Accidental Fiancé

by R. R. Banks

  I give her nice firm ass a good, hard slap and she squeals in delight – which makes me do it again. She tightens her muscles, squeezing my cock nice and hard and draws a groan from me. She keeps doing that, I'm not going to last all that long.

  Amanda stands up and turns around, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She pushes me back toward the lounge chair on the deck.

  “Lay down,” she says.

  I comply and lay down on my back, stretching out on the chair. “I have to say, I kinda like it when you take the bull by the horns, darlin'.”

  She smiles and straddles me, grabbing my stiff prick in her hand and strokes it. “I kinda like being in charge,” she says. “I may have to do this more often.”

  “I wish you would.”

  She guides my cock to her opening and then slides herself down on it. I throw my head back and moan as she takes me deep inside of her and then starts to rock her hips. Amanda plants her hands on my chest to give herself a little leverage and starts bouncing up and down on my dick.

  I grab her hips and hold on tight to her as she fucks me. She's riding me hard and fast, her eyes rolling back in her head as waves of pleasure come crashing down on her. I thrust my hips up to meet her, sliding myself even deeper into her pussy, and make her cry out.

  Feeling me so deep inside of her, thrusting myself up inside of her as she rides me has Amanda moaning and calling my name. And she fucks me harder, riding my cock like a rodeo champion. Reaching behind her, she gives my balls a firm squeeze and tightens up her muscles at the same time. The combined sensation pulls a stuttering gasp from my throat and I nearly come on the spot.

  As it is, the pressure is building up within me and as Amanda keeps fucking me as hard and fast as she is, I'm not going to last much longer anyway.

  Reaching up, I give both of her hard nipples a tweak, making her cry out again as she keeps fucking me. Like a wave approaching the shoreline, I feel it coming.

  “Oh God, Amanda –”

  I don't even get the words out before my cock starts pulsing. I throw my head back and grunt as I blow my load deep inside of her. She digs her fingernails into my chest as she cries out, her body trembling as she's overtaken by another orgasm, relishing the sensation of my warm, wet seed shooting deep inside of her.

  Eventually, our orgasms fade and she collapses on top of me. I kiss her softly on the forehead and we lay there, on the lounge chair, our naked bodies intertwined.

  “I love you, Amanda.”

  “And I love you too, Brady.”

  As the sun disappears below the horizon, ending another day in this beautiful paradise, we fall asleep together to the sound of the waves.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  “Thank you all for coming today,” I say into the microphone.

  I nervously stand at a lectern in the large, crowded room. Behind me is a screen that bears the logo of Keating Technologies as well as the San Antonio Copperheads. Now that I was back from my honeymoon and all of the appropriate paperwork had been filed, I was ready to take my rightful place as the head of the Keating Technologies empire.

  In the room is a herd of reporters, but also a big crowd of KT employees. This is the day I introduce myself to my new employees and to the world. It is also the day I am going to unveil the newest project I'm tasking the engineers at KT with – a design concept that I'm passionate about and want to make a reality.

  The room quiets down and all eyes turn to me. There's a slight flutter in my stomach and as I look to my beautiful wife seated at the table to my right, next to Kendrick and Thomas, I feel some of my courage returning.

  She's my rock. My strength. My everything.

  “For those of you who don't know me, my name is Brady Keating,” I say. “Today is the day I assume control of the empire my father built. And today is the day I begin to forge my own legacy.”

  There is a mild round of applause and I take a drink of water.

  “Although I will be the incoming CEO of Keating Technologies,” I say, “I've asked Thomas Newhouse to stay on as the President of R&D and Operations. I think he's done an outstanding job in his capacity as the acting CEO and I want to make sure his brilliance is put to good use. Plus, having somebody as smart as him standing by my side can only make me look better.”

  There is laughter and applause from the crowd as I look over at Thomas. A humble man, he seems to blush as he's recognized by KT's employees. Amanda is close enough that she reaches out and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. I give her a smile and adjust the hat on my head as the crowd settles down again.

