ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: Basketball Daddy (BWWM Alpha Male Billionaire Pregnancy Romance) (African American Unexpected Pregnant Contemporary Romance) (70 page)

Monday

I leave through the main door, the taste of Lola’s honeypot in my mouth and her access card in my pocket. I find a bench outside in a dark corner, near the parking lot, and perch myself on it. I like how Lola tasted, and she smelled nice too. There was something very familiar about her. I feel like a hero in one of those sappy movies who gets the feeling that he knows the woman and falls in love. I’m not in love with Lola. I know there isn’t anything like love at first sight, or at all — being alive for three centuries teaches you that. I’m waiting for her to leave, and as I do, I can't stop thinking about her familiar face: her big, brown, almond shaped eyes; her oval shaped face; her slightly stubbed nose; her faintly pink lips. She hadn’t smiled even once in the time I’d spent with her, hadn’t looked at me. It felt weird and degrading somehow. How can a girl you are hooking up with not care about what you look like? Isn’t it all about looks and money these days? She certainly wasn’t getting any money from me. And then I find myself rather unsettled when I start thinking that maybe she didn’t give a shit about me. How could that be? Why was it that she hadn’t even replied when I’d said, ‘See you soon’? Not that I intended to see her again.

It is four in the morning when she leaves. I see her walk out in her casual clothes, a shawl wrapped around her to fend off the morning chill. Her straight, jet black hair flies in all directions and she tries pushing it out of her face unsuccessfully, then wraps her shawl around her head like a Hijabi woman. She seems like a creature of a different kind in the way she does things. She doesn’t look around, but heads straight towards the bus station. I see her get on the bus and keep my eyes fixed on her until the bus disappears into the distance.

Then I pull my hood lower to hide my face, and go back into the hospital, careful not to get noticed. Taking the elevator down to the basement, I use her access card to enter the corridor opposite the morgue, where the blood bank is. I pull out a cold packet from the fridge and tear off the top, then stand with my back against the wall and sip, relishing the taste. I wonder who the blood belonged to, which makes me wonder if humans think about where the water they drink comes from. I don’t realize how thirsty I am until I have downed three packets of blood. Then I realize I haven't brought a bag with me, so I stuff as many packets as I can into my shirt and make for the back exit, knowing I’ll have to come back again.

The night is over by the time I step outside the hospital. You can’t tell, because the sky is still dark, but I can feel it in the way that only a vampire can. There’s this hot feeling on your skin, like the one you get when you step outside an air-conditioned room during summer. I make straight for the Fort before the sun can rear its ugly head, deposit the blood packs in the blood bank and go straight to bed. We don’t really sleep, we just lie in our beds with our eyes closed or open. Gone are the days of having to sleep in coffins, although I believe some vampires still do that. The Fort doesn’t let the sun in, so you can keep earth hours too if you want, although you can’t leave during the daytime, so anyone who does that has to just stay inside the walls of the Fort.

The sleep time is a sort of self-induced stupor. You turn off the lights, get into bed and embrace the darkness. You can either keep your mind empty and not think about anything as time passes, or you can think about life and all that. I usually don’t think about anything because there isn’t much for me to think about, but today I think about her. In my dark room, all I see is her beautiful face swishing past me over and over. Oddly enough, this face is smiling, but I know it isn’t real, because Lola hadn’t smiled even once.

When I wake up, it’s around eight in the evening. I take a shower to wash my hair and wipe the dust off my skin — there’s no need to shower otherwise, as we don’t stink or shed skin. Instead of the robber look of the previous night, I get dressed properly. Pairing black jeans with a dark maroon shirt, I finish the look with a blazer and check myself out in the mirror. I put on some cologne as well, just in case things get hot. All this is just to make sure I get Lola’s interest. For someone who’s had more than their fair share of women, it is very unnerving to find one who doesn’t fancy you. Perhaps the new look will make her swoon, who knows. It isn’t like I am making all this effort for her attention, though. I do need to go and rob the blood bank today.

