Copyright 2017 by (Alexandra Stone) - All rights reserved.
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Road Warriors
Virgin Secret Baby Second Chance MC Romance
By: Alexandra Stone
Table of Contents
Introduction
Road Warriors
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SPECIAL FAN BONUS
First time with an older man
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
Alice and the Older Man
Billionaire Boss
CHAPTER ONE
Savannah Gentleman’s Club
CHAPTER TWO
Savannah Steam
CHAPTER THREE
Pillow Talk
CHAPTER FOUR
Decadent Breakfast
Doctor's Order
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
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Introduction
I'm very thankful for your interest in my book. I write with passion as if I was living this story myself.
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Please enjoy this story.
Road Warriors
CHAPTER ONE
My father, who happened to be the leader of the motorcycle gang, the road warriors, raised me. He was very adamant that I would not end up a motorcycle mamma and last year after I graduated high school he sent me off to college, paid for with funds that he acquired through the gang in a an nontraditional sense. Now I was home for the summer and I had missed the motorcycle lifestyle dearly. I had a hard time fitting in at college because I had this attitude that had been instilled in me. I knew that I would forever be the motorcycle blood type, but my father would have none of it. He made me promise to never fool around with anyone in the gang, which was a promise I always kept, until this summer. There was a new recruit in the gang named Johnny Green. The first time I saw him, I knew I was in trouble. I just didn’t expect that the trouble would take us on a cross-country adventure that would change my life forever.
It had only been home for two days and my father was making me go to the library to keep up with my studies. I actually enjoyed the library so I didn’t mind going.
“Brittany your mind is a muscle and you have to keep exercising it,” my father Seth Black said to me.
I didn’t argue with him because there was no winning and argument with him. He was a tough man that no one crossed. His ruthlessness was how he remained the pack leader for years. Everyone feared him.
That day I got dressed and I pulled my long brown hair high into a ponytail and I brushed on some black mascara that accentuated my big brown eyes. I pulled on a stripped sweater, jeans, and calf high boots. I decided the best place to go was the city library. It was my solace. I was sitting there at a table reading some William S. Burroughs when I saw him across the library. I lowered my book and peered over the top. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt, jeans, and army boots. His hair was long but pulled back into a low messy bun with loose tendrils of hair around his face. It was dark and stringy. I had never seen him before. I would remember seeing someone like him. I was flushed with excitement that he was there. A million questions popped into my head of who he was. He held the book high like I was. It was “On the Road” Jack Kerouac. I was immediately interested. If no other book sparked my imagination for getting out and seeing the world. It was that one. It had everything I wanted to be. I longed to experience those very same experiences. It was perfect that he was reading it. Then he did something that I did not expect. While all my attention was focused on the cover of the book he peered directly at me. My gaze went from the cover of the book to his eyes. They were green. I quickly averted my eyes. I felt nervous. He had seen me looking right at him and all sense of playing coy went right out of the room. I raised my book higher over my face. I pretended to read. Suddenly we were playing a silly game of peek-a-boo with our books. I finally laughed out loud.
“Shhh…” the librarian said from somewhere in the room.
We both giggled about being busted. Then he got up from his chair and sat next to me. I stared at him. He winked. What was going on? I felt like this was a cheesy James Dean character in Rebel Without a Cause. He just had that air about him. Like he had lived, or like he had seen some stuff.
He pulled out a notebook and wrote down, “Hi.”
I laughed and once again the librarian motioned for us to be quiet.
I grabbed his pen and wrote, “Hi my name is Brittany. You?”
He grabbed the pen and wrote, “Johnny.”
He looked at me and jerked his head to the side motioning for me to follow him outside. A rush of danger and excitement rushed through me, but I followed anyway. I was after all my father’s daughter and growing up in a motorcycle gang made me attracted to danger.
We walked out of the library and to the side of the building.
“So tell me sugar plum what are you doing here?”
“I’m just hanging out. I’m home from college for summer vacation. What about you?”
“I stopped going to school. I stopped conforming to that environment. I am a free man.”
“You dropped out?” I asked.
“Yeah I did,” he casually leaned against the wall.
“So what do you do then?” “I see the world. I’m on the road.”
“So you just left one day? Just got up and left from home?” I asked.
“Exactly the way it sounds. I got up and I packed a few things, hopped on my bike, and left. Then I never went back. That’s all it is. It sounds tough but it’s really just one day at a time. That’s all. I go where I want to go. I see all the things I’ve longed to see. Why should we wait to do that? I have a good head on my shoulders. I make good decisions. I’m in charge of my own life.”
“And your family?” I asked.
“I found a new family here. They’re all the family I need. They take care of me. I take care of them.
