Improper Love: A BWWM Romance Read online

  Improper Love

  A BWWM Romance

  Tyla Walker

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  Contents

  Also by Tyla Walker

  Description

  1. Weston

  2. LaDasia

  3. Weston

  4. LaDasia

  5. Weston

  6. LaDasia

  7. Weston

  8. LaDasia

  9. