ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (123 page)

She was now completely bare to his gaze, and her cheeks reddened. She knew how she must look with her behind raised in the air, her ass cheeks rosy red from his love taps.

She felt his hands on her ass and waited for him to enter her from behind.  Instead, Harper lowered his mouth to her and a high shriek escaped from her lips. Harper held her hips in place as he suckled at her from behind, his tongue sliding in deep enough to make her toes curl.

“Please, Harper, I want you in me now…”

“Your wish is my command,” Harper said with a smile.  His fingers dug into her ass cheeks as he pressed the head of his cock against her drenched pussy lips.  He entered her slowly, an inch at a time, then began a steady rhythm that got faster as they both got closer to the climax.

Her ass cheeks slapped against him as he thrust into her, over and over and over again.  She screamed in delight as she came harder than she ever had before.

As every muscle in his body clenched and his load filled her, Harper pressed into her as far as he could without hurting her.  He couldn’t help but laugh out loud when he heard her say, “Hammer… How appropriate.”

CHAPTER NINE

She was like a goddamn vice around him – tight and wet and wonderful. At first, Harper was worried that his somewhat rough approach to love making might put her off.  But Crystal had taken all he had to offer and more. Indeed, she seemed to have a secret submissive side that came out when she was turned on… and he loved it.

He’d taken a chance, he knew, telling her that he wanted her, but what did he have to lose? They were alone in the middle of nowhere. If she rejected him, he would apologize and leave well enough alone. Things would be awkward, but no more awkward than feeling her gaze burning into his back when she was supposed to be resting.

He’d hoped that she was attracted to him as much as he was to her. He didn’t know how long he would have been able to feign disinterest in this small, dark space. It was full of her scent, her low breathing, and that luscious body of hers, silhouetted in the dim light.

And now she’d made him happier than she could ever imagine.

As their bodies cooled, the howling of the sandstorm outside once again filled their ears. Slowly, he pulled out of her, doing up his pants before wrapping the blanket around her slender form. Crystal rolled over at his urging, her expression one of pure, lazy bliss.

He whispered to her.  “You OK, Banks?”

“I’m wonderful, Harper.”  She nuzzled in closer to him.  Her dark brown eyes opened slowly to gaze up at him, and something twisted in his gut. He could stay out here like this with her forever.

“If the storm hasn’t stopped by now, it will probably go on for a while,” Harper said, cocking an ear toward the cave entrance.  “You rest.  I’m going to build a fire.  It’ll get cold in here after dark.”

She didn’t argue this time.  She balled up in the blanket and soon was asleep.  Harper found some kindling for a fire. When she awoke, she got dressed and they had jerky and dried fruit by the light of the fire.  It was all oddly romantic and before he could finish his meal she was on top of him again.

Harper was more than ready. He’d been hard as nails for hours. He subdued her easily, and gave her a very thorough and leisurely lesson about the perils of trying to catch him off guard.

That night, they slept relatively little. Harper barely noticed the cold, or the storm still swirling outside. He was busy familiarizing himself with every inch of Crystal’s body. 

For a man who prided himself on always being in control, he lost all sense of control when she whispered his name and begged him to take her again and again.

CHAPTER TEN

Harper was jarred awake by Crystal’s scream. He bolted upright, reaching for his knife – only to come face to face with three figures standing at the mouth of the cave. It was a mother and her two children. They were dressed in the woven cloth of desert tribes, and it was clear from the belongings they carried that they were refugees.

It was obvious the woman knew exactly what was going on in the cave and she had the decency to cover her small daughter’s eyes. A boy of about ten gawked at Crystal’s bare chest until Harper wrapped an arm around her, hiding her breasts from view.

“It’s OK,” he whispered lowly in her ear. “They’re refugees. It looks like you might get your photographs, after all.”

Crystal’s face broke into a smile when Harper turned and spoke to the trio in fluent Farsi.  “Hello. We sought refuge here from the storm.  Can we come back to your settlement for water?”

The woman nodded quickly and ushered her children from the cave to give them the privacy they needed to find their clothes.

“I hate to say this, but get dressed,” Harper said, reaching for his pants. “They’re going to take us to their settlement.”