I took a place leaning against the wall next to him. I had heard that sentence before. It was what everyone in the road warriors gang said. I just kept my mouth shut.
“So you’re in college?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“School feels wrong to me. I can’t explain it. I understand the point in learning information but all the crap that comes with it of being in a school social circle and the teachers just throw worksheets at us and that’s it. They’re not actually teaching us anything. I mean, it’s just a lot of things.”
“You’re tired of it?” he asked.
“I am,” I sighed. I truly was.
“Then come with me.”
“What?”
“Come with me. Be my old lady and let’s take on the world together.”
I laughed, “I can’t do that. I mean not really. I don’t even know you. How would we eat? Where would we stay? I don’t want to be a street rat fighting for food and struggling.”
He looked at me and laughed. He
took off his backpack and unzipped it. He held it open and motioned to me, “Look.”
I peeked in. There were stacks and stacks of cash. My mouth dropped open. I had never seen so much money in my life!
“How did you get that? Where did that come from?” I was so confused. “Did you steal it?”
“My parents would never miss it. There’s a lot more where that came from? But you see, we wouldn’t be living like street rats.”
“You’re serious about this aren’t you?” I looked at him with a slight smile. I was tempted to take him up on his offer. Suddenly being whisked off by this gorgeous guy with loads of money and the open road seemed like a good idea. I knew I shouldn’t do it. It would be wrong.
“Yes. I am,” he smiled. “You don’t have to answer me now though. Just sleep on it. For now, how about I buy you lunch?”
“Okay, lunch is good.”
We walked to the greasy diner at the edge of town. Sitting in a red leather booth we ordered cherry cokes and cheeseburgers. We shared a large order of crispy fries and then shared an apple pie. It was perfect. He told me about his rich parents and being raised by a number of nannies. He had been in and out of boarding schools and his parents were rarely in the country for months at a time. I loved listening to him. It was like listening to a story about another world. It was exotic to me.
“So want to go for ride? I have a motorcycle,” he said.
I laughed at him trying to impress me with a bike. Clearly, he didn’t know my true background and I wasn’t about to tell him. It was more fun to play along.
“Oh, a motorcycle! Isn’t that very dangerous?” I said in my most damsel in distress voice.
He straightened himself and stood up a little straighter and with pride said, “Yeah it is but I handle my baby pretty good.”
“Where would we go?” I asked in a sexy low lusty voice.
He looked at me with an arrogant cocky grin and said, “We could go to my pad. If you want.”
I hesitated letting him sweat it out and then finally said, “Yeah okay.”
Minutes later I was sitting on the back of his motorcycle straddling him. I forgot how much I loved the feel of the open road on my face. It was exhilarating and I was turned on in no time flat. Johnny showed off going fast and making dangerous maneuvers around curves, but I just held on tight and enjoyed it. I had a lot of fun.
We arrived on the outside of town to a greenhouse like building. It was a perfect mix of a place that showed this guy was game to crash anywhere but also had money. Though the building was run down, inside were fine furnishings. It was very confusing and I could see that Johnny was different than your usual motorcycle bad boy. He was well read, educated, and had money. Yet there was one more thing he was hiding, a creative talent. He was a painter. There were spindly trees and English ivy all around. The furniture was of white iron that made leafy patterns and scrolls. The large candelabras were tall with white candles in place with wax that hung off them like tattered cloth. The rugs on the ground were a rich maroon color and a table was set up with paints and canvases.
“Can I paint you?” he asked.
“What?” I said shocked. I was not expecting that at all.
“Yes,” I said blushing as I realized I had been caught staring at him with admiration. He smiled at me as he made it a point to look down at his trousers where I had been staring. I looked away pretending to be interested in the room.
“There is a screen there with a dress behind it if you will change, please.”
“Change?” I said.
“Yes, certainly I can not paint you in what you’re wearing. It would not fit the scene.”
“Yes, of course,” I said feeling silly.
I walked around to the white screen and moved behind it. There was a rich maroon velvet dress with white pearls sewn into the fabric. It was very elegant and rich. It was beautiful.
“Do you need help?” he yelled.
“No! No, I got it,” I yelled back frantically. I heard him chuckle at my nervousness. I quickly fumbled with my clothes and then slipped on the maroon one. However, it buttoned up the back and not the front. I had no choice but to ask for help. I pulled the dress up my body as tight as I could and held it against me. I stepped out from behind the screen.
“I do need help after all. The buttons are on the back, I can not reach them.”
