Virgin's Daddy: A Billionaire Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “Come on,” Guff said, yanking my arm. I stumbled to my feet. “Let’s go for a fucking walk.”

  “Get off me,” I said, terrified. I looked around but nobody seemed to care. Most of the men simply looked away, too ashamed to even make eye contact with me.

  Guff and his boys, they were known here. Everyone knew the Dixie Mafia in Knoxville. They practically ran the town, and if you wanted to survive you had to make good with them. Nobody crossed the mafia and survived, not for long at least.

  As I was learning. They dragged me across the room and out into the parking lot, pushing me toward my car.

  I stumbled and tripped over a rock, tumbling down to the ground. The men laughed as Guff roughly pulled me to my feet.

  “Open the car,” he ordered. I listened and unlocked the driver’s side door.

  One of the goons tore open the door and grabbed my bag. He ripped through it, throwing the contents around. He looked at Guff and shook his head.

  “Where’s our money, Hartley?” he asked. “Where’s our fucking money?”

  “You know I don’t have it,” I said. “I gave you everything I could.”

  “That’s not how this works,” Guff said, and shoved me against the car. “Your people took lots of money from us, and you showed up asking how you could pay us back. We gave you some options, but you didn’t like ’em. Now you want to leave?”

  I clenched my jaw and looked away. Their idea of paying them back involved me whoring myself out to their customers. They wanted me to sell myself into sex slavery in exchange for my family’s debt, and I just couldn’t do it. I’d tried to think of something else, tried to make enough money to show that I meant to make good, but they weren’t reasonable men.

  “I had no choice,” I said. “You really expected me to do that?”

  “Hell yeah, girl,” he said. “I expect you to suck every fucking cock in this state if you want to get out of debt.”

  “Screw you, Guff,” I said, surprising myself. I didn’t know where I was finding this anger, but it was there, deep inside me.

  The men all laughed. “All right then, Hartley,” he said. “You can screw me, all right.” He reared his hand back and then punched me in the face.

  I would have fallen if I weren’t held up by the car. Pain flashed through my face, blinding me, shocking me with its intensity.

  “I’ll let you screw me right here,” Guff said, cackling like a madman. “Boys, go make sure nobody bothers us.”

  Guff grabbed me and spun me around. I had the sense to try to fight him off, but he was too strong.

  “Go ahead,” he whispered in my ear. “Struggle.”

  I couldn’t believe this. I couldn’t believe this was going to happen, in the middle of the day, in the parking lot. I was so close to getting out, so close to running.

  I should never have come to Knoxville.

  2

  Travis

  I hadn’t been home in a long damn time.

  Knoxville hadn’t changed much since I last left it over five years ago. Same assholes ran the place, same economically depressed industries, same old shit. I wasn’t sure what the fuck was drawing me back, except to visit my brother.

  Maybe I needed a little nostalgia. For the past five years I’d been a member of an elite Navy SEAL team tasked with hunting down and killing international terrorists. Our biggest adversary, a group based out of Pakistan called The Network, had attempted to blow up a nuclear power plant in Michigan. Fortunately, though, the team’s old SEAL captain and I had managed to foil the plot, averting a serious disaster.

  But since then, the captain had decided to retire from active SEAL duty, and the whole team had been put on temporary standby until a new captain could be selected. That meant my ass was stuck in a semi-permanent shore leave, and I was already getting fucking bored.

  There were only so many women I could fuck before they all seemed the same. I’d been hanging around Chicago, hitting whatever spot struck my fancy, taking women home almost every night. I never had a fucking problem getting a girl to warm my bed each night if that was what I wanted.

  But that got tiring soon enough. And so I found myself driving across the country just to get a glimpse of my old hometown.

  I didn’t have family in Knoxville, not anymore. I came from an old southern family, farmers and fighters and drinkers and thieves. My parents were dead and my extended family had all gotten out of town, probably for the best. Knoxville wasn’t exactly welcoming to the Rock clan anymore.

  These days, Knoxville was run by the Dixie Mafia. That was fine with me, though those guys tended to be dramatic assholes. I knew them back in my younger days, back when I was just a dumb and reckless asshole teenager doing whatever I could to make a buck. I wasn’t interested in getting involved with them. All I wanted was to do a little trip down memory lane and to finally visit my older brother after all this time.

  Which was how I ended up at Mack’s Roadhouse. It was a little backwoods place on the edge of town where all the damn rednecks ended up. I sat my ass down at one end of the bar, ordered a whisky, and took in the feel of good old Knoxville.

  It felt crowded and loud. That was pretty much how I remembered it, but maybe my memory was skewed a bit toward the positive. Mack’s was really just a rundown plywood box with a hole in the back to shit and piss in, plus a bunch of bootleg liquor lining the shelves.

  I sipped my whisky, ignoring the loud idiots all around me. I was one of these guys, back in the day, back before the Navy kicked my ass into shape. I was just a dumb fucking hick kid back then, and all I dreamed about was one day owning some farm land.

  Instead, I ended up enlisting and wound up becoming a Navy SEAL. That kicked my ass into shape, and I never looked back. I went overseas, fought the good fight, saved the damn world.

  That was all I wanted to do in this life: travel the world, fighting the bastards who hurt innocent people. I felt most alive when I was out in the trenches, sleeping in ditches, my life in danger.

  And I was fucking good at it. You didn’t become a SEAL if you were some soft piece of shit. I was one hard motherfucker, and I lived for that. I didn’t take any shit from anybody, because I was a man trained to kill and always win.

  I knocked back my first whisky and ordered a second. I decided to nurse this one, not wanting to get too fucked up before the night really got going. If I remembered correctly, Mack’s got pretty fucking wild after the sun went down, and I was in the mood for some good southern pussy.

  I looked up from my drink and saw her for the first time. Blond curly hair, big green eyes, thick red lips. She looked surprised to see me, probably not used to seeing a real man mixed in with all these fucking scum.

  And shit was she fucking sexy. Her full breasts were showing out the top of her sundress. I gave her a nice smirk, keeping eye contact, and slowly nodded at her.

  The girl turned red and looked away. I wanted to laugh. I couldn’t believe a girl like her got shy at a man giving her a nod, but there it was. She was skittish, the pretty fucking thing.

  Just then, these three guys came wading through the crowd. The one in the front, this string-bean looking fuck with disgusting hair and yellow teeth, put his hand on the girl’s shoulder. She went from looking embarrassed and surprised to terrified as soon as she turned toward him.

  I couldn’t hear their voices, but based on the way everyone around them responded, the conversation wasn’t good. The man grabbed the girl by the arm and he yanked her out of her seat, practically dragging her along.

  Now, I wasn’t looking for trouble. I wasn’t really in the mood for a fight, or at least not this early in the day. I liked to be a little drunker before I started in on beating some assholes down. But I was raised to respect a woman, and I never turned my back when I saw shit go down like that.

  All the other assholes in the bar, they pretended like it wasn’t happening. I couldn’t fucking believe it, but it didn’t shock me. These dickheads were all talk, a b
unch of fucking cowards when it came right down to it.

  I knocked my drink back and motioned for another. The barman filled up my glass and I knocked another back. “Who are those boys?” I asked him before he walked away. “The ones with the girl.”

  The barman frowned. “Ain’t nobody you want to know, friend. Best just keep out of it.”

  I nodded. “Okay then. Thanks.”

  The assholes dragged the girl out of the bar and nobody said a word. The door shut behind them and everyone went back to laughing and talking like nothing had happened.

  I sighed and stood up slowly. I checked the knife in my pocket and then headed slowly toward the front door. My heart was beating slowly in my chest, and I took a deep breath.

  I really wasn’t looking for shit, but apparently shit had a way of finding me.

