Commanded by the Billionaire (A Billionaire, Interracial Romance Bundle)
Single Black Mom’s Billionaire: He could have any woman in the world, but he chose a black single mom.
Melissa’s a single mother, struggling to pay the bills. Joe’s a billionaire politician, searching for answers about the deaths of his father and brother. Melissa doesn’t know that she’s an integral part to finding those answers.
After Melissa’s fired from her job, Joe asks her out on an impulsive date, offering her money for her company. Reluctant, she agrees to a shopping spree and dinner with this mysterious man. After being pampered, Melissa is swept off her feet and taken to a beautiful restaurant.
When she gets there, he makes a scandalous request that leaves her confused and conflicted. Will she give him what he wants, in exchange for a charmed life for her daughter? Will she sacrifice her morals for her child’s future? What would you do?
In this story you’ll find the following sexy themes:
- Oral sex
- Sex in a car
His Black Baby: Jealousy rules Tiffany’s life. Now she has a surefire way to get what she wants: a baby.
Even though Max comes from a wealthy family, his habits threaten to send him to the poorhouse. With Charlotte, he wanted to do everything right. Too bad she just isn’t interested in him after a big mistake. She uses him for pleasure, but doesn’t want anything more serious from him.
Imagine her surprise when she winds up pregnant!
Tiffany, on the other hand, has loved him since they met. Max only ever saw her as a friend, until one drunk night…
Now he has two bundles of joy on the way, and a messy life to clean up fast.
Downtown Girl Goes Down: The driver’s partition is up and Aviona’s in for the ride of her life!
Aviona kicked out her boyfriend. She fought off her friend’s ex. Now Bradley wants a date with her, but will they even make it to the restaurant?
Chances are they won’t, because she’ll be on her knees servicing him. She’s black, he’s white, but their differences aren’t important. All that’s important is that he wants to give her a better life, and she’s good with her mouth.
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“Ohmygosh I am so sorry!”
My apron, once perfectly clean and white, is now quickly staining an awful red-purple. The glass of wine that is not shattered on the stone floor threatens to slip into my shoes and make me suffer for its untimely demise. The errant hand that drunkenly tipped it over is trying to dab the red off of her dress, and then my apron. There’s no chance of her succeeding.
“No, don’t be!” I say, trying to sound cheerful through gritted teeth. I try to smile, but it’s more of a twitch. “I’ll be right back with a fresh glass for you. Remind me of the year?”
Dashing back into the kitchen, my mind screams at me. I want to stand up for myself! I want to tell that rich bitch out there what I think of her antics every time she comes in!
But then I consider how much money her dress cost, and the idea of that being garnished from my already pathetic wages… Oh, I feel sick.
The nausea is even worse when I think of my daughter back at home. Amanda, being watched by my saintly mother, growing up in anyone’s arms but my own because I have school loans and hospital bills to pay off. Thank God that Dad died before he could see me struggling like this, before he could see me move back in with Mom.
Today hasn’t been the worst day of my life, but it’s certainly not the best. I woke up late and so I didn’t have time to straighten my wild hair. I had to settle for a flimsy hair tie and a sloppy bun, but glancing in a mirror as I pass by proves that I look as frazzled as I feel.
Then, my first customer demanded to see the manager because one of my untamed hairs fell into her steak. It didn’t really. It was her own hair, but no one believed me!
And now this. Now I need a new apron, and I know my manager is going to dock my pay for it. I grab one from the hooks as I pass into the wine cellar to pour the clumsy woman a new glass. By the time I take it back out to her, the bus boy has swept up the broken glass and once the woman is nursing her new glass I’m seating a new customer in record time.
This one, a man, is alone. “Will you be joined by anyone tonight, sir?” I ask, brushing my hair out of my face. I think I feel a zit forming on my forehead.
“Yes, in a few minutes, but I suspect she won’t be staying long. Just bring out two glasses of water and one menu, for me. Thank you, dear.”
He’s older, maybe 50, but his hair is all black and there’s barely a wrinkle on his face. What signs there are of his age simply make him look interesting, not old. He has the face of someone who belongs on TV. The restaurant I work in is near DC, so he could be a politician, maybe. Now wouldn’t that be something?
Ah, what am I doing, getting flustered over someone I’ll never be able to talk to. He probably barely even sees me as a human being. Let’s get real, everyone who eats at La Coste is rich and snobby and looks down at me no matter what I do. I knew that when I got hired.
The only thing that keeps me going, that keeps me working here, are the tips and Amanda’s beautiful face. I know she needs new school shoes for gym, and she’ll be turning 10 soon. She’s a lot like her mommy. Black, proud of her heritage, and sporting a bit of an attitude.
For some reason, I feel compelled to bow before turning to leave. Ah, hell, why did I do that? I can hear his chuckles chasing me into the back room. I grab two glasses and start to pour the water when I feel a presence behind me. I turn my head just enough to see my manager out of the corner of my eyes. Fat Pete, as we call him. Behind his back, of course. Never to his fat face. He takes up most of the small hallway where the water pitcher and glasses are.
“Yes, Peter?” I say, trying to keep my voice pleasant. I don’t necessarily fail at it.
“We need to talk.”