Protecting Her: A Romance Bundle

by Mia Ford

  “Hey there,” she said, grabbing me by the shirt and yanking me forward. “I was looking for you.”

  “Oh, yeah? What for?”

  She bit her lip and looked up at me with her dark brown eyes. I chuckled at her lack of subtlety and looked around quickly as she reached down and cupped my balls. I pressed my hand to the wall behind her head and leaned in, dipping my tongue between her soft, poised lips.

  “Where are we going this time?”

  She giggled and grabbed me by the collar, pulling me into an old stock room in the back. It was obvious no one ever came into this place, and it was the perfect scenery for our normal debauchery. She clicked the lock closed and turned to me with trouble written on her face. She grinned, biting her lower lip and pulling her shirt over her head. I put my hands up chuckling at how forward she always was. She reached back and undid her bra, letting her big, round tits bounce all over the place. She pulled my shirt from my pants and dropped down on her knees, unbuckling them and yanking them down to my ankles. I leaned back against the dusty pillar and put my arms over my head, waiting for her lips. She pulled my boxers down and grabbed my shaft as it bounced free from the fabric. This girl had me going before she ever took her shirt off, but then again, I knew what she could do with those lips and those hips.

  She wasted no time going straight to work, gliding her mouth over the tip of my cock and down my hard shaft. I groaned at the feeling of her tongue whipping wildly around my erection and looked down at her bright red hair as it bobbed back and forth. She slowly reached up and massaged my balls while sliding her head all the way down, taking the entirety of my cock into her throat. She pressed down hard, her lips touching the base, and I could feel her sucking at the back of her throat. She was so fucking hot, and to make it even hotter, she had a tongue piercing, leftover fashion from ten years ago. The soft gel ball rolled along my shaft and pressed right underneath the head of my cock, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I groaned as my hips moved forward, meeting her mouth and then pulling back. I grabbed onto her red hair and shoved her down, watching a smile curl at the edge of her lips. Her eyes gazed up at me, watering and wild as I continued to push my hips toward her face, fucking her mouth hard. She reached her hands up and groped her breasts, bouncing them up and down as I pleasured myself with her mouth. She spread her legs apart and reached up under her skirt, rubbing her clit, rolling her eyes, and moaning with my cock in her mouth. I could feel the vibrations of her voice against my shaft, and immediately, all I wanted to do was fuck the hell out of her.

  My eyes moved around the dusty old room looking for a good place to bend her over. Finally, my eyes came to rest on an old oak desk in the corner. I smiled lecherously as I pulled her head back and off my cock. I motioned to the desk and she laughed, not seeing me reach down and grab her by the waist. I pulled her to her feet and turned her around, shoving her toward the desk. I pushed her down over top and flipped up her skirt, happy to find she wasn’t wearing any panties. She looked back and giggled as I shoved three fingers into her pussy and leaned forward over top of her. I moved them in and out fast and watched as she groaned loudly.

  “I’m going to fuck the hell out of you,” I whispered into her ear.

  “What the fuck are you waiting for?” she moaned.

  I smiled, pulling my fingers out of her and grabbing a condom out of my back pocket of my pants. I ripped it open and threw the package to the side, pulling the condom down over my cock. It twitched and pulsated, waiting for her soft, wet pussy. I grabbed her by the hips and slowly slid my shaft through her juices. She reached forward and grabbed the edge of the desk, spreading her feet apart and bracing herself. I teased her at first, going slowly in and out, feeling every ripple of her wet, soaking pussy. She groaned and pushed her hips back, reaching for more.

  “Harder,” she pleaded.