Crystal gazed up at him with the smile still on her face.  She said, “You are full of surprises, Commander Harper.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Miss Banks,” he said, reaching out a hand to lift her to her feet.  “Come on, the sooner we get your pictures, the sooner we can get back to the base.”

“And what happens when we get back to the base, Commander?” she asked, sidling up to him.  She put her arms around his waist and dug her fingers into his ass.  She pressed herself against the huge bulge in his pants.

“One word,” Harper said with a big smile.  “Hammer.”

THE END

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Cassandra Cole is much like the characters she writes about.  Definitely female, fiercely independent, and hopelessly romantic. She writes romance novels about ordinary people in extraordinary situations with strong feelings and few inhibitions.

ONE

NIGHT

STAND

An Erotic Romance

By

Cassandra Cole

CHAPTER ONE

One more day to go until the annual Shakespeare Festival started, and Natalya Bernard was already a nervous wreck. 

The guest companies were supposed to arrive today, composed of directors, actors, and students from England, Russia, Germany, and France. 

Natalya hadn’t slept in days, the tasks that awaited her every day kept her awake.  Although she was only an assistant to the director of the Royal Theatre, she felt the constant need to impress her boss with her work ethic and passion for the arts, especially since she was not an actress herself. 

Natalya loved her job and put it before everything else, even her own pleasure.  The Royal was internationally renowned and was the launch pad for a number of now-famous actors and actresses.  Working there was a dream-come-true, and she hoped her passion and dedication wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially during the most important week of the year.

*  *  *

Natalya rolled out of bed on wobbly legs.  She sat on the toilet for a minute, peeing, yawning, then stood at the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. 

Even though she was exhausted, she looked cute, in a tired sort of way, she thought.  She leaned in for a closer look. 

She didn’t understand why she was still single.  There was nothing wrong with her, after all, quite the contrary. 

She had bobbed, wavy blond hair, the smoothest skin, iridescent blue eyes. 

Her mouth was small and soft and her lips a light pink.  Stroking her hair and face, she tried to remember what it felt like when a man did this to her. 

She missed the touch of strong, big hands that made her feel even more tender and feminine than she already was. 

She took off her nightgown, went to the big mirror in the living room and looked at her body. 

Silky skin from head to toe made everybody go crazy when they first touched her.  Her breasts were large for her frame, a full C-cup.  Perfect size for her taste and as far as she knew, men loved her breasts. 

A small waist and round hips, little belly.  Long and slender arms and legs.  Perfect firmness, thanks to her hobby - she loved to dance and practiced regularly. 

She took a deep breath as she felt the tears well up.  She missed the gaze of a man who looked at her in excitement. 

“Stop it, now,” she scolded herself.  “Breathe and focus.  You need to concentrate on your work now.  Romance will have to wait!”  She dried her eyes and hurried to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee and get ready for work. 

CHAPTER TWO

She arrived late, of course, but thank God nobody noticed.  In the cafeteria, she bumped into one of the dramaturges (theater workers) -- a flamboyantly gay stage hand named Carlos – who was already going crazy.  Not because of the festival, but because of all the students who were set to arrive, particularly the young men. 

“Natalya!” he said he saw her.  “Just imagine, the theatre will be full of hot guys from all around the world!  I’ve seen the pictures online!  I’m in love with a dozen of them already!  I’m going to call dibs!”

She bit her tongue to keep from smiling.  She gave him a scolding look instead.  “Oh my God, Carlos, are you serious? How can you think about sex when the festival is about to begin and there’s so much work left to do?”

Carlos shot her a sly look.  “I know there’s still a lot of work to do. Doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize, does it?”

He pinched her cheek and laughed. 

“Come on, Natalya, enjoy!” he said, clapping his hands merrily.  “That’s the best part of a festival like this.  You get to meet new people and have a great time with them and everyone goes home happy!  So relax!”  He gave her a funny look.  “In fact, I think you could use a good roll in the hay yourself.  You’re so tense… When was the last time you got laid?”

“None of your business!” she said, slapping at him.  “Go on, find something to do before you get us both in trouble!”

Natalya smiled as she watched him go.  She loved Carlos.  He was probably her best friend in the theater.  He was so carefree, so unafraid to dream, and so unashamed of who he was and what he wanted out of life.

She had made friends with him her first day there and now she tried to pick up on his good mood and positive energy. 