  I pushed open the door and stepped out. Standing there was one of the goons with his arms crossed. He was short and stocky with a bald head and some shitty, racist tattoos on his neck.

  “Turn around,” he grunted. “Private fucking party out here.”

  I heard the girl struggling out in the parking lot. She wasn’t quite screaming, but I could tell she was angry and in pain.

  “Sounds like someone needs help,” I said to the guy.

  “I don’t hear a thing,” he said, stepping toward me. “Go back inside.” He lifted his shirt and showed me a pistol.

  I laughed. “Seriously?”

  He went to draw, but I moved faster. I grabbed the wrist he was drawing with and shoved it down. He stumbled forward, so I smashed my forehead into the dumb fuck’s nose.

  Blood poured from his wound as I twisted our bodies and threw him to the ground. He hit the concrete hard. I pulled his wrist out from his pants, leaving the gun behind, and cracked him in the face with my free fist.

  The guy was out cold. I made a face and pulled the gun from his body, just to be on the safe side.

  A second later, his buddy came around the corner. “What the fuck?” he called out, pulling his piece.

  “Don’t,” I said, already pointing my gun at his face. “You pull that gun and I’ll kill you.”

  He paused, hesitating. I stood and walked over to him. “Turn around,” I said.

  He put his hands up and listened. I grinned and put the gun against his back. I took his weapon from his waistband and threw it away into the woods.

  “Walk,” I ordered.

  We moved together across the parking lot. There, pressing the girl against the car, was their greasy fucking leader. He had the girl turned around and was working on getting her panties down.

  “You with the tiny cock,” I called out. “Let the girl go or I’ll kill you and your fucking friend.”

  The guy stopped and gaped at me, shocked. I grinned and waved the gun at him. “Step back from the girl.”

  He frowned and stepped back, raising his hands in the air. His jeans fell down around his ankles.

  The girl instantly got away from him, pulling her panties back up. She stared at me, tears in her eyes and a nasty bruise growing on her face.

  “Did you punch this girl?” I asked the guy. I pushed his friend and made him walk over next to his leader. I lined them up, holding the gun level and steady.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing, son,” the leader said. “I can clearly see that. You think you’re helping this girl, but you’re not. Walk away now and nothing will happen.”

  I sighed. I did not like this motherfucker.

  “I said, did you punch this girl?”

  He spat on the ground. “Yeah. Bitch deserved it.”

  I hit him as hard as I could in the eye with the butt of the gun. He dropped to the ground.

  But he wasn’t unconscious. He groaned in pain, holding his face.

  “There you go. Now you two are even, I think.” I leaned toward the guy. “Listen to me, motherfucker. You come near this girl again and I’ll kill you all. Got it?”

  “You stupid cunt,” he said. “You’re messing with the wrong guys.”

  “I’m going to pretend like you said, ‘yes sir, good sir,’ and leave it at that.”

  “Fuck you,” the man said. I turned away and walked over to the girl.

  “Come on,” I said to her.

  “What?”

  “Come on,” I said again.

  She followed me as I walked across the parking lot.

  “Wait,” she said. “My stuff.” She ran back over to the car and began stuffing her things back into a bag. I sighed and waited. When she was done, she kicked the guy on the ground as hard as she could before coming back toward me.

  I grinned at her. “He deserved that.”

  “He deserves worse.”

  “Come on.” I went over to my car, unlocked it, and opened the door for her. “Get in.”

  She gave me a look, like she wasn’t sure she could trust me. Frankly, that look made me fucking hard as hell. I’d never seen a girl with so much fire before.

  I smirked at her. “I won’t bite. Get in the car before those guys decide to fight back.”

  Reluctantly, she climbed in. I shut the door and then walked around to the driver’s seat.

  I got inside, started the engine, and pulled away.

  I hadn’t been looking for shit. I’d wanted a nice, quiet time in the bar, maybe get some pussy later in the day. Instead, I beat the fuck out of two guys and saved some ungrateful girl’s life.