I take the car and reach the hospital at about eleven. The hospital seems busy, as usual, but there aren’t too many people there, nothing like last night. My eyes immediately dart towards the desk and search for Lola. I can’t see her at first, but then I notice her lying back in her chair behind the desk, hidden behind two fat receptionists. Her eyes are closed and it appears that she has drifted into another world, but I can’t go to her just yet. I get the backpack out of my car, head for the back entrance and make straight for the blood bank. Filling the bag to the brim, I run back and empty it in the ice-filled trunk of my car, then go back for a second round. You can’t rob too much from the same bank or they increase the security, so I stop after two rounds. I light a cigarette and pace around the hospital. Across from the bus station is a giant billboard: a hot Asian woman wearing a black silk dress is lying on a couch, a perfume in her hands. It’s Mayumi May, with her stupid perfume that costs a fortune, and I wonder whether people pay for the fragrance or her face. Victoria, my sister, loves that perfume, though.

At around one in the morning, I go straight through the doors to Lola. I have a plan. I’m on top of my game.

“Hello,” I say, leaning over the desk.

She’s sitting there reading some magazine. Without a glance, she points to the side, towards the other receptionists.

“Hello, I am Penny Morgan. How may I help?” asks an old lady.

“I’m here for her,” I say.

“There’s a man here to see you, Lola,” Penny says. She winks at me and gives Lola the ‘you-got-a-date’ look. Lola puts down the magazine and looks at me impatiently, ready to get back to her magazine. It’s really offensive that she finds the magazine more interesting than me, when I’m pretty sure I blew her mind last night.

“What?” Lola says.

“Hi!” I say.

She makes an annoyed face, shaking her head slightly, her hair swishing. “What can I help you with, and who are you?”

I gesture with a finger for her to come closer, and whisper in her ear, “We were in the basement last night, remember?”

She looks at me, eyes me up and down as if appraising me. A surprised look crosses her face for a second, then disappears behind a scowl. “What are you doing here? Why are you here?”

“I just came back to give you this,” I say, returning her card.

“That’s good of you, thanks. I owe you one.”

“Well, would you like to go for coffee with me?”

“I am working, sorry,” she says.

“I could bring it here and we could sit in my car and drink. Does that work?”

She looks at Penny, who is blushing for her, as if her maiden daughter has finally found a man and she couldn’t be happier. “I can manage, you go,” she says.

“I’ll go get the coffee,” I say, making a run for the nearest Starbucks.

Tuesday

When I look at him, the first thing that comes to my mind is ‘Fuck, he’s gorgeous! A freaking British prince.’ Short, dark blonde hair, almost porcelain white skin with a light stipple of blue veins visible underneath, golden stubble on his chiseled jaw and lips so pink it looks like he is wearing a lipstick. Dang, how had I missed looking at that face so completely? I realize Penny is talking to me.

“What?”

“I was asking who he is?” she says.

“Who is who?”

“The guy who was here.”

“Oh, he’s just a guy I know. I met him last night, that’s all.”

“It didn’t look like that was all,” she says, begging for details.

“I am afraid that really is all. Drop it, Penny.”

I see him walk in with two coffees in a tray. Leaving my desk, I get up to join him, and we walk out into the parking lot and find a bench.

“What did you tell me your name was? Waldo?”

“Wow,” he says, pouting. “Valnoir.”

“Oh yeah, yes.”

“So, what’s your deal?” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“What’s with your ‘I don’t care about anything in the world’ attitude?”

“I don’t have that attitude,” I state. “I am a very busy person, so stop assuming things.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands. “Don’t kill me with your death stare.”

“Let’s finish this quickly, I’m cold.”

“Well, we can go sit in my car.”

“It’s fine here,” I tell him.

“Come on,” he pleads, grabbing my hand. “My car has comfortable seats.” I don’t resist and just follow him. When we get inside, he turns on the heater. The panel in the front of his Mercedes lights up, casting a blue light over us.

