Romance: Teen Romance: Game On (A Nerd and a Bad Boy Romance) (New Adult High School Sports Romance) (17 page)

*****

''Avaline,'' Colten shouted. Avaline hurried into his office carrying a notepad. ''I want you to book a two rooms at the Hilton Hotel in London.''

''Sure. Who shall I say will be staying?''

''Me and you.''

''Er....okay,'' She looked at him suspiciously.

''Why are you
looking
at me like that? I'm going to look at some deals in
London,
and I need my PA with me.''

''But you've never done any business outside the US.''

''And now is the perfect time to start. The market has reached rock bottom. There are some great deals around in London.''

''Right, when are we going.''

''Tomorrow. You'll need to book the flights as well. Me first class, you economy.''

Avaline
looked a little
disappointed,
but Colten was in no mood for facial antics. It would do her good to realize how was the boss. She'd had enough of his hospitality. Now it was time for her to feel that she was way down the pecking order again.''

The next day Robert dropped them off at Los Angeles International
Airport,
and they boarded a nonstop flight to London. It took eleven hours. Colten arrived refreshed from having slept most of the way in a very comfortable reclining chair. Avaline, on the other hand, was sleep deprived and sweaty after her ordeal in economy class. 

When they arrived at the Hilton, Avaline wanted to go to bed, but Colten wasn't having any of it. He decided he wanted to see the sights.
He
paid a taxi driver a small fortune to drive them around a list of sights he'd downloaded from the internet before they left LA.

When they reached Buckingham Palace, he prodded
Avaline
who was nodding off next to him. ''Look. That's where the Queen hangs out. It's great to see isn't it.''
Avaline
nodded, eyes half closed. To her, it was some large building with an ornate railing in front of it. Nothing to get worked
up about
. Colten was equally enthusiastic at the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Nelson's Column and Piccadilly Circus. By the time they reached the Hilton, Avaline was fast asleep.

Colten decided he would give her a few hours to sleep and then buy her dinner. They had a lot of appointments the following
day,
and he decided to do some preparation in his room.

At six pm he rang Avaline.

''Hello,' she said
in a
gruff voice.

''Did you sleep well?''

''Yes. Very.''

''Dinner in an hour in the main restaurant,'' he hung up.

Avaline
had packed a black cocktail
dress,
and she decided if he
were
going to be an asshole to her then she would return the favor. He'd made her fly economy all the way from
LA,
and it was perfectly obvious her room was nowhere near as luxurious as his. She didn't expect the best room in the house, but she wasn't going to be treated like a servant either. She was going to make him suffer. She would look so hot he'd have an erection all through dinner.

And when she arrived in reception via the elevator, she did look hot. A few handsome men were checking into the
hotel,
and all of them watched every step she took until she disappeared into the restaurant. Colten was sitting at a cozy table for two in the corner, next to the window. When he saw her, his jaw dropped. As she moved sensually toward him, he saw her hips swinging, fighting the black material, and her breasts
standing proud
for this attention. Her blonde hair waved past her shoulders to the middle of her back.

''You look stunning,'' he said. ''I know you're my
PA,
and
you
don't like me talking like that, but you are so beautiful tonight.''

''Well it's London. It's a classy
place,
so I decided to make a bit of an effort.''

When the waiter was busy pouring the wine, Colten made a decision. Tonight had to be the night. It
was make
or break time. He wanted
her,
and he
was used
to getting his way. No, he always got what he wanted. If she wanted to refuse him, then it would be the last time.

''
That was great
,'' she said after coffee. ''It's
really
a luxurious place isn't it. More luxury than I have ever seen.''

''You can have all the luxury in the world, you know that.''

''I know. You keep telling me. Only I know what I have to do for
that,
and
I
'm not a gold
digger,
and as I've said so often, it's unprofessional.''

He looked at her as his erection grew larger.
  ''I don't think you quite understand, I don't just want you for a quickie or a few months. My intentions are honorable.''

''Not according to your track record. What else do I have to go on? I need this job and if you get bored of me, and kick me out, where will I go? No Colten, it's not right.''

Colten stood up and offered her his arm. Very well, let me escort you to your room and we'll call it a night. She took his
arm,
and they proceeded to leave the restaurant. On the way past an elderly couple, Colten heard the lady say, ''what a lovely couple.''

It seemed to Colten as if the elevator took an age to get to the third floor. Eventually, a bell
rang,
and the door opened. ''That's me,''
Avaline
said. ''I can manage from here.''

''No way, look what happened to you in LA when you
were left
on your own.''

''Colten, I'm in a luxury London hotel, I'm hardly going to get mugged between here and my room.''