  I widened my stance and grabbed her by the hips, the anger from my brother earlier still surging through my chest. Instantly, I thrust forward as hard as I could, driving my cock deep inside of her. She screamed out, lifting her hand to her mouth to stifle the sounds from the bar outside the door. I closed my eyes and started to pound her deep and fast, feeling her tight ass in my hands. I slapped her cheek and listened as she moaned over and over to the rhythm of my thrusts. Her pussy grew wetter and wetter, and I knew she wasn’t far from coming all over me. I leaned forward and pushed my hips short and fast into her pussy, wrapping my arm around her waist and giving it to her real good. As my thrusts shortened but grew in intensity, I could feel her body lurch, and she screamed out, throwing her head back, reaching her peak. Her warm juices flowed steadily over my shaft, and I stood up, took hold and fucked her as hard and fast as I could until I felt my raging cock grow even larger. I leaned over and grabbed the other side of the desk and pushed up on my toes, lunging deep inside of her. I took in a deep breath and let my cock explode, ripples of pleasure surging through my entire body.

  As my orgasm began to recede and my hips stilled from the movement, I could hear her giggling under her breath. I pulled out and slapped her ass, smiling as she turned around. She leaned back on the desk and crossed her legs.

  “What got into you?”

  “Just a little family quarrel,” I said, zipping my pants.

  Chapter Two

  Tiffany

  Three months, that’s how long my marriage managed to last. Every other couple in the world was still having sex three times a day, snuggling in the honeymoon period of their relationship. But me? I was sitting in a meeting room at the courthouse, waiting to finalize my divorce. I still couldn’t wrap my hands around how I got here. A couple years ago, I was beaming, being hired by the hottest media company in the world, working my way up quickly to supervisor of the management department, and falling in love with Jordan Banks, the most eligible bachelor in New York. It was like my life had turned into a fairytale, something definitely different from my life growing up. I was born and raised in New York, but my parents had been junkies, and they did nothing but steal to get high and leave me and my brother to fend for ourselves. My brother pushed me to be better than that, showed me every single negative thing about their lifestyle, and made sure I got good grades in high school. When I graduated second in my class, I was offered a full ride to NYU, and though I wanted to get away from the city and all its bad memories, I couldn’t afford not to go to NYU. So, I stayed, working through college so I didn’t have to live with my parents. My brother joined the Army and shipped off immediately, after making sure I was safe and secure.

  After that, it was like one amazing thing after the other. I kicked ass in school, I had amazing friends, I was offered the internship that would eventually turn into the career at Banks, and I, in my Senior year, met Jordan. He was so sweet and loving and was absolutely gorgeous on top of it. He had told me he had a crush on me since Freshman year, and I couldn’t believe the son and heir of Banks Media Corp wanted me to be his girlfriend. Of course, I jumped at the chance, what girl wouldn’t? After a few months, I realized I had fallen in love with him. His ambition and charm were intoxicating, and his family was amazing. His parents, Lily and John, took me into the family immediately, and for the first time in my life, I got to experience what a real family was like. We had Thanksgiving dinners, weekends at their estate, Christmas morning presents, and everything else. In a way, I didn’t just fall in love with Jordan, I fell in love with his entire life. That made all of this so much more difficult. Not only was I mourning the end of my marriage, but I was also mourning the loss of an entire family as well, all because of something I couldn’t help.

  I guess I should have seen the signs when a month into our marriage, Jordan was hounding me about getting pregnant, but in my love haze, I just thought it was him wanting a family with me. So, I agreed and set an appointment to have a full work up done at the doctors to make sure I was physically ready to carry a child. I remember not feeling nervous at all as the doctor came back into the room, a somber l
ook on her face. She showed me pictures, spouted off numbers, gave me possible treatments, but in the end, all I could hear were my dreams of a family slipping down the drain. Apparently, I had some rare condition that made getting pregnant almost impossible. Everything stopped dead in its tracks, and I rode back to our home in silence, just wanting Jordan’s arms wrapped around me. Little did I know, that would not be his reaction. Instead, he lashed out, screaming that I had tricked him into a childless marriage, that I couldn’t give him what he wanted, that I was a failure and less of a woman.

