Tempting the Biker: (A Love Struck Bad Boys Romance)
Page 1
Tempting the Biker
By Amber Burns
A Love Struck Bad Boys Romance
Copyright © 2016 by Amber Burns
& Scarlet Lantern Publishing
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language.
All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
More Erotic Romance from Amber Burns
The following short story is full of romance, sex and sensuality. See the preview below for a bit of foreplay.
“It did go well didn’t it, and do you know what a successful evening does to me?” He growled in her neck.
She giggled and shook her head.
“No, what does it do to you?” She breathed through her laughter.
He pressed himself into her so that she could feel his erection against her. Brittany reached down to stroke him through his Chino’s and watched his eyes close from the sensation. She took his one hand in hers and guided it under her skirt.
“Feel, guess what I didn’t wear under my dress…” her voice trailed off as his fingers found her.
Chris groaned, “God woman, we are in your parent’s back yard, what are you doing?”
He kissed her ferociously and bit her bottom lip. She turned her head and offered him her neck, where he trailed little bites all the way to her exposed collarbone. He reached down to unzip his pants, and roughly lifted her dress, held her one leg up, and pushed into her.
“Oh yes, please,” she breathed loudly into his ear, her arms going around his neck as he held her back firmly to the wall.
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Chapter 1
Brittany tucked a strand of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and exhaled loudly. She sat at her desk and wheeled the chair back to look through the window of her bedroom at the sunny weather outside. The green lawn beckoned, as did the crystal blue pool, yet Brittany needed to have her nose stuck in her law books. She was in her second year of studies at Columbia and Friday was quiz day.
She looked at her watch, four-forty-five. She’d been at it since getting home from lectures just after two, and hadn’t yet taken a break. She moved forward to lean on her elbows again and started reading.
The next thing she knew, Brittany was startled awake by the voice of her mother and a gentle hand on her shoulder almost two hours later.
“Honey, Brit, you fell asleep at your desk.”
Her mother, Ann, stood back as Brittany straightened and stretched.
“Oh, thank you for waking me mom, what time is it?” She yawned.
“It’s six thirty darling, I came to check on you, and call you for dinner when you didn’t come down.”
She stood and walked into her private bathroom to rinse her face, looking up into the mirror after toweling her skin dry. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked exhausted, with bloodshot irises.
“Curse this studying.” She muttered as she left her bedroom, climbing down the stairs to join her parents for dinner.
Brittany’s father was a lawyer at one of the most prestigious firms in New York, and it was to make him proud that she had gotten into Law School at Columbia. Her mother on the other hand was the perfect wife, a stay at home mother who supported her husband, baked, cooked and encouraged her daughter to strive for her dreams.
Their table was set with her famous meatballs, mashed potatoes, perfectly steamed green beans and gravy.
“Daddy, would it be okay if I went to a movie with a few friends on Saturday afternoon?” Brittany asked, making big eyes at him.
She knew she didn’t have to technically ask, she was an adult after all. However she was also perfectly aware that he was wrapped around her little finger.
“Of course it’s okay baby girl, as long as you don’t have any big exams or important school stuff coming up?” He said around his mouthful of food, an eyebrow raised at her in question.
Brittany shook her head, curls bouncing, “Nothing big anytime soon daddy, promise.” She simpered, sweet as syrup.
******************************
Chris crossed his bare feet as he stepped in a semi-circle around his opponent, blocked the testing swipe he threw from the left on his forearm, and struck out with a lightning-fast right fist. He was training bare-fisted with his friend Alan today, whom he had been at the same Mixed Martial Arts gym with for three years now. Alan opened up a space between them, and Chris instinctively saw his next move. He shot forward and placed a kick in Alan’s ribs that left the man doubled over and gasping for breath.
“Time,” He croaked, and held his hands up in a ‘T’ symbol before grabbing his side again and straightening up. “Jesus Baxter, are you trying to kill me?” He heaved.
Chris skipped lightly from foot to foot.
“You were about to pull that exact move on me you bastard, I saw it.” He shook his arms, they’d been on the mat for two hours, and sweat coated him from his drenched hair to the waistband of his gym shorts. “Let’s call it a day, I’m buggered. Drinks after?”
Alan nodded, and they both headed to the showers, untying the wraps on their wrists as they walked.
Later that evening the guys sat at their local bar with a cold beer, each nursing their own individual aches and pains from the afternoon’s workout.