Colten
wasn't having
it. He got out of the elevator and proceeded to escort her to her room. Outside room 315, she stopped and looked
for
the key in her bag.

''Thank you for
a wonderful
evening. I will remember it for a long time,'' she said.

Colten snatched the key-card from her hand and shoved it in the slot. The lock
clicked,
and he pushed the door open.

''What are you....?''

''I've had enough of this now. I want you and
I'm
going to have you. I'm
gonna
take what I
want,
and you're going to enjoy it.''

''But I told you.....''

Colten pulled her into the room and pushed her face first against the wall. He closed the door with his foot and leaned against her back. He put his mouth on her neck and kissed it.

''You want it as much as I do. So stop playing games with me. You're teasing
me,
and I've had more than my fill of it.''

She felt his hand at the hem of her dress and soon her buttocks were exposed to the
cool
air in the room. He pulled her string off in on
easy
movement and put his hand over her vulva.

''As I thought, you're as wet as hell. Now tell me you don't want me.''
Avaline
didn't say anything. The authority in his voice and they way he'd just ripped her panties off had turned her on. ''Come on tell me, you want it too, don't you?'' He let his fingers massage her womanhood as he kissed her neck again.

''Damn you. Yes, I want it. But I want more than a quick screw. If I let you take me, that's
it; I
want it all. I'm not one of your cheap whores.''

''I've told you, you can have it all. Whatever you
want
.'' His free hand reached around and pulled one of her breasts out of the flimsy dress. Her nipple was already hard.

''I want love, respect, and your affection.''

He pulled her from the wall and threw her on the bed. He got on top of her and kissed her. ''You got it, babe. You got it all. Now just let me fuck you for Christ sake.''

She kissed him back and put her arm around his neck. His body on top of hers, she could feel his erection pressing against her belly. He pulled away and stood up. He threw his jacket onto the chair in the corner of the room and took off his tie. His shoes and socks followed the jacket.

Avaline sat up and helped him unfasten his shirt. When it slipped
off his shoulders,
she ran her hands over his smooth skin. She playfully raked her nails over his chest and kissed each of his nipples.

''
There's something going
on down here,'' she said. ''Let's see what you've got.'' She lowered his zipper and put her hand inside his pants and then into his shorts. ''Now that's a cock,'' she whispered as she felt how long and thick he was.

He smiled and reached down to her dress. He unfastened the halter and let it fall from her breasts. ''Nice,'' he whispered as he fondled them. He pulled her hand out of his pants and slid them, and his shorts, down past his thighs. Avaline slipped out of the dress and lay on the bed naked. When he was ready, he lay down next to her and pulled her onto him. She straddled him and slipped him inside her with a low moan. She stayed still and bent down to kiss him.

''So you like
woman
on top?'' she asked.

''I want to look at you. I want to see your face and your tits.'' He thrust his hips up encouraging her to move. And move she did. She bucked up and down on him, pressing her pubic bone against his shaft. He played with her breasts, flicking his thumb over her nipples. She increased the pace, her hips moving back and forth
as fast
as she could manage. When he reached behind her and groped her buttocks, she let out a load moan and slumped in a shaking heap on top of him. He put his strong arms around her and flipped her onto her back. He lay still until her orgasm was over. Then he entered her again. This time, he was in charge, and he began to thrust into her with hard strokes which made her gasp. He was heavy on her but
warm,
and she loved the intimacy. She loved the coarse feel of the hair on his thighs and the feel of his face as she ran her fingers over his cheeks. He was an intense lover who demanded she open her legs as wide as she could and take him into her. He was a man, a real man, the kind of man she'd always wanted and now he was between her legs, she wanted him to stay there forever. 

He rammed her harder, his lust overflowing. She fought back wrapping her legs around his back and thrusting her hips up, demanding his seed. She felt him beginning to
sweat,
and she loved the scent of him.

''Come on,'' she said. ''Take me with you.'' She reached down and began to touch herself.

''I'm coming, fucking coming,'' he shouted. Avaline rubbed herself furiously and reached an intense orgasm at the same time as his semen spilled from him into her
deep
warmth.

On top of her, breathing hard, he kissed the side of her face and then her neck. She wrapped her long legs tighter around his back not wanting him to leave her. When he had to, he rolled off her and lay next to her. He took her hand and lay it on his stomach.

''I like you a hell of a lot. I'm not letting you go,'' he said.

''I want to spend so much time with you.
I want to know all of you. You know I can't be your PA now, don't you.''

''Yes. I know. What do you
really
want to do?''

''I want to be a mom.''

''Well, let's see what we can arrange,'' he said rolling onto his side. ''Give me a few minutes.''