  He moved out that night, packing up to stay at his apartment in the city. I sat quietly in shock in my living room, watching the flames of the fire trickle down to nothing, just like our relationship had done in the blink of an eye. The next week was like a dream, where I was floating in and out of emotional states, trying to get a handle on my life. Just two days after that, I received the divorce papers, which were embarrassingly delivered to my office instead of our home. I signed for the papers, looking up to see Jordan scowling at me from the corner. Since then, it’s been nothing but hell, and though I was completely heartbroken that the man I loved ditched me over something I couldn’t control, I just really wanted everything to be over. I looked up at the clock and sighed. Jordan was late as usual. The silence in the room was deafening, and his lawyer looked up at me with a half-smile. I focused on keeping it together, not breaking down, and not letting him see any more tears from me. He didn’t deserve to bask in my pain, and I realized I didn’t even recognize the man who wanted to end our marriage. I wanted to go home and be alone, where I could start to reassemble my life and get back to normal, whatever that was.

  The sound of the clock ticking on the wall was echoing through my brain. Where the hell was he? He was the one who wanted this divorce in the first place. Why he couldn’t be here on time was beyond me. Technically, he wanted an annulment, and I wasn’t sure what the difference was. It didn’t matter to me what the title was. All it boiled down to was that I wasn’t the girl he wanted because I couldn’t give him children. I felt like the King’s wife, having been found sterile, banished to the towers to live her life out in shame.

  “We’ve waited long enough,” my attorney said. “I think we should just go ahead and move forward.”

  “Agreed,” the other attorney replied.

  Just then, the door opened and in sauntered Jordan, no hurry or worry on his face at all. I shook my head at his arrogance and placed my hands in my lap. I didn’t want to even look at him, and I realized quickly how anger toward him had turned him completely undesirable to me. Besides, I knew he wasn’t out there mourning the loss of his marriage. He was a playboy through and through, and he had probably started sleeping around before I even got the papers. I grimaced at the thought of being married to a man like that.

  “Sorry I was late,” he said arrogantly. “I had a meeting.”

  “A meeting you didn’t need to go to,” I replied. He had forgotten I was the supervisor of his floor.

  I kept my eyes glued on the table in front of me, not wanting to look at him for even a second. I could feel his eyes darting back and forth across the room as he, too, tried to avoid all eye contact with me. It was horribly awkward and painful to sit through, especially when, three months before, we were gazing into each other’s eyes and committing our lives to one another. I shook my head, thinking about our wedding day, wondering what had happened to make the sweet and kind man I had married turn into an obnoxious primidone with no heart. Then again, maybe it was all for show. Maybe he was never that kind loving man I thought I knew, and after getting married, he realized it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I had heard stories about Jordan before we started dating, but his personality and those stories never seemed to match up. I shrugged them off as nothing more than gossip or jealousy. Now, though, looking back and comparing the stories to this stranger sitting across from me, it all made perfect sense. He was a coward, and I couldn’t believe I’d fallen so hard for his ridiculous lies. There was no way you could love someone the way he said he loved me and then dump them on their ass the next day as if they never meant anything to you. It was cruel and harsh, and I was tired of being treated with no respect.

  “Alright,” his lawyer began. “Both parties have agreed this marriage has reached its finality. In regard to their personal belongings, seeing as the couple was married three months prior, they have agreed to the following terms: The house in the Greek District, purchased by Ms. Wells prior to their marriage, will stay in her possession, including all items minus Mr. Bank’s personal effects. The apartment in Manhattan, purchased by Mr. Banks prior to marriage, will stay in his possession, including all items minus Ms. Well’s personal effects. Each will continue to possess their personal vehicles purchased before the marriage. In regard to the joint bank account started two and half months ago, Mr. Bank’s has relinquished all rights, and the money has been signed over in the form of a cashier’s check to Ms. Wells.”