“So what are your plans for the weekend?” Alan said, taking a pull on his bottle, flinching when he raised his arm.
Chris shrugged, “I’ll be at The Grudge tomorrow and Saturday afternoon and evening to keep an eye while it’s busy, I don’t trust my new manager entirely yet, other than that, no plans, you?”
Alan shook his head, “I haven’t made any, I’ll pop around for a burger on Saturday,” he grinned, “Your place has the best damned burgers in New York.”
Chris owned a restaurant and bar in SoHo called ‘The Grudge’ that turned into a bit of a local hotspot after eleven on the weekends; frequented by the local college kids especially. During the week he had the lunch crowds to keep him going, but it was the weekend drinkers that made things really lucrative. He stood and slapped Alan on the shoulder, making sure to get the bruise side.
“Cheers mate, I’ll see you Saturday then,” he said grinning at Alan’s over the top flinching and groaning, and left the bar.
Outside he slipped on his leather jacket, picked the helmet up of his Ducati and pulled it onto his head snugly. A smile played across his face, this, his bike was his pleasure. It was for no-one but him, and as he leaned forward, turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine, a shiver ran through him. It was an almost sexual pleasure. He sped through the streets to his apartment, pulling into the underground parking at his Manhattan block only fifteen minutes later. He rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor and slid the trellis-gate open smoothly. He stepped onto his floor with a sigh of content, his sanctuary, home.
Unlocking h
is apartment, he dropped the jacket, switched on the lights, bare bulbs hanging on long cords throughout the industrial space, and walked over to his large fridge. He stood in front of it and picked up a beer, then took out all the goods to cook a steak and make salad. It was eight at night, but he hardly slept before twelve anyway, and the hard training made him hungry.
“So… food time.”
Chapter 2
With a final flourish, Brittany applied her lip gloss and checked her reflection in the mirror.
“I always look like damn cotton-candy next to Rachel and Mandy. Hell,” she muttered to herself, adding some mascara.
She wore fitted dark jeans and a pink strappy vest, with a light cardigan over the top. Her cleavage was not so noticeable as to alarm her parents; she had to be careful. She pulled her hair into a ponytail high on her head and let the waves fall loosely around her face.
“That’s as good as it’s going to get,” she shrugged.
Brittany skipped from her room, down the stairs. She grabbed her purse and kissed her dad’s cheek.
“Bye daddy, see you later, I have my cellular on me.” She hugged her mom, “Bye mom,” she called out behind her as she ran for the door before either of them could comment or say a word.
In her car she dialed Rachel and gave her an arrival time of about thirty minutes, agreeing to meet at the movies in SoHo.
“Oh Brit, there’s this really cool place I heard about where we can go for dinner after, it’s called ‘The Grudge’. How cool is that?” Her friend squeaked over the in-car Bluetooth.
Brittany frowned.
“Seriously? I can’t be home too late, I have a curfew,” She said, her voice serious.
“A curfew? You’re an adult!” Rachel chastised. “Yes… yes… I know, you’re always so perfect and well behaved!”
Brittany hung up when Rachel laughed raucously on the line.
The Grudge was buzzing by the time the girls walked in after their movie on Saturday, all three excited to see the place and on a high because it was a Saturday evening in New York.
“Why don’t you call your parents and tell them you’re staying at my place tonight?” Rachel shouted in Brittany’s ear over the thumping music.
Brittany frowned, “I can’t, my dad would never let me!” She shook her head.
Rachel persisted though, and eventually they walked out to where it was a bit quieter, and she dialed her father.
“Daddy, hi, I’m sorry to trouble. Yes everything is okay, I’m fine.” She pulled a face at Rachel. “I just wanted to ask if I could spend the night at Rachel’s, she lives much closer to SoHo, and we have decided to come out and have a bite to eat.” She made a face again. “Daddy you know I don’t drink.” She frowned at Rachel, covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “He wants to speak to you.”
Rachel paled, but took the phone, “Good evening Mr. McAndrews, I live two blocks from where we are now, and we actually parked at my place to walk here because our cars are safer.” She stuck her tongue out at Brittany and batted her eyelashes, her voice milk and honey, “I promise I will take the best care of her, and even feed her breakfast before she comes home tomorrow. Thank you Sir, Have a lovely night too. I’ll tell her.” She hung up and handed the phone back to Brittany.
“He says have fun, be good, or you’re dead. Oh, and so am I.” She put on a mock-terrified expression, and dragged the other girls back inside. “Let’s go eat, and let’s go have fun.”