*****

THE END

1

The young woman looked over the bike. She put her hand on her chin, the way she remembered her father doing when she went with him to used car lots. He was a car
guy; he
loved buying
old
beat up ones, working on them for months at a time, and then selling them for huge gains. She stroked her chin though she obviously didn’t have a beard the way her cuddly bear of a father had.

Her name was Vanessa Keller, and her father had been dead for ten years by the time she was staring at the Harley at age twenty-two. His name had been George Heller, and it had been just the two of them until he
died
and had been since her mother had passed away when she was two. Mother dead as a toddler, father dead at twelve, and then she had gone to live with Aunt Kathy, out in Utah.

She hated Utah. It was too hot. Too dusty. Too boring. Well, mostly boring. From a young age and through her teen years Vanessa had found one thing she loved about Harrington Utah, the small town her aunt
lived in
. A massive biker gang, one of the largest in Utah
was headquartered
in Harrington. They were the Pythons, and the men in the biker gang all wore vests or jackets with an insignia stitched onto the back, a massive green snake coiled around a skeleton.

There were no women in the club
proper
though each man always seemed to have one on the back of his bike, thick girls with massive breasts and fat asses, long blonde hair, and as many tattoos as the men had.

Vanessa didn’t look like that. Not as a teenager, and not as a young woman. She was taller, thinner. She had rounded feminine hips, and a taut ass, but it wasn’t big. Her breasts were perky, perfectly formed, but she didn’t bust through her bras the way the biker chick’s all seemed too.

She was
beautiful,
though. He face was angular, perfect, her lips plump, her eyes a soft blue. She had a long string of boyfriends throughout school, but she always went for the bad boys, and things ended badly.

And still she was missing something. Those boys, the bad boys of
high
school, they weren’t bad enough. She had a thing for the bikers she saw all over town. Not the old
ones,
of course, the fat guys with their big white beards, she liked the young ones. Thin and tanned, with hard eyes and harder muscles. That’s what she wanted.

When she
graduated,
Vanessa planned on moving far away, but something stopped her.
Instead,
she went to a local
college
and got a degree in creative writing.
She
had always loved writing. She lived with her aunt while she went to school, commuting to the small campus every day. And then she graduated, and she didn’t know what to do.

She wanted to write.
To be a writer.
But she didn’t know what. She felt as though she had stories within her, stories she wanted to tell, but how to get started?

She wrote short stories and sent them
into
magazines and websites. Most
were rejected
, but some
were published
. Still, it wasn’t enough to
live on
. Aunt Kathy had always loved her, and had always taken care of her, but Vanessa could tell she would be happier if, now after college, she found her
own
place. Aunt Kathy had been married once, but divorced since before Vanessa’s father passed away. She dated off and
on
but had grown to enjoy a solitary lifestyle.
She
had no kids of her
own
and liked it that way. Vanessa sat down with the older woman and told her she would be getting a job and moving out. They hugged, and Vanessa felt a bit sad. She could feel the relief flowing off of her aunt.

She needed a job before she could find her
own
place. There were small apartments down on Mill
Street
, which was the main
street
which ran right through the center of Harrington. She could afford
one
if only she could find a job.

She was drawn to a few places downtown. A small antique store owned by an old woman who was an antique herself. Another was Nathan’s,
a small
diner. Vanessa was pretty sure she would make
a good
waitress. The last place she was considering applying to was The Devil Dog. That was a seedy bar at the far end of Mill Street, where the place was usually full of bikers, and Python’s more often than not. She could tend bar
there; she
was pretty sure, and
she
would be around those guys she had lusted after for so long.

Of course,
Vanessa didn’t want to be at any of those jobs for long, they would just be until she wrote that great
American
novel she had in her. She ended up applying to all three places, and all three had her interview.

In the end
she was offered a job by the old woman at the antique store, and Chet, the grizzled man who owned The Devil Dog. She took the job at The Devil Dog.

The hours were
tough
, but she had always been a night own
anyways
, she worked five days a week, all nights, going in seven and getting off at three in the morning on Monday’s, Thursday’s, Friday’s, Saturday’s, and Sunday’s. She had back to back days off, which was nice, and it turned out to be sort of like the weekend.

Chet was a nice
man
if a bit short with his employees. She didn’t get much guidance from him when she started beyond “Show your tits off and you’ll get more tips.” Luckily Susan took Vanessa under her wing.

Susan was in her early
fifties,
and she had been a bartender at The Devil Dog for over fifteen years. She was
pretty,
but her lined face was evidence of a live hard lived.
She
had been an alcoholic she freely admitted, though she had managed to be sober, even working in a bar, for over three years.

