The Billionaire's Secret Love Child(35)

The baby came six days before Christmas, and Colt teased Sherry, making it seem as though he wanted the little boy to be named Rupert like him.

“I don’t think so, Rupert,” Sherry said from the bed, holding the little pink baby to her chest.

“At least, it’s not a girl,” Colt said. “I couldn’t deal with calling my daughter Love.”

“Come on, be serious. Help me think of a name.”

“How about Viper?”

Sherry laughed. “Are you ever going to grow up?”

“Did you think I would ever grow up this much?” Colt asked, and Sherry grinned and shook her head.

“No,” she said.

Colt leaned down and kissed her, and then he pressed his lips to his son’s tiny forehead. He still looked mean, covered in tattoos, and he favored jeans and tee shirts, and his anger rose up in him sometimes. But looking down at the woman he loved and their son, Colt knew he would never go back to the man he had been.



*****

THE END





Bad Boy Biker Seal – A Biker Navy Seal Romance




1

Rebecca Roberts loved the feeling of the air on her face, whipping her long blonde hair behind her, the bike rumbling and roaring between her legs. She was riding alone, as she did so often in the last few months. She wore her colors on the back, a black zip up hoodie with her club’s logo, a skull with two crossed hammers beneath it. She had never been one for the leather vest, and these days, a lot of the younger members were putting the logo on shirts or jackets instead of the black leather. Riding in a motorcycle club was evolving - for the first time in decades.

Of course, some things would never change. Rebecca knew that first hand. She was beautiful, just shy of twenty-five, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She was petite, with well-rounded hips and large breasts. Every man who saw her wanted her. If they were into bikes, they wanted her even more. There was just something sexy about a woman who could fix up a Harley, and no woman could do that better than Rebecca. She had been serving as The Hammer’s mechanic since she was twenty. She loved the work, and even as the rest of her life crumbled down around her, she found solace in sitting in her garage, her hands black and greasy, her mind on one thing. A bike.

Jason Alder was pushing thirty, a large man with muscles growing upon his muscles. He was good looking with an angular face and a close-cropped beard, his hair black but with flecks of gray already making an appearance. He had been the leader of The Hammers for three years, and a member for a lot longer than that. The Hammers were based out of Oklahoma City, where Rebecca had been born and raised. Her father had been a member and had taught her everything she knew. He had died when she was only fifteen, being shot by the police after The Hammers and another local crew had a massive dust-up that led to seven people dead altogether, including one cop, and one civilian who was simply in the wrong bar at the wrong time.

Jason was the kind of guy who thought that since he was boss, he should get what he wanted. And what he wanted was Rebecca. Her last serious relationship had ended when she was eighteen, and though there had been a string of men since then, when Jason went for her, she didn’t put up much of a fight.

The relationship had lasted a little over a year. The sex was good, but everything else had been bad. She had really fallen for him, and he told her he loved her, but by the time she found out he had cheated on her for the third time, she knew he was full of shit.

Rebecca was crushed. She left Jason, and he seemed determined to make her life Hell. He yelled at her, put her down in front of everyone, and managed to turn most of the club against her.

“Why don’t you just leave?” he asked her one night.

“I love the bikes,” she had said quietly. He had laughed at her, and she had cried.

She had taken to just cruising around a lot. She worked during the day, keeping The Hammer’s bikes in good condition. As evening came on, she would ride, well into the night. It was almost three in the morning when she returned home to find Jason waiting for her, sitting atop his bike in her driveway.

Rebecca lived in the same house she had grown up in. After her father had died her mother stuck around for a few years, but as soon as Rebecca turned eighteen her mother split, heading back to Florida, where she was from. Rebecca hadn’t seen her yet. She had almost been moved to Florida three years before she turned eighteen, but she had made a deal with her mother: stay in school, and her mother wouldn’t move her. It was the only thing that kept Rebecca in class.

“What do you want Jason?” Rebecca asked as she rolled her bike past her ex and opened the garage door. She parked inside and then closed the door by hand, slapping a padlock close.

“Call me Boss. If you won’t leave the club, at least respect me,” the man said, throwing one leg over his bike as he climbed off of it.

“No one else calls you boss.”

“The girls I f*ck do.”

“We don’t f*ck anymore,” Rebecca said, rolling her eyes and pulling her house key from the pocket of her tight jeans.

“Look, I just came over to tell you, I’ve been missing you, and I think we should put this behind us and go into your bedroom.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. She unlocked her door and stepped into her modest home, turning to stand in the doorway.