  The attorney slid an envelope across the table, and I put my hand over it, shutting my eyes, and trying to remind myself to keep it together. I bet giving me that bank account made him feel good, like he had done the right thing. All twenty-two thousand dollars of it, a price he found fair for putting me through so much grief and agony. I didn’t want the damn money that had been put in there to start a fund for our child’s education, the child we would never have. It was almost like he was taking a jab at me for not being able to have children. I grasped my hand around the envelope and slid it into my purse.

  “If all parties are in agreeance,” the attorney continued. “Ms. Wells, you need to initial in these three spots and sign at the bottom. Mr. Banks, you will do the same.”

  I clutched the pen tightly as I scribbled my name through the legal document. As he pulled the papers toward him, I could hear the tip of the pen scratch across the paper. With every curve of his name, my heart sunk lower and lower, until the tears were burning at the corners of my eyes.

  “Well, if that is all,” my attorney said.

  “That was easy,” Jordan said in a jovial tone.

  I slammed my hands on the desk and shoved the chair back behind me, looking up and staring deeply into his eyes. He looked taken back, almost scared for a moment, but he wasn’t worth the extra breath to explain what he’d done to me. I turned and walked from the room before he could even stand. I sped through the courthouse, tears beginning to blind me as I pushed out onto the sidewalk and jogged toward the garage where my car was parked. Fumbling with my keys, I dropped them twice before finally getting the car open. As soon as the door slammed shut, I grabbed the steering wheel and let my resolve release. Tears dampened my face as the pain in my chest plummeted to my belly. That was it, the love I thought I had for a lifetime was gone with the stroke of a pen.

  Chapter Three

  Jason

  The day was moving by at a glacial pace, and for some reason, I couldn’t get my brother’s divorce from Tiffany off my mind. Everything had gone down the day before, and I had made sure to steer clear of the family dinner. I knew if I heard him gloating about his divorce, or celebrating in any way, I might not be able to keep myself from jumping over the table and hitting him in the head with one of mother’s silver platters. Instead, I propped my feet up on the couch and watched television until it was time for bed, something I didn’t do very often. Laying there, my mind had wandered all over the place, trying to imagine what Tiffany was doing. I knew she was struggling. I mean, how could she not be? She had been blindsided by her husband during a time in her life when she’d needed him the most, and then, he’d cast her aside, leaving her to clean up the mess. I shook my head as I stared at my computer screen, trying to wrap my head around the fact that she was done so dirty and done so by my own blood. It was almost embarrassing to think Jordan and I were related.

  Growing up, we’d gotten along well enough, both knowing our lives were pretty much mapped out for us. In college, I distinctl
y remembered Jordan pulling me to the side and pointing Tiffany out to me. She was just as beautiful then as she was now, if not more. Her long blond hair would blow in the wind whipping across the campus courtyard, and her smile lit up my world. Apparently, it lit up Jordan’s too because from then on, he was determined to get this girl. When our father announced the new pool of employees for the company, I thought my brother’s head was going to pop off. Tiffany was strong, assertive, and just the woman this company needed to propel us forward. She had worked her way up quickly, and though the whispers said it was because of her relationship with Jordan, those of us who knew her understood it was because of the type of woman she was. My brother had started to change, calming down a bit, staying away from the bars and clubs, and devoting his time to her. I thought about how lucky everyone was that Tiffany had come into our lives, especially since she had a way with Jordan that no one else did. Part of me couldn’t help but think this was all more because he wanted to be single than it was over a family, but either way, he had used that as his cause. It had hit home hard.

  I could hear Jordan out in the hallway flirting with the new secretary and for some reason, it fucking pissed me off. I scooted back from the desk and stood in the doorway staring at him as he leaned over her, showing her something in the paperwork on her desk. I strolled over to the desk and tapped on the wood, drawing both of their attention.

  “You seem pretty happy,” I said looking him in the eyes. “I thought since you just got divorced yesterday, you might be in a bad mood, or sad, or any of those human emotions we tend to have.”