Born To Sin (Born #1) Read online

  Born To Sin

  By

  A.L. Simpson

  Born To Sin

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2016 by A.L. Simpson

  Thank you for purchasing this book. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author and publisher. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoy this book, then please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexual content, an m/m scene and language suitable only for those 18+

  “Hate the Sin, Love the Sinner”

  Nelson Mandela

  Chapter One

  HAMISH

  “Hamish, for the love of God, get your fingers out and fuck me,” Caroline cries as I bring her to the edge.

  Performing moves that would have made an acrobat proud, I grab a condom from the nightstand and rip it open with my teeth. The whole time I’m finger fucking her. Enough to keep her wet but not enough to have her come.

  I withdraw my fingers from her pussy, lick the sweet juices dripping from my fingers and sheath myself.

  After flipping her onto her belly and pulling her up onto all fours, I slam into her cunt. She squeals as I penetrate her with an almighty thrust. She likes it rough which is good, I’ve never been gentle. Girls know what to expect from the bad boy chef when they join me in bed. Let’s get something else clear. I fuck. I don’t make love.

  Her hands fist in the sheets as I push her toward that worshipped edge.

  “Fuck I’m coming.” My dick is screaming for release. My balls are tucked up tight. I grip her hips and with two more almighty thrusts, we fall over the edge together. Hot cum fills my condom.

  “Shit, that was good.” Caroline sighs as I pull out of her and roll over. “Can we go out? Will you stay the night?”

  “Nope. Gotta work.” I slide off the bed and pad to the bathroom across the hall. It’s as bad as the rest of Caroline’s apartment. Broken and cracked tiles, years of filth discoloring the grout, the bathtub so stained I wouldn’t even think to lower my ass onto the grime. Peeling paint like the other rooms, torn vinyl on the floors. Not unlike my place two blocks away. Well, I at least keep my place clean.

  Most of the apartment blocks in the ’hood are run down, squalid hovels. The apartments haven’t seen maintenance in years because, unless you live in the ’hood, you don’t come here. Crimes are committed every hour, screaming, gun shots, rats in the filth ridden streets. It’s all a common sight to us natives of the area. It’s why I want to get out of here. Why I’m desperate to live somewhere decent with decent people. I’ve tried to rent in an area closer to work. A nice ‘burb close to the city. The realtors take one look at my references, note where I’ve been living and tell me the place is taken. It doesn’t matter that I clean up nice before I go and see them. It doesn’t matter that I’ve managed to get myself an education and have been working as a chef at a prestigious city restaurant. Nope, once a ’hood boy, always a ’hood boy as far as they’re concerned. It is impossible to rid myself of the stigma. Once I would have worn it as a badge of honor, now I want something better.

  I dispose of the condom and return to the bedroom.

  Caroline is stretched out on the bed like a contented cat. Fuck, she’s got a gorgeous body.

  “Why won’t you stay? Even when you don’t have to work, you won’t stay.”

  I hate the whining that has been happening lately. “Babe, I’ve told you. I don’t stay anywhere except my own bed in my own apartment. Alone.”

  She leans up on her elbow. “We’ve been going out for almost a month and all you’ve done is text me and order me to meet you here so you can make love to me.”

  I raise my hands in front of my still naked body. My dick is now flaccid, soft. Totally turned off with her whining. “How long have you lived in this neighborhood?” I watch her frown while she wonders why I’ve asked a question I already know the answer to.

  “Nine years.”

  “You know my reputation?”

  She lowers her eyes. “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “You fuck ’em and leave ’em.”

  “So, why do you ask if I’m staying the night?”

  Tears well in her eyes when she looks up at me. I sit on the bed and gather her hands into mine. “Babe, I’m no good. You don’t want someone like me who will keep you trapped here. You deserve someone with a decent job who can give you a nice home, clothes and kids. Someone who can take you away from this neighborhood and the dumps we live in. I can’t give you any of that.”

