Dark BWWM Romance Books | Purchased For Pregnancy FREE Sample
It’s about time I make an announcement about Book #2. Book #1 in the series, Purchased For Submission is live now and tells the story of Fallon and Stavros. Want to know more about them? You can get updates in this book. But mainly, this book is about single father Loukas Pagonis and his daughter’s best friend, Tisha West.
Tisha is a beautiful, 18-year-old and the last person on earth Loukas Pagonis expected to end up with… especially when losing his last FOUR partners under mysterious circumstances.
I’ve posted some chapters on my Patreon already (they get the first look) and so far, readers are LOVING the chapters. The taboo romance between Loukas and Tisha makes their chemistry even HOTTER and you can tell that they’ll have to get through some MESS to have their HEA.
Keep reading to check out the first chapter…
Eager for the story already?
Purchased For Pregnancy | April 10th 2021
Purchased For Pregnancy FREE Excerpt | Chapter #1
“Papa!” Carlotta shrieks from the boat deck, “Papa! It’s Stavros!”
I don’t want to go above deck because if I go above deck, I’ll have to face her. Not Carlotta. Her brown-skinned friend, Tisha West. She looks nothing like Stavros’ woman, despite the Greek conviction that all those with African skin tones look the same. She has full lips and she’s slighter of frame with smaller breasts and a much larger ass. She’s lying on my pool deck right now and Carlotta lent her one of the tiny pink thong bikinis I told her to throw away. My daughter never listens.
I poke my head up the stairs.
“Stavros?”
“He’s on the phone.”
I run up the stairs and avoid looking at the girl lying to my left, covered in tanning oil. What the hell does she need tanning oil for? The girl is one of the darkest I’ve ever seen. I’d like to look at her again. Even if looking at her makes me a sick old man. She’s my daughter’s age. And I’m... a murderer. I snatch the phone from Carlotta. I left it upstairs for a reason. I don’t want to talk to my brother.
“What do you want?” I snap.
Fuck. It’s my young sister, Helen. Some idiot ex-boyfriend of hers got it in his head that he could raid our family villa and he somehow made it past Galanos, Papa and Antonio. Stavros just got there to clean up their mess, but not before the idiot ex-boyfriend could get her. He shot Helen. I hang up and toss the phone to Carlotta.
“What is it, Papa?”
“We need to go. I’m taking us back to shore.”
“Papa! I’m working on my tan with Tisha!”
Carlotta pouts, her red lips jutting forward as she points to Tisha, asleep on the boat deck, lying on her stomach with her big bum exposed. I swear, if a Pagonis woman dressed like that, I would be the first to smack her. Carlotta wears a more conservative two-piece swimsuit and only because she didn’t talk to me for several days when I burned her Louis Vuitton bikini.
“Your brother’s in trouble. Your aunt has been shot.”
“Cassia?”
“No. Helen. Now get up and wake your friend.”
Carlotta snaps, “She has a name papa. You never want to acknowledge her. I understand if YiaYia is racist, but you have no excuse.”
“Damn it, Carlotta. I don’t need to argue with you.”
She folds her arms and pops her hip. It’s like my twenty year old daughter is a teenager. We bring the worst out of each other.
“You’re a chauvinist, papa! A dirty chauvinist. You think women are objects because you’re a filthy old man and I HATE you!”
“You hate me? I pay your bloody tuition from the sweat of my brow.”
“Don’t test me, papa!”
“I buy every fucking thing you own you little brat.”
She gasps.
“I hate you! Why don’t you do what you always do and push me overboard. Put me in the fucking sea where you put mama.”
Tisha’s nervous American accent rises above my daughter’s clatter. I hate fighting with Carlotta. She looks too much like me — blue eyes and hair the color of coffee beans.
“Carlotta? Is everything okay?”
She rolls over and I can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse that I can no longer see her ass in that thong bikini. The view from the front feels less lewd somehow. Her thighs cover her crotch but her soft, smooth stomach draws my attention with a piercing through her navel. She’s so young, like Carlotta. I don’t like young women, I remind myself. I’m forty-one years old and much too old for a girl my daughter’s age. I’m much to old to go after a girl like this and have her end up dead.
Carlotta glowers at me as she answers her friend.
“I’m fine. My dad’s just a total loser.”