She spent a week showing Vanessa the ropes, and the often worked together. The only time Vanessa tended alone was on the ultra slow Monday’s, but she had one of the two cooks with her, both large muscular men, in case anyone got out of line.

In The Devil Dog, people got out of line often. Most of the customers were bikers, their black and chrome hogs like beasts from Hell when they pulled into the parking lot, and they were parked, slanting slightly against
kick stands
, in front of the long porch which wrapped around the front of the bar.

Most of the bikers were Python’s, but a few other clubs frequented the place as well. That was always likely to go up in like a powder keg. It only took one wrong word, one sideways glance, and men would be throwing punches. The bikers took their clubs seriously, and a slight against one
man
meant one against his fellow club members too. Vanessa found the whole thing a little bit silly, and she was wondering if she had made a mistake by picking the bar over the antique shop by her second week there.

As ridiculous as the grown men playing war was, she had to admit the younger men were exactly the types that got her motor revving so to speak. There were strong, and tough, and weren’t afraid to show their interest in her.

One of the most handsome, and one of the boldest, was a man in his
mid-twenties
named John. Of course, like most of the bikers that frequented The Devil Dog, no one called him by his real name. He had a nickname. Since starting her new job, Vanessa had been assaulted by idiotic nicknames all night. There was the fight Python with the bald head but the
walrus-like
mustache called Snakebite, and a younger guy with glasses that everyone called Dipstick.
John,
though, as far as biker nicknames went, his wasn’t
bad
. Tank. It wasn’t
good
of course, but
at least,
it wasn’t Dipstick.

Vanessa was fairly sure she knew why he was called Tank. His arms were massive, barely constrained in the sleeves of the leather jacket he always wore. His pecs pressed against the thin material of his tee shirts, and his legs were
thick like
tree trunks. He was a muscular man, and Vanessa was sure Tank would no doubt be able to best any man in the bar when it came to a
fight
or feats of strength.

Tank
had taken a liking to Vanessa. She had seen him with women before,
pretty
but overdone young girls with massive tits and short skirts. Vanessa knew she was prettier, and she had heeded her boss’ advice and bought a few new low cut shirts when she
was hired
, but she still was restrained when she
was compared
to Tank’s girls. He cycled through at least three, and they would come into the bar with him, and giggle and laugh as he pulled them onto his lap, and they would grind their pert asses against his cock through his jeans.

The young bartender found herself grow jealous when she would see that. She yearned to
be pulled
onto his
lap; she
yearned
to feel his dick grow hard beneath her. No matter if he was
with
a girl or not, when Vanessa worked, Tank was sure to spend some time at the bar, bullshitting with her.

One Saturday, after she had been working at The Devil Dog for almost three months, she finally gave into him. It was late, nearing three, when the bar shut
down,
and the bikers had to
go find
a bed to sleep it
off in
.
Tank
had come in with a girl,
a pretty
little blonde thing named Tiffany, but she had drank too much and thrown up and been taken home by a friend of hers. Since then Tank had been at the bar, smiling at Vanessa, flexing his muscles, and coming on to her in his
own
special way.

“I would love to slide my dick between your tits,” he said.

Vanessa laughed, blushing at his forwardness. “Me?” She asked.

“Yeah you, why not you?”

“Have you seen my breasts?” She asked.

“No, but I would love to,” Tank said with a grin.

“Trust me, they aren’t as big as your little blonde friend’s tonight,” Vanessa said. She was
self-conscious
about her
own
brunette hair, as soft and shiny as it
was
because she had only ever seen the biker with blondes.

“Ah, fuck her,” Tank said.

“That’s what I’m telling you to do,” Vanessa teased.

“Why you always gotta make it hard
on
me?” The biker asked her. “I complimented you.”

“You don’t
really
think
telling
a girl you want to tit fuck her is a compliment, do you?”

Tank laughed. “Sure it is.
Hey,
I got an idea, do a shot with me.”

“That
’s a bad idea
,” Susan said, stopping by on her way to the kitchen with a dirty plate.”

“Come on Susan, don’t piss all over our fun because you
don’t have fun yourself no
more,” Tank said, and Vanessa tried not to wince at his grammar. She was a writer after all.

“This one is bad news,” Susan said, ignoring Tank but nodding her head towards him. “Mark my words.”

“I can handle myself,” Vanessa said, and then she set two empty shot glasses on the bar. “What are we drinking?” She asked Tank as Susan went on, leaving them alone.

“Vodka,” Tank said, and he set a large bill on the bar. “As much as this will get us.”

Vanessa smiled and poured the first of many shots.