  “You have a good job. Leon’s is a high class, highly rated restaurant and you’re their Head Chef. You must be earning enough to leave here. You never take women out, your bike is a hundred years old. Why do you stay?”

  I stand up and jam my legs into my jeans before pulling on my trademark black t-shirt.

  “Hamish, answer me. I know we could be good for each other. We could get out of here together.”

  “Darlin’, it’s none of your fucking business why I stay.” I’m getting annoyed with her now. I sit on the end of the bed to pull on my socks and knee high motorcycle boots. I stand up, turn around and glare at her luscious body. I’m gonna miss those delicious curves but I can’t handle whining and women who demand what I won’t give.

  “I’m done.” I drag on my soft leather jacket and close the zipper.

  “What do you mean, you’re done?” Caroline sits up.

  I can see the alarm in her green eyes. Tears are welling. It doesn’t change a thing. I’m a heartless bastard like that. “It’s over. I’m done. I told you, no strings.” I pick up my keys, bag and helmet from the floor before heading for the door.

  She leaps off the bed and moves in front of me. Shit she can move fast. She clings to my jacket, stands on tiptoe and wraps her arms around my neck. “Hamish, please don’t do this.” The tears are falling now. I feel the wetness against the skin of my neck. I peel her away from me, kiss her forehead and leave the apartment. I can her anguished cries as I slam the door.

  I feel like a bastard but this is who I am. Everyone in my neighborhood knows, I’m a no good bastard.

  ***

  I tie my bag to the back of my Harley Davidson motorcycle, throw my leg over and settle onto the seat. I crank the engine. It flashes to life and idles with a rumble I never get tired of hearing. She’s my pride and joy. My only indulgence. The only thing I ever spend money on. I’ve customized her so she’s a perfect fit. Her sleek black and silver tank makes her look evil. Everyone in the ’hood knows who she belongs to and no-one would dare touch her. I run my hand over the tank before pulling on my helmet and gloves. I kick up the stand, place my feet on the pegs and ease away from the kerb.

  It’s late in the afternoon. Kids are playing basketball and football in the street. These kids are tough, they have to be growing up in the ’hood. They don’t move for anyone so I ease my bike around them.

  A little boy known only as Jonesy, runs up to me. “Ham, where ya goin’?” I barely hear him over the sound of my bike. I stop but leave the bike running.

  “Jonesy, what do you want? I’m on my way to work.”

  “Can ya bring me something, Ham? Ma is sick again.”

  Sick again means she’s passed out drunk and Jonesy won’t be getting dinner unless I bring leftovers home. This has been going on ever since they moved here two years ago. The
kid is seven years old but he’s small for his age and looks about five. I found him one night, not long after they came. He was rummaging in the garbage for something to eat. I sat him down and told him, if ever his ma couldn’t feed him he was to let me know. I’ve been feeding him nearly every night since. When I’m not working he comes down and watches television with me and I cook him a meal. He’s the reason I never stay anywhere overnight.

  “I’ll be late. I have the night shift so probably around eleven.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll listen for your bike.”

  I ruffle his hair before he runs off back to his friends. I watch him as he goes. He’s so much like I was as a kid. He’s barefoot, his clothes are threadbare and hang on his small frame. The kid is doomed if he doesn’t find someone to help him get out of here.

  Before I pull away, I turn back for one last look. The kid waves, a huge smile on his face. He has no idea how bad off he is. That’s the problem. It’s not until you step out of the neighborhood, you realize how bad you have it.

  “Fuckin’ nightmare.” I open the throttle, ease into traffic and head for the city.

  It’s a warm afternoon and I’m thankful for the wind in my face as I speed into the city. The traffic is heavy. It’s always heavy at three in the afternoon. Mothers are out picking kids up from school, probably to take to nice structured activities. Delivery vehicles clog the streets, shift workers are probably headed to their homes. A nice brick home with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, double garage and manicured lawns. Why are some kids born to a comfortable life while others, like me, are born to sin? No-one cares about us and we care about no-one.