  “There are also some changes coming to the Copperheads organization,” I say. “Earlier today, I relieved Rick Dempsey of his duties. I appreciate his service to the franchise these last few seasons and wish him the best moving forward.

  I will be stepping into the role of team president, and until a suitable replacement is found, I will also be the acting General Manager. I promise you, we will bring that winning tradition back to Copperhead football.”

  This is met with wild applause and cheers. What can I say? Texans love their football.

  “Change is coming to Keating Technologies as well as to Copperheads football, but I can promise you that it will be change for the better,” I say. “If there's one thing my parents taught me, it's the value of family. And you folks sitting out there – you're family. Keating Tech would be absolutely nothing without each and every one of you.

  I know it's become something of an empty platitude among many companies today, but I can assure you that it's absolutely true. It's a point that Thomas helped underscore for me some months back when he had me tour the main offices with him. I got a chance to meet and talk with many of you – though, I will make the effort to meet everybody. But hearing your stories, hearing how you feel about working for KT and being part of our family – it inspired me. Made me want to be a better leader and a better person for all of you.”

  More cheers and applause and as I looked out at the crowd, I saw many of them giving me wide smiles and thumbs up signs. I'd never felt like more of a rock star than I did in that moment.

  “And lastly, while I have a minute – and a captive audience – I'd also like to acknowledge somebody special and important to me,” I say, looking at Amanda. I see the color flare in her cheeks and she quickly looks away. “Without her – I don't even know what I would do. She challenges me daily. Pushes me to excel and makes me want to be a better man. A better father. My life is better in a million different ways thanks to her. And I'm so grateful to call her my own.”

  The room absolutely erupts in cheers and applause. I lean down and give her a quick, chaste kiss. Her face is nearly scarlet and she refuses to meet my eyes. Her embarrassment is absolutely adorable. A moment later though, I hold my hand up to quiet the crowd.

  “My wife encourages me to pursue my passion and do those things that bring me joy,” I say. “And so, it's with that in mind that I am very happy to unveil the latest project I am tasking the brilliant minds at KT with – a project I am confident will become a reality.”

  “In combining my love for Keating Tech with my passion for football, it gives me incredible pleasure to announce that Keating Technologies will be partnering with the NFL to design a new helmet and equipment – things that will cut down, and hopefully eliminate – the dangerous effects of CTE and other traumatic brain injuries.”

  The applause is nearly deafening and I can't help but smile. As I look to Kendrick and Thomas – two of the greatest men I've ever known – and then to my wife, before I look out the crowd once more, I reflect on how funny and strange life can be at times – and how quickly everything can change.

  As I hold on to Amanda's hand, I smile wide. Life is good. Life is very, very good. And to think – it all started with a sham wedding and a fake bride.

  Like I said, life is funny and strange sometimes.

  THE END

  Accidentally Married (Samp
le)

  By R.R. Banks

  An Amazon Top 5 Bestseller

  *267 Customer Reviews – 4.8/5 Stars

  “Let’s get married.”

  That was the last thing I had in mind.

  Then I saw Holly, a curvy redhead in a tight green dress.

  I knew she was mine. And I had to claim her.

  I tasted her full lips and devoured every inch of her.

  I woke up with a ring on my finger, but she was gone…

  Our marriage was an accident, but my vows are real.

  Finding her isn’t easy. And I’m not the only one who wants her.

  The cartel thinks they own her, but they have no clue.

  I’m not your ordinary billionaire. I’m f*cking ruthless.

  I’ll protect Holly. And our baby growing inside her.

  Chapter One

  Michael

  The night is dark, cold, and I've got a bad feeling. A really bad feeling. Gabriel Trujillo called me earlier and told me we needed to meet. And when Trujillo calls, you don't say no. You clear your fuckin' schedule and go where he tells you to. It's a lesson I learned the hard way.