I sip my coffee and start feeling woozy suddenly. The feeling is like that of booze, except that I have sleep tugging at me hard. He starts his car, leaves the parking lot and gets on the main road.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Sleep,” he says.

“I have to get back to work.”

“Just relax,” he whispers, putting his arm on my thigh, caressing it gently.

“Where…we…” I think I mumble something before I pass out.

***

I wake up in a small bedroom. The musty, stale smell in the air makes it feel like a cellar, but there is a window on the wall so I know that it isn’t. The bathroom door opens and Valnoir steps out, soaking wet and naked. He looks taller than he did the night before. It feels like he grows a little every time I see him. His body is well-defined: he is toned and has a six pack, although most of his chest is hidden behind a spray of golden hair. It looks imposing when he is dressed, and gorgeous when he is naked. I want to ask him why he brought me here, where I was and whether he drugged me. I have a feeling that he did.

“Morning. I didn’t know you’d be awake,” he says casually, making no move to cover himself up. My eyes dart between his face and his manhood, deciding which thing I want more. He walks toward me as I try to force myself up. As I put my feet on the floor, sitting up in the bed, he stands right in front of me, his cock only inches from my face.

“Are you hungry or something? There’s food downstairs.”

I am hungry, but I can’t resist the thing in front of me. I push my fingers into his chest hair, pulling him closer with the other hand. Cupping his balls, I take his flaccid cock in my mouth. I feel the blood rushing into it as it starts springing to life in my mouth.

“Whoa!” he yelps, then starts humming happily as I work my mouth. “Works for me.”

With gentle thrusts, he fucks my mouth. I have a strong gag reflex, but it is dead right now, probably because of whatever was in the drink.

“Lie down,” he tells me. As I get back down, he pulls me to the end of the bed, my head at the foot, hanging off it. He stands there and towers over me, guiding his cock back into my mouth. He tugs at my trousers and pulls them down along with my underwear, putting his mouth on my crotch.

“You are so ready for a pounding,” he says. “Want me inside you?” I don’t answer because his cock is fixed inside my mouth. When he pulls out, I wrap my fingers around it and start sucking his balls. They are big and heavy, but he likes it and hums as I work my mouth. I can feel the stretched skin of his scrotum overflowing with sperm, begging for release.

Taking his cock back in my mouth, I kick off my trousers and spread my legs. He pulls out and pulls my shirt off me, then gets back on the bed and leans back with his back against the headboard. I climb on top of him. “You are really gorgeous,” I whisper to him seductively, and he smiles, hooking a finger in my brassiere and kissing me lightly. I grab the headboard and guide his cock into my pussy, slowly taking in all 7 inches of him. He is the perfect size for me, filling me completely and snugly.

“Hold me,” I tell him, guiding his hands to my sides, and then I hold his shoulders tight and start riding him. I close my eyes and lean back my head as I jump up and down on him. When he starts moaning I look at him and see him looking at me. Our eyes lock, and I feel like I am drowning in the luscious forest of his stone green eyes. He pushes his fingers into my hair and runs them down to the ends, pulling me close. Fixing his mouth on my lower lip, he holds me in place and pushes his tongue into my mouth. He wraps his other arm around me and pulls me closer, my large breasts pressing into him. I move my waist to and fro, up and down, feeling his rock hard cock massage my insides.

When he starts moaning, I ask, “Are you close?”

“Not at all,” he says, pushing me back and pulling out. He gets off the bed and pulls me back to the end. He grabs my legs and pushes them back and I wrap my arms around them, baring my ass and pussy to him. He gets up and stands over the bed, pushing my legs further back so my pussy is in the air. Then he pushes back inside me and starts thrusting heavily with superhuman speed and strength.

“Ahhhh, hot damn…ahh….slow…down…” I pant between his thrusts.

“Can’t handle a man?”

“Can’t handle vampires,” I say. “Fuck me hard but slow down to human speed.”

“You know,” he says, pulling halfway out and then forcing all the back in.

“Why else would you be stealing from the blood bank?” I state. “Ah, ah, ah, ahh…”

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, pulling out completely.