Carlotta storms off downstairs and I storm off to the railing. Fuck. I am such a shitty parent. Ana would have known what to do with the children. I met her when Carlotta was fifteen and she wanted to be a mother. My kids didn’t scare her. Then she got pregnant. After she gave birth to Zoe, she died. Murder, like all the others. I sent Zoe away to live with her aunt after Matilda.
I corrupted the other children already but Zoe doesn’t have to turn out just another fucked up Pagonis. Carlotta will never forgive me for sending her sister away. Fuck. Not even the fucking ocean can make me feel better. I feel a small hand on my shoulder and jerk back thinking it’s Carlotta returning to slap me in the face. It won’t be the first time Carlotta’s slapped me.
If YiaYia ever found out...
I tell myself that I won’t let my grandmother hurt my children the way she fucked up Stavros or Galanos. Or me. As the eldest boy, I was her favorite for a while. But YiaYia prefers Galanos. He’s more cruel. The hand on my shoulder is Tisha’s and I turn around with such a fierce look on my face that she jumps back.
“Sorry, Mister Pagonis,” she says with a soft voice. She has a beautiful American accent with a voice that’s more breath than force.
“It’s fine. You startled me. Enjoying the boat?”
“Oh, this is awesome. I love the ocean. Greece is so beautiful. It’s way better than Brooklyn.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Uh huh.”
“Hm.”
I don’t know what to say to her. She’s too beautiful. I’ve never been skilled at talking to beautiful women and Tisha isn’t just a beautiful woman. She’s young. A ruby pendant hangs around her neck drawing my eye to her ample breasts.
And she’s wearing a bathing suit that no Greek man in his right mind would have ever let his daughter run out in — at least when I was a young man. Granted, I haven’t been a young man for a long time.
“I heard you and Carlotta fighting. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“You’re more worried about me than your friend?”
I instantly regret the question. It’s too forward. The question itself is nearly flirtatious. She leans against the railing next to me, her breasts nearly falling out of that tiny bikini top. I will myself not to stare at this young woman’s breasts even if temptation menaces me.
“Don’t tell Carlotta I said this but... she’s rude to you sometimes. She doesn’t appreciate all this stuff. I’d kill for a boat.”
My heart swells with pride. Every parent wants that acknowledgement from their kids. Every bullshit job I do for my father, every gun I’ve ever sold, I’ve done it so my children can have a better life. Carlotta doesn’t see it that way. Unlike Tisha, she sees more than the boats, the villas and the cars. She sees the darker side of our Thessaloniki wealth.
“No need to kill. Just work hard and one day, you may afford one.”
The statement is the boldest lie I’ve told all week. But I have to set a good example for the girl.
Papa gave me the boat when I killed three men at seventeen, long before Tisha was a twinkle in her father’s nutsack. My response provokes a laugh from Tisha. Her whole body moves when she laughs. Her smile is fucking beautiful and her breasts... She squeezes them up against the railing, trying to lean over and catch the sea breeze in her curls but inadvertently making my cock rise to attention.
Hey, asshole, there’s a beautiful woman standing next to you and you haven’t gotten any in months!
Thessaloniki street walkers don’t count. I have needs but... I’d prefer one woman. But I’m better now.
Not completely better because I stare at Tisha’s breasts and think about her nipples.
Yiayia claims I have the Pagonis curse — excessive virility she calls it. YiaYia will believe anything as long as it makes the Pagonis name look or sound good. She thinks we’re Gods.
I realize I’m awkwardly silent and worse... I’m staring.
I wet my lips and realize something far worse than my erect cock or my lecherous gaze. Tisha notices. She stands up straight and adjusts her top so those marvelous plump breasts escape my view.
“I’m going to check on Carlotta, Mister Pagonis,” Tisha mumbles awkwardly.
Fuck. The first chance I had to get close to her and I blow it by being a lecherous and perverted old man, staring at his daughter’s best friend. I watch her disappear below deck. She’s already seen me staring. It can’t hurt to look at her ass...
Look at me. I’m a sicko. My sister’s hurt and I’m thinking about a woman. Maybe YiaYia’s right about men. We’re too easy to manipulate. And I know Tisha’s name. I just can’t bear to say it because of what happened. What was all my fault...
What do you think? Let me know what you think of this sample in the comment section below. Have you read Book #1 yet? I look forward to reading your comments here.