  I shudder and pull my coat tighter around me, attempting to ward off the chilly Colorado night. I'm standing in the parking lot of a rest stop on a hill, overlooking the city of Denver. I was born and raised here and I'm probably gonna die here. I just hope that death is still a long time comin' though.

  My cell rings. I pull it out of my pocket and look at the ID. Trujillo.

  “What the fuck?” I mutter to myself.

  With a sigh, I connect the call and stare down at the glitter and sparkle of the lights in the city below me. I'm not an overly sentimental man, but looking down on the city makes me appreciate its beauty.

  “I'm here,” I say irritably. “I've been here for twenty minutes already.”

  “Running late,” Trujillo said, his Mexican accent coloring the words. “I'm a couple of minutes out. Relax, my friend.”

  “Hurry up,” I snap. “It's freezing.”

  I disconnect the call and drop the phone into my pocket. Ordinarily, I'm more deferential to Trujillo. Given who he is and what he does, it only seems prudent, if not wise. I don't know what got into me just now. Talking to him like that is a good way to get my teeth kicked down my throat.

  I guess I'm just cold, tired, and stressed the fuck out.

  Turning back, I stare out at the city again, trying to block out the cold, calm myself down, and not to think about what's about to happen. Truth is, I don't know what that is. Maybe nothing. Trujillo has a flair for the dramatic and might just want to make an impression by meeting me in this secluded spot in the middle of the night.

  Yeah, either that or he's going to put two in the back of my fuckin' head.

  A few minutes later, I see headlights coming around the bend and feel my balls tighten instantly in response. He's here. Shit.

  “Get a grip,” I mutter to myself. “He can't kill you. Otherwise he gets nothing.”

  It's something I've repeated to myself a million times already. And even now, after saying it one million and one times, it doesn't make me feel one iota better. Trujillo is a wild card. He's unpredictable and I never know what he's going to do, let alone what he’s thinking. He very well could decide that I’m more trouble than it’s worth. That he'll eat the money I owe him just to wash his hands of me. I just don't know.

  And it's that uncertainty that has my balls climbing up into my throat.

  The black SUV pulls into the rest stop, as I’m trying to avoid comparing the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires with the sound my bones would make beneath those same tires. The SUV pulls to a stop in front of me and the driver cuts the lights. After being nearly blinded by the headlights, it takes my eyes a minute to re-adjust to the darkness.

  I hear the door open. Blinking away the spots, I watch as the driver walks around to the rear door and opens it. Gabriel Trujillo steps out of the vehicle and makes his way over to me. His dark hair is slicked back, and his thick beard neatly trimmed. The dark designer suit is well-fitted to his frame, with a vibrant blue pocket square, complete with matching tie - providing the only bit of color. Trujillo looks the part of a respectable businessman.

  He's anything but respectable though.

  Gabriel Trujillo is the head of one of the most notorious, violent, and brutal drug cartels in Mexico. Like most of the cartels, he's expanded his business operations into the U.S., moving drugs, guns, and girls. He's also eliminating his competitors along the way. The mass graves that seem almost commonplace south of the border these days, have been cropping up in places like Arizona and New Mexico. Recently, a couple had even been found in southern Colorado.

  There is no question that Trujillo is solidifying his hold on power in this part of the States. And I'm right in the middle of all this shit. If I'd known who and what he was when he first approached me, I never would have gotten into bed with him in the first place. But, desperation and a lack of options make a man do stupid things sometimes. Hell, all the time.

  He stops a couple of feet in front of me, smiling. He hands me one of the two cups he's holding. I look at it for a long moment, feeling completely uncertain.

  “Cappuccino,” he says. “I picked one up for you on our way. Thought you might like something to warm you up.”

  I reach out and take one of the cups, eyeballing it skeptically. “T-thanks.”

  “You're welcome.”

