The Billionaire's Secret Love Child(27)

“Intrigued?” Dana finished for him.

“In love,” he said instead. He reached out to take her hand, and the young woman let him.

“Come live with me. I miss you. I love you.”

“I told you not to buy my shop.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to do it all on my own.”

“I wanted to help. I think I already knew I loved you.”

“The worst part is I think I love you too,” Dana said. “Or at least, I did, but now… I don’t know. I trusted you… I told you I didn’t want your help.”

Greg sighed and held his hands up. “I sold the place, you know.”

“I know. The guy came by a few days ago.”

“You found a new job?” Greg asked her.

“Yes,” Dana said.

“You like it?”

“No.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Open a new shop. Not a sex shop, but something.”

Greg was nodding. “I could help you, if you wanted. Or not.”

Dana sighed. “Why are you here?”

“I want you to take me back,” Greg said.

“Why would I do that?”

“I sold your shop. To make it right.”

“You shouldn’t have bought it in the first place,” Dana said. She was growing tired of the argument, but she found herself yearning to ask the man to come inside, yearning to pull him to her bed.

“I gave all of the money to charity,” Greg said.

“Which one?”

Greg laughed. “A lot of them.”

Dana couldn’t help it. She threw herself forward, into his arms, and he wrapped those arms around her. Their lips met, and he backpedaled. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held a finger to his lips.

“Shut up,” she said. “Take me inside and f*ck me. Oh, and I’m in charge this time.”

Greg smiled. “Yes ma'am,” he said.

Dana gripped him by the hair and pulled roughly. “I said keep quiet,” she said again. And all through the night, he did.



*****

THE END





Bad Boy Biker’s Baby – A MC Romance




1

Sherry Loveland hated her new job, but at least, it was paying the bills. And it was a good starting point, with a lot of opportunities to move up within the company. She lived in Texas, near the border, in a small town called Happy. Happy, Texas was anything but, with dusty roads and small squat homes and shops along Main Street.

Sherry had always been good with numbers, and she had found a job as an accountant for a small company that sold plastics to larger companies who molded the plastic into something. Water bottles mostly. It was boring work in a boring building with boring people. But, maybe, boring was exactly what Sherry needed.

Growing up most of her friends had called her Love, a play on her name and the fact that she burned through men the way other people burned through underwear. Sherry was short with round hips and big breasts, and she had long blonde hair that men loved to take a hold of while they were in bed.

Sherry had grown up in Oklahoma, and it was right after high school that she met Randy, a tall, athletic man a few years older, who played minor league baseball. He swept her off of her feet and then revealed his true colors. He was, to put it quite frankly, the way Sherry had said to her best friend, Sue, an *. The relationship lasted two years; the whole time Sherry was telling herself to leave. Finally, she did. And when she did something, she did it right. She didn’t just leave Randy; she left Oklahoma.

And she ended up in Happy and got her boring job. She had been there a little over three months, and the only thing in Happy, Texas that she found made her happy was Earl’s, a shady biker bar on the outskirts of town. It was filled with rough men, loose women, and a blaring Jukebox that hadn’t been updated since the eighties. It was exactly the kind of place Sherry had always loved.

It was Friday night when Sherry met him, the man who would change her life. She left work and headed straight for Earl’s. She had worked late, trying to win favor from her boss, an old man named Michael who was stingy with money. She could use a raise; the small apartment she rented near the center of town had a bug problem and an obnoxious neighbor problem as well. There were a number of nice little homes in town, empty and waiting for her. On her salary, though, she couldn’t afford one.

One step at a time, that’s what Sherry kept telling herself. She was young still, just twenty-one, and she had just left a horrible man who didn’t deserve her. She had left everything behind in Oklahoma. Her friends, her family. The stupid nickname. She wasn’t Love anymore; she was herself. Sherry. She just needed her job, and Earl’s, and she would make it.

Earl’s was a wooden building that seemed as though it might fall over in a stiff breeze. The parking lot was gravel, and there was always a few cars in it, and a long line of Harley’s at the entrance. Sherry pulled into a spot near the door and headed for the bar.

She was a bit overdressed, she knew; most of the women in the bar would be dressed like the men, blue jeans, tee shirts, leather vests. Biker chicks. Sherry was attracted to bad boys, but she would never call herself a biker chick. She was dressed for work, with a short skirt and heels and a tight fitting blouse. She knew her boss, Michae,l had hired her for her big tits more than her way with numbers, though her way with numbers was just as impressive as her bust, and she played up her good looks, in hopes that the man would want to keep her around. Sherry was smart, and she had no problem playing to any strengths she had, including the looks she had been blessed with.