  I turn off the main road and into the restaurant parking lot. I park the bike in the space reserved for the Head Chef. I cut the engine, swing my leg over the tank and grab my bag from the back. I stride to the side door marked ‘Staff Only’, key in the code and enter my workplace.

  In the kitchen, Wade, my senior chef, is busy slicing and dicing vegetables for some of the regular meals we have on the menu.

  “Ham.”

  “Wade, we got many bookings?”

  “Full house for six, eight and nine pm bookings. Seven is quieter. Gonna be busy.”

  I lift down my chef’s uniform from a peg on the wall. We’re not supposed to keep them in the kitchen, they’re supposed to be in the staff room, but we don’t care. It’s easier if they’re in here. Wade and I are always the first ones in. The restaurant opens at six and the rest will be in around five. If I pull the day shift. We open at eleven and I’m here by nine. I have three other senior chef’s I work with but I prefer Wade.

  He’s moved to stir a sauce for the lobster bisque, a popular dish. While he does this, he watches me tug off my boots and slip off my jeans.

  “Commando, again. Do you even own underwear?”

  Wade is gay and has been wanting to screw me for as long as I can remember. I always leave off underwear if I know he’s on. It gives him a thrill to see my cock in all its glory. “Nope. Got rid of it.” It’s a lie but he doesn’t need to know. “I like the freedom and it makes it faster to stick my dick into some girl.” Wade sighs as I pull on my check pants. His eyes have not left my cock.

  “It’s a shame you like women. What I could do with your dick.” He sighs again. “Long, thick. It makes my mouth water just thinking about you reaming my ass.”

  Normally I’d laugh. Wade says the same thing at least once a week. Tonight I’m annoyed about the break up with Caroline. “It’s not gonna happen. I’m into females only. I might have been dragged up by an alcoholic, drug dealing sonofabitch father but, I know for sure my cock doesn’t belong in a gay man’s ass. I’ll never be desperate enough to fuck a man.”

  Wades eyes fill with tears. I hate seeing him upset because he is one of the only people I do care about. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bastard. I broke up with Caroline.” I lean over and switch off the flame under the sauce before pulling him into my arms and stroking his back. He sheds silent tears that run down my bare chest. I can feel his cock trying to interest mine.

  “You’ll find someone who wants you as much as you want them and then you’ll forget about me.” I kiss his forehead before stepping away and gathering my tunic. His eyes are red and puffy from crying. Did I say, I feel like a cruel bastard?

  I fasten the buttons on my tunic and grab my steel capped safety shoes from my bag. I sit down and pull them on before moving to stand beside Wade. The flame is back on and he stirs the sauce in silence.

  “I’ll never forget about you. Your luscious body with ripples of muscles, glorious tattoos and a cock I would die for.”

  He sounds heartbroken and I did that. I begin to wonder what it would be like to fuck a guy. Squeeze my cock into a tight asshole.

  Wade smiles at me. “You’re thinking about it aren’t you?” He’s fucking grinning like the Cheshire Cat. How the fuck does he do that, know what I’m thinking? He places the spoon he’d been stirring with onto a plate on the stovetop before moving closer to me. He wraps his arms around my waist and tilts his head back to look up. I’m six feet five, he’s five feet nine. We literally can’t see eye to eye.

  “Ham, please think about it. I don’t want a relationship. I only want one night. I just want to know what it feels like to have my ass filled with a magnificent prick like yours.”

  I shake my head. Call a Psychiatrist. I can’t believe what I’m about to say. What the hell, I’ve committed every other sin – stealing, cheating, assault, adultery – the chick was married not me. Why not add sodomy to the list? Fuck, would anyone really care?

  I drag my fingers through my hair. “Shit. Yeah, okay. One night but that’s it.”