“You lied to him about where you live, your apartment is in Manhattan.” Brittany frowned, and Rachel shrugged.
“But he won’t look into that right now will he?” She smiled as she led Brittany back inside.
Brittany ate her burger with absolute relish, it was the best she had ever had, and in her innocence, she thought of how much her father would like the food. She frowned, daddy’s girl indeed.
Rachel appeared from where she had gone off to the bar, holding three colorful drinks.
“Bottom’s up ladies!” Brittany pushed hers away, “Rachel, I promised my dad I wouldn’t drink.”
“Oh come on, don’t be a sourpuss. We aren’t drinking and driving, and it’s only one cocktail.” She pouted.
Brittany sat on her stool battling an inner conflict. She had never disobeyed her father, but she also desperately wanted to break out of this goody-two-shoes image she held. Getting drunk and endangering herself in public just wasn’t quite how she felt like going about that. She caved though.
“Just the one though okay?”
Chapter 3
It was then that Chris noticed her. He barely ever paid attention to specific girls coming into the bar this early on a Saturday. It was usually too busy, but this one was something else, and he didn’t like upsets in his establishment.
He saw the two friends with her trying to pressure drinks on her, and she valiantly refused at first, but from his point of view she gave in to preserve peace. Her face wrinkled at the apparent taste of alcohol, and he smiled. From his viewpoint, where he sat on his armchair overlooking the main floor of the restaurant, he had a bird’s eye view of what was to him the most beautiful woman in the world; her reddish-blonde hair alone already had him mesmerized, let alone the figure beneath her cardigan and jeans.
The upper-balcony seating area consisted of scattered couches and armchairs, all in shades of dark brown and red, and was a reserved VIP section. He allowed patrons up here only once they’d paid a hefty entrance fee, and hence preserved peace for himself.
He stood when he saw the young girl sway on her feet, and seem to have an argument with her friend, the one who had brought drinks. Chris felt immediately protective, and made his way down the stairs to the main floor, getting to her as she was left alone by her two friends storming off and abandoning her. The tears on her cheeks only served to strengthen his resolve to look after this one. He approached her cautiously, well aware of how it would seem to her, a strange man approaching a vulnerable and very young woman in a bar.
“Excuse me Miss?” He said from next to her, and held up his hands in a gesture of peace when she jumped at his voice. “I’m the owner of this establishment, and I was upstairs when I saw your friends leave without you. I can’t help but note that you are not completely sober, and I’d like you to join me upstairs so I can get you a cup of coffee perhaps?”
She looked from him to the balcony.
“What’s upstairs?” She asked softly, slightly slurring her words.
Chris steadied her by the elbow when she swayed on her feet.
“It’s the VIP seating area, there are couches, armchairs and tables, and a small bar. It’s wide open and safe, I swear it. I have security cameras everywhere.”
Brittany nodded, “Okay, I do need some coffee. I need to think about calling my father too.”
She followed Chris up the narrow stairs, and flopped down into a large cosy chair, her head falling back against the headrest. Chris sat forward, his elbows on his knees, and stared at her.
“What is your name?” He asked.
She slowly opened her eyes and spoke, “I’m sorry, I was rude, my name is Brittany. I never drink, so...” She shrugged, and then covered her eyes with her hands. “I need to figure out what to do. Do I get to Rachel’s house and make peace, do I fetch my car there and go home, or do I find a place to spend the night? My father is going to kill me, Oh God.”
He saw that she was struggling to transition from a daddy’s girl to an adult, but didn’t feel that making an issue of it was worthwhile. As he sat staring at her, her cellular rang, and her distraction gave him time to observe her, the movement of her plump lips, her round angelic face, and the changing expressions on it.
“Rachel, I’m sorry I spoiled your night, I just…” She bit her lip, “Thank you, I don’t know where I am going to stay yet, I’ll try get back to your place if that’s ok, even if just to fetch my car. I’ll catch a cab, it’s number twenty two, eighth avenue?”
She looked up when Ch
ris snapped his fingers in front of her and whispered, “I live in the same apartment building, I’ll give you a ride.”
“Rachel, Chris, the restaurant owner lives in your building, he is going to give me a ride. I’ll see you later. Which floor? I’ll check.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, “Fifteen.” He mouthed.
She told Rachel, and he could hear the intake of breath, followed by the hysterical chatter coming from the phone as Brittany held it away from her face and whispered, “I think she knows you by sight.”