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Bastard’s Baby

By:B. B. Hamel

Bastard’s Baby



A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance





B. B. Hamel




Prologue





The lights were down low in the club when I first saw her.

She was shaking her ass like there was no fucking tomorrow. She looked across the crowded room at me, and I felt my cock stiffen as she smiled.

I couldn’t stop myself. I made my way across the crowd, pressed myself against her, and let her grind herself against me.

She was just another club slut that night. I didn’t know her from anywhere else. The only thing I saw was a tight dress, long, thick hair, and a full ass that kept moving for hours.

“What’s your name?” I whispered in her ear.

“No names tonight,” she said.

I grinned at her. “Even better.”

We danced for hours together like that, sweating, bodies pressed close, practically fucking on the dance floor. I was basically tearing through my fucking pants, hard as all hell, by the time the club was closing.

Back in the cab, I whispered in her ear. “I want to see how soaked that pussy is. I want to see if that ass can shake on my big cock.”

She smiled, and as soon as we got into my apartment, she proved that her hips were good for more than just dancing.

She took my cock like a pro, sliding her tight pussy down along my shaft. The way she threw her head back, moaning loudly as I pressed myself deeper and deeper, drove me insane.

Those moans haunted me for months afterward.

I worked her body, hard and fast, making her beg for what she wanted. I wanted her to say my name, over and over, but we weren’t using names that night.

No, we were just pure animals fucking because we were young and beautiful.

There had been plenty of women before her, but none lived up to her. My nameless girl, the one with the perfect mouth, round, firm tits, and an ass that rode my dick like she couldn’t get enough.

And then in the morning, after hours of sweating and fucking and moaning, she was gone.

My cock still hummed with the pleasure from her perfect, tight cunt. It drove me wild lying in bed and remembering what she did.

I never knew her name, never found it out. Not that night, at least. One night was all we had, or so I thought.

My nameless girl. I never stopped thinking about her, not once.

I never slowed down, either. When you worked for the mob, you didn’t have time to wonder what if. I was too busy with my gun, running my crew, working my way up through the ranks to try to find this nameless girl.

There were plenty of other club sluts out there in the world, and I had my taste of all of them.

Blood, money, and pussy. That was all I knew and all that I needed in my life. I was aiming to take over the city one day, and nothing could stop me or get in my way.

And months later when she showed up at my door again, a crying bundle in her arms, I still couldn’t forget that night.





1





Kaley





“He’s so cute!”

I smiled at Sophie. “Yeah, I know.” I took another picture of little Alexei, nestled in his crib, and sighed. “But Dad is still pissed.”

“I was going to ask you about that.” Sophie sat down in a chair, crossed her legs. She was about my height, and we’d known each other for ages. Her dad worked for my dad, so we’d been raised more or less like sisters.

“Is he still pushing?” she asked.

I nodded. “More every day.”

“I can’t believe him.”

“He thinks it’s a stain on our family’s honor.” I sat down on the ground at Sophie’s feet, leaning back on my hands.

“Still, that can’t be enough to make you give him up.”

“I’m not going to give him up, Soph,” I said. “That just won’t ever happen.”

“You know how our family can be,” she said softly.

“They’re not going to take him away,” I said fiercely. “I don’t care what my father says.”

She leaned forward and put her hand on my head. “I know that, Kaley. But listen to me. I heard my dad talking last night.”

I felt coldness enter my stomach. Sophie’s father was the enforcer for my father’s crew within the Russian mob. He was a hard man, violent and dangerous, and although he was like a second father to me, I knew he was deadly. People spoke of him with respect, fear, and awe.

“And?”

“He was talking about you.”

I stared at her. “Tell me, Soph.”

“I only heard my father’s side of the conversation.” She leaned back in her chair, concern clear on her face. “I think they’re coming for Alexei soon. I think they’re coming tomorrow.”

“What?” I asked, standing up. “No.”

“It’s just what he said,” Soph replied. “He said he could take care of the brat tomorrow.”

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