  “Oooh, darling.” Wade moves back and springs into me. I manage to catch him in my arms. He wraps his legs around my waist, his arms around my neck and peppers my face with kisses. Our cocks are dancing with each other. Fuck, I’m getting a hard on. With a fucking man!

  I pry him loose and set him down on his feet. He fondles my cock and the fucking thing stands to attention. Fuck, am I gay? Is that the reason I have never felt any real connection to a woman? Shit, if this gets around the ’hood, I’ll be beaten to a pulp. Yeah, the ’hood don’t take kindly to gays. It’s a macho thing. We have to be seen to be tough.

  “One night, Wade. Your place not mine.”

  “My place is fine. My neighbors are used to me bringing men home. We can take a walk on the beach after we fuck, have dinner and fuck again. When can we do it?”

  “We’re both off tomorrow and the day after.” I’d like to get it over and done with.

  “Come home with me tonight. Stay with me tomorrow and go home the following morning.”

  “That’s two nights. I said, one.” Why does no-one listen to what I say?

  Wade pouts. “It’ll be late when we get there tonight. Please, give me the two nights. I promise I’ll make it worth your while and I won’t ask for you ever again.”

  “Wade, I’m not gay.” Am I convincing him or me? “I’m only doing this because you helped me get through the chef’s course. If I hadn’t met you, I don’t know where I’d be now. And, because I upset you.”

  Wade had been one of my tutors and had taken me under his wing. He’d made sure I’d studied hard, put in the practice, and given me the confidence to pass. Then, he got me the job here at Leon’s. He said he could take me under his wing and make me the best chef in the city. I’ve been here for seven years and I don’t know if he’s done that but, I’ve won all sorts of awards and I hear talk that people think I’m the best.

  Leon had offered him the position of Head Chef but Wade had refused. He told Leon, he was wealthy enough to never have to work. He owns a home on the beach and drives a Ferrari. He works because he wants to help people like me and keep up his culinary skills. I don’t know how Wade became wealthy, one day I’ll ask. He’s about fifteen years older than my twenty nine years. I think. I haven’t asked him his age either. I gues
s I’m not very curious. I do know, I owe him a lot and if fucking him will make him happy, then that’s what I’ll do.

  “I can meet you at your place but I have to go home first. I need a change of clothes and I have to take care of something.” The damn man springs into my arms again. This time he kisses my lips. Did I like it? Not sure. I put him back down. “Two nights, Wade and one day, then I’m done.”

  He claps his hands before returning to the sauce, I’m amazed it’s not burned. “I’ve waited ten years for this. I promise, you won’t want to leave when the times up.”

  Fuck, I hope I can do this. He’s so excited. I couldn’t bear to let him down. As I said, he’s one of the only people I really care about. Him and the kid. “Yes, I will. I’m giving you my body for two nights and one day. You can do whatever you like with it during that time.” Did I really just say that? Shit. I hope he’s not into anything too kinky. “After that, we’re done. It’s my way of thanking you.” I can take anything for around thirty six hours, even being fucked by another man, I tell myself.

  “I’ll have to find more that you need to thank me for.”

  “I mean it, Wade. After that, we’re done.”

  He comes over and stands in front of me. He grabs my dick and stands on tiptoe to kiss me. “We’ll see.”

  I can’t believe my fucking cock is hard again.

  Chapter Two

  BLOSSOM

  I punch in the code to my apartment building and walk into the lobby. Crossing over to the lifts, I press the button to go up. The doors swish open seconds later and I insert the code to take me up to my penthouse suite. The doors ping open and I step into the luxury of my apartment. I throw my Gucci leather bag on the entrance table and slip my aching feet out of my Jimmy Choo’s.

  It’s been a long day and I’m looking forward to a quiet evening. A long soak in a hot bath sprinkled with Chanel No 5 bath oil, wrap up in my soft pink bathrobe, microwave a dinner (I hate to cook) and crash on the lounge with a book. Bliss.