, and Colt laughed.

  “It’s not my real name. It’s like the gun. Big, powerful.”

  “You aren’t that big,” Sherry said. She was annoyed by the man’s bravado, and she was even more annoyed that she felt a strong attraction to him.

  Colt just laughed, but Sherry was pretty sure he flexed his muscles a bit as he did so. She couldn’t help but smile.

  “You new here?” he asked her then. “I ain’t never seen you before.”

  “Moved her a couple of months ago. I’ve been here every weekend. Where you been?”

  “I like to ride,” he said, and he didn’t elaborate.

  “That’s a fancy vest,” Sherry said.

  Colt frowned as he looked at her, trying to decide if she was making fun of him or not. “You heard of the Vipers?”

  “No. Is that your club?”

  “Yeah. My daddy started it. I run it now.”

  “I don’t know much about motorcycles,” Sherry said truthfully.

  “Then why you hanging out in a biker bar?”