  We stand in silence for a moment, Trujillo sipping his drink as he looks out over the skyline of Denver, admiring it as I had been before he pulled up. I look down at the cup but don't drink, hoping he doesn't notice. Though, I know that poison isn't exactly his style. No, when Trujillo wants you dead, he makes a statement about it. It's a fact I've unfortunately had to learn as he seems to enjoy trumpeting his kills.

  After a few moments, he turns around and looks at me. “It's beautiful up here at night,” he says. “Gorgeous view.”

  I nod, as thick tendrils of dread wrap themselves around my throat, pulling tighter and tighter. Trujillo's eyes are darker than space and just as unfeeling. It's almost as if he can peel the skin off my bones and completely eviscerate me, with nothing more than a glance.

  “Nice to see you, Michael,” Trujillo says, his accent rich and cultured. “Thank you for meeting me out here tonight.”

  “Did I really have much of a choice?”

  Trujillo smiles. “No, not really. But I am a firm believer in manners,” he says. “What can I say, my mother raised me to believe in being polite and observing social norms.”

  “It's cold out here,” I say. “What can I do for you, Mr. Trujillo?”

  “I was wondering about the money you owe me,” he says, his voice smooth and pleasant. “And more specifically, when I can expect full payment on your debt.”

  I clear my throat and look down at the ground. “I'm working on it, Mr. Trujillo,” I reply. “I mean, we're doing a good job of cleaning a lot of it through the construction projects, and –”

  “Yes, you're cleaning some of it and turning a tidy profit,” he says. “But, that is ultimately, a slow process. Considering the interest accruing on your original loan, you're barely breaking even at this point. I'm looking for a more – substantial – payment, Michael.”

  Shuffling my feet on the ground, I kick a small stone away. “I'm working on that, Mr. Trujillo,” I say softly. “Times have been tight lately. Some of my bids are getting undercut by –”

  Trujillo moves so fast, I barely have time to register the fact that he's in motion before his hand lashes out and slaps the cup of coffee out of my grasp. I watch numbly as the cup sails through the darkness of the night, hitting the gravel of the rest stop. The top pops off and the drink spills out all over the ground.

  I turn to Trujillo, my heart hammering, and a sick, queasy feeling rising in my stomach. He's staring at me, his eyes darker and harder than I've ever seen them before. Jaw clenched, body ten
se, fists balled at his sides, I can see Trujillo trying to physically control and restrain himself.

  I should have known better. I feel myself grimacing. Trujillo is not a man who likes explanations and justifications. He expects results. Action. Those are the only things he respects.

  “I don't want excuses, Michael,” he says, his voice as cold as his eyes. “I want my money.”

  “I understand, Mr. Trujillo,” I say. “And I'm –”

  He holds his hand up and I fall silent. The look of patience on his face is forced and I can tell, is taking a Herculean effort on his part.

  “Michael, I want to make sure you understand the seriousness of your situation,” he says.

  “I do, Mr. Trujillo,” I say.

  The greasy, nauseous feeling rises even higher within me and I'm half-afraid I'm going to throw up on his thousand-dollar shoes.

  “Are you certain of that?” Trujillo asks.

  I nod. “Yes, I'm sure.”

  He looks at me for a long moment, a look of skepticism on his face, which makes my stomach churn even more. Yeah, if this little meeting doesn't end soon, I'm going to puke all over the place right in front of him.

  “I'm not certain you are, Michael,” he says. “I think I need to do a better job of making you understand the gravity of the situation you're in.”

  Images of severed limbs, decapitated and eviscerated bodies fill my mind – all courtesy of the photos of his handiwork Trujillo has shown me. As I imagine myself winding up like those poor assholes, my stomach roils, my balls are tighter than ever before, and I'm closer to vomiting than I've been in years.

  Trujillo signals to his driver and the large Mexican man opens the back door of the SUV again. He reaches in and I hear someone sobbing. The driver drags a man out of the back – he had obviously been “worked over” by the cartel already. The driver pushes the man down to his knees in front of Trujillo and puts his large hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.