Maybe he was right.  Maybe she should relax a little and just look forward to seeing all the amazing shows and meeting a bunch of amazingly talented artists. 

And maybe Carlos was right.  Maybe she should scope out the guys and have a little fun during the festival.  You never know, she told herself.  Still, she was skeptical.

She was also worried a fling might get her fired if the theater director found out. 

What would it look like if she, a mere intern, got involved with one of the guests at the festival? 

No way, she thought.  It’s just not worth the risk.

CHAPTER THREE

Natalya ran to her office and found a note from her boss that he would meet her at the reception.  She sat in her desk chair, switched on her computer, and pretended to work on the event schedule, but all she could think about was what Carlos had said. 

The students and guests would start arriving at 1pm.  She glanced at the clock on the wall.  She just had time to freshen up a bit before having to leave for the reception.

Again, her thoughts turned to Carlos’ comments.  “You get to meet new people,” she heard him say.  Maybe he was right.  Maybe she would meet someone and have a wonderful time.

Or not.  Natalya had learned to never get her hopes up too high.

CHAPTER FOUR

Natalya didn’t relax until the visiting theatre companies arrived, finally.  There were actors, directors, dramaturges, stage hands, lighting technicians, sound and video people, and the studio was as full to bursting point. 

Natalya retreated to one of the corners of the room to watch the procession.  She was kind of disappointed. 

The group didn’t look as spectacular as Natalya had imagined after Carlos’ outburst with excitement. 

But then she noticed one guy who looked like he didn’t belong.  First she caught sight of his leather jacket, then of his red hair. 

He looked somewhat older than the rest. 

Who could he be?

Natalya studied him carefully.  He stood near the entrance, smiling politely, but didn’t speak to anybody. 

The others were chattering, screaming, laughing, improvising, showing off.  Yet, he just stood there, with his well-worn leather jacket and beautiful red hair. 

Natalya couldn’t take her eyes off him.  She wondered if he was a student, though he looked to old.  Maybe he was a stage hand, or maybe even a director or teacher. 

No, for a teacher he was too young. 

Or an actor, maybe?  That was it.  He had the intense look of a great actor.

He was so different, so calm.  And still he had a presence that captivated Natalya and wouldn’t let go of her.  He reminded her of Vincent Cassel in one of his shadier roles. 

Natalya tried to imagine who the redhead was, which language he spoke, where he lived, and if he had a girlfriend. 

He probably didn’t have just one girlfriend, she guessed.  Many women would be attracted to such a man.  He was the lonesome cowboy-type she always fell for. 

Natalya was still caught up in her thoughts when the theater’s marketing director’s shrill voice tore her from her daydream.  Angela, was her name, and boy, was she bossy!

“Everybody, everybody listen!” Angela shouted, clapping her hands to get their attention.  God, how Natalya hated the sound of her voice.  Angela was a type AAA and a clear overachiever. 

She always got what she wanted, always got her way.  Angela was the complete opposite of Natalya: self-asserted, precise, dominant and overbearing. 

She greeted the students and press people and introduced the director, who then gave his speech. 

He welcomed them, told them about the theater and its history, and explained why this festival was so important, what luck they had to be able to meet interesting new people and artists and what that meant for their future. 

Natalya was too distracted to listen.  She looked for the redhead, but couldn’t find him at first.  When she caught sight of him, she motioned towards Carlos, who was standing in the corner, bright-eyed with excitement. 

“Carlos,” she whispered. 

“What?” he asked without looking her way.  He stood there with his lips slightly parted and Natalya wondered if he would start drooling soon. 

“Look over there, to the left.  Black leather jacket.  Red hair.  Do you have any idea who he is?”

Carlos narrowed his eyes to focus in on the guy.  He obviously was not his type as he didn’t show any form of interest and didn’t make one of his usual lewd comments. 

“No idea, why?”

“I was just wondering if he was one of the students or maybe a crew-member. 

“No idea, honey,” Carlos said, his eyes going around the room like a fat man at a buffet.  “Red heads aren’t my thing.  Are they yours?” 

Without waiting for an answer, he flitted away to talk to a tall German with blonde hair.

Natalya looked for the red headed stranger again and when her eyes found him, she said, “Maybe red heads aren’t your thing, Carlos, but they just might be mine.”