“Of you? Nah, I can handle vampires.” He thrusts back in, grinding his groin. “Ahhh, Jesus, I’m close.”

“You just said you can’t handle vampires,” he says. “Conflicted?”

“Shut up and fuck me already and make me orgasm, then we’ll talk.”

He pulls out again, picks me up and pushes inside me as he pushes me against a wall. I wrap my legs around him and balance my hands on his shoulders as he forces his cock inside me in one swift thrust, his hard abs and golden hair brushing against my stomach. My ass slaps against the wall as he pounds me, his balls slapping underneath him, the sound turning us both on even more. He comes inside me and then puts me back on the bed. I get up and suck his cock off, swallowing the remaining juice.

He gets back on top of me and starts tonguing my belly button, leaving a wet trail up to my tits. He plays with one while sucking on the other, twirling his thumb on my nipples. And then it hits me. I am having sex with this super hot vampire, and if it continues I will fall for him and he won’t fall for me. He is hot and sexy, like Tom Cruise meets Joe Manganiello meets Joseph Morgan. And I am not even close to what models look like. I am a healthy woman with a big booty and big tits, nothing else. Why would he like me? I want to leave before he dumps me or says something I don’t wanna hear.

“I have to go,” I say, trying to push him off me.

“I am not done yet,” he says.

“I don’t care, just get off me. I need to go home.”

He stops sucking my tit and looks at me. “Home? You think you are going back home?”

“What do you mean?”

“My dear, you aren’t leaving this place.”

“Funny,” I say dryly. “Very macho, now drop the alpha act.” I try to pull my knees up to throw him off, but he has a tight grip on me. Vampires are very strong. “Fucking move, Walter.”

“It’s Valnoir,” he says. “And you’re not walking out on me.” He returns his mouth to my nipple and bites lightly. He is being careful not to hurt me, I can tell.

“I just have to go,” I say, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t be a little bitch with a tiny ego.”

“We’ll see who the bitch is,” he says, grabbing my wrists and pushing his already hard cock inside me again. I try to push him away but it feels so good that I don’t want him to stop.

“Like that, don’t you? Who’s the little bitch now?”

I can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I want him, so I continue pushing him off me lightly, but it’s hard when my body is having such a great time that it can’t help but respond to the pounding. He comes inside me again.

“I’ll show you your place, bitch. I’ll put you where you belong.”

“And where is that?” I ask.

“In the Harem.”

As soon as I am dressed, he grabs my arm and tries to take me downstairs.

“Let go of me,” I say fighting him off, trying to remember if my grandmother had taught me any spells that dealt with vampires. I should have paid more attention, but my mother hadn’t exactly encouraged me to learn witchcraft.

As he drags me down the stairs and I struggle to set myself free, I see a woman on the stairs. She looks like a character from the 18
th
century, all regal and dainty.

“Let her go,” she says. “The poor soul looks terrified.”

“Mind your own business, Victoria.”

“As a member of this house, this is my business,” she says with an air of superiority. I almost think she is going to come and rescue me, but she doesn’t move from her place.

“Do shut up,” Valnoir tell hers, and drags me downstairs. I look at the Victoria woman with pleading eyes, but she just walks away.

I don’t know how many flights of stairs we take, but it must be pretty deep because it is all cold down here. The basement isn’t a cellar or anything depressing, though. It looks like a hotel, well-lit and decorated. He unlocks a room and pushes me inside, then locks it and leaves.

The room is large, very long, with a lot of four-poster beds. Some of them have the curtains drawn, some have them folded. I can hear moaning, sounds of women getting fucked, groans of pleasure as some beds bang against the wall, women orgasming, and it makes me sick. I feel like I am in a brothel.

A few women come running to me but stand at a safe distance and whisper amongst themselves. I stand quietly, waiting for them to speak. Then one of them says, “She’s with the prince!” The rest of them all go ‘awww’ and look at me as if I am someone really important.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You came in with Prince Valnoir, didn’t you?”