  At least she had a mouth that made my cock hard and a body to match.

  Still, based on the look she was giving me, I guessed I was going to have to be very careful. That thought only made me that much more excited.

  3

  Hartley

  He came out of nowhere.

  One second I was pressed up against the car, struggling as Guff worked to get my panties down, and the next he was there. I couldn’t believe my eyes as he smashed the gun down into Guff’s face.

  I’d thought Guff was going to rape me. I’d thought I was going to be violated, right there in the parking lot, by that disgusting piece of shit. Instead, that man saved me.

  And I got to go back and get a nice kick in to top it all off.

  I couldn’t believe it. He’d hustled me into his car and we were off. Halfway down the drive back toward the main road, he tossed the gun out the window and laughed.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Hartley,” I said.

  He looked at me. “Pretty name.”

  “Who are you and why did you do that?”

  He smirked at me, and I got a better look at him. Tattoos snaked along his arms, disappearing up his shirt. I caught hints of them along his neck, peeking out from his collar. He was handsome, so damn handsome, with intense blue eyes and a ripped body that knew what it was doing.

  “Not a polite way of saying thanks, but I guess it’ll do.”

  “Thanks,” I said more softly. “But you shouldn’t have done that. Do you know who they are?”

  He sighed. “How come nobody cares who I am?” he said to himself.

  “I asked that first,” I pointed out.

  “Fair.” He smirked at me. “My name’s Travis, and I’m your guardian angel.”

  I laughed. “I don’t have a guardian angel.”

  “You did today, apparently. What did you do to make them want to hurt you like that?”

  I looked away from him. “Not sure that’s your business.”

  “I think it is, considering I just saved your pretty ass.”

  I sighed. “I don’t want to get into it.”

  He grunted. “Okay then. Was it bad enough to rape you over?”

  “No,” I said. “They didn’t think I was trying hard enough.”

  “Fucking scumbags,” he said softly. “I should have put a fucking bullet in them all.”

  “You don’t get it,” I said seriously. “Listen. They’re all Dixie Mafia. You should really drop me off now and get out of here before they figure out who you are.�
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  He glanced at me again, a small frown on his face. “Dixie Mafia, huh?”

  “Those three, they’re bad men. You shouldn’t have done that.”

  He grinned at me again. “I’m a bad fucking man myself, Hartley. You happen to be in luck.”

  I sighed, leaning back in the seat. His car was an old Cadillac, a big boat of a car, not the type of thing I was used to seeing down south. Most men drove trucks, big trucks with huge wheels, but not this guy.

  “Are you not from around here?” I asked him.

  “I was, a long time ago.”

  “So you know what the Dixie Mafia is then.”

  “I have a good idea, sure.”

  “Then you know it’s no joke,” I said, getting frustrated.

  “Didn’t think you were joking.” That cocky grin on his face, though, that grin said otherwise.

  That grin seemed to suggest that everything about me was a big fat joke. I could feel his eyes glancing at me, taking me in, not shy about it at all.

  “Look,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I appreciate what you did for me. I really do. But you should just drop me off and get out of here.”

  “Hartley, do those guys know where you live?” he asked me.

  “Yes,” I said, “but I was heading out of town.”

  “That’s probably smart. But do you think they’re going to stop looking for you just because you skipped out?”

  “No. Probably not.”

  “No, they won’t. I can promise that, especially now.”

  “Whose fault is that?”

  “I’m sorry. Should I have let that man rape you?”

  I shook my head. “Point taken.”

  “Listen to me. Come back to my hotel room. Let me get a look at that black eye you got. Stay the night and then make a new plan in the morning.”

  I frowned. This total stranger wanted me to stay the night with him? That usually meant only one thing, from my experience. Truth was, though, I couldn’t act like I wasn’t interested in exactly that. Every second I was around this man I felt my pulse quickening, my body reacting. I was dripping wet already, and I had no idea exactly why.