He smiled and walked over to me. I looked up at him from under my dark lashes and pleaded with my eyes for him to touch me. He moved behind me slowly and then grabbed the dress. He slowly buttoned with his fingers trailing up my skin as he did. They were warm and I gasped at his first touch. He slid them purposefully touching the bare skin of my back with much liberty. I sighed and let out a moan. He stopped and then buttoned the rest of the buttons quickly. I felt offended.
“Done,” he said as he walked away. I turned to him with a flushed face, which he must have noticed. He smirked that arrogant grin that I had so become fond of, “Please will you sit on the chaise,” he motioned.
I sat down. He moved over me hovering just above me staring down at me. My breathing was faster and faster. He was staring at me so intently. Being a model was not going to be easy work, I realized, as I would have him intensely looking at me. How would I hide my lust for him? He reached down and grabbed the hair clip in my hair. I had goose bumps all over my body as he touched me. He was studying me. He shook my long dark hair out and placed it over my shoulders in just the way he wanted it.
“Good, this is good,” he said. “Now lean on your arm this way and bring your legs up here.”
I did as he asked and moved in the way he placed me. He took a few steps back and took it all in. I was trying not to breath fast and remained calm, but it was so hard.
“Perfect, now just stay like that,” he said as he moved to his easel and canvas and began to sketch me in pencil on the canvas.
Now I relaxed a little. He was occupied and I was just the model. He was far away from me. However he was still staring at me like he was going to eat me. It was very unnerving. This is how we passed the next hour. Us staring at each other and making love with our eyes to the point of building intense lust inside of me. I couldn’t last any longer. I wanted him.
“How is the painting coming along? Can I finally see it?” I asked him.
Johnny stepped back and looked at me. He sighed and said, “Very well,” as he put his brush and palette down and placed his hands on his hips.
“Now?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.”
I stood up and hesitantly walked over to him. He watched me closely as the maroon velvet dress rustled with every step. I came around to the front side of the canvas. I stopped and tears filled my eyes at the beauty before me. The unfinished painting was a masterpiece. He had captured my likeness exactly as I was, but more than that. I was glowing and beautiful in it. This was how he saw me.
“It’s beautiful. I am breathless,” I said in a whisper.
“You truly like it?” he asked moving closer to me.
“It is a masterpiece,” I said moving closer to it.
He came up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear, “I want to fuck you Brittany. I can not take it anymore.”
His words caressed over me like honey. I moaned and moved my head to the side to allow him to kiss my neck more. Then he attacked the buttons on the dress down my back with fervor. In minutes he slipped it down my shoulders and down to the floor. I stood topless with my petticoat at my waist. He turned me to him and kissed me. His full lips pressed hard and aggressive against me. I kissed him back. I finally allowed myself to touch him. I ran my fingers through his thick curly hair and pulled on it. I had longed for this. I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and tore it off of him and ran my hands down his strong bare chest with the soft black curls that covered it.
“Brittany,” he said.
“Take me Johnny. I want you inside of me.”
&n
bsp; With that he picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me to the chaise lounge and laid me down upon it. He stripped me of the under skirt and then he pulled off his jeans. I gasped at the sight of him naked. I had never seen a man naked before. His cock was thick and long and perfectly pink. His thighs were strong and muscular and his stomach was rippled with muscles. He hovered over me and placed his cock inside of me and then with one thrust pushed it in. I felt my maidenhood give way and I clawed at his back.
“Are you alright Brittany?” he whispered.
“Yes, please don’t stop.”
He covered my mouth with his and pushed again inside of me. Back and forth he moved his cock in and out of me. I didn’t know the sensations could feel this way. I felt something inside of me building up but I did not know what it was. Johnny moved his mouth down my neck and onto my breasts. He licked at sucked at my rosy nipples until they were erect and taught. He moaned as his hands moved down the sides of my body. Each movement he pushed himself in me with his hips between my thighs. My back arched up in reaction to it and his arm encircled it, holding me up. I was on the brink. I could feel it welling up inside of me. Then my body tensed and relaxed as I released into pleasure that I was not expecting. I didn’t know it existed. Tiny pulsations ran through me and I felt on the verge of fainting. Johnny looked down at me from his hovering height above me. His dark tendrils of hair hung over his face and moved back and forth with his thrusting movement. It was a sight I wanted to burn into my memory. He was the sexiest man I had ever seen in my life. His grunting grew louder as he tensed and he held onto me tighter. The chaise lounge moved an inch with each thrust as he moved more aggressively and harder. Then he let out a loud moan and I felt the warm fluid fill me as he released himself. He kissed me and then rested his head in my neck. I wrapped my arms around him. I never wanted to let go of this genius. He was the most romantic motorcycle babe I had ever met. He had a hold over me. He looked at me and asked, “Are you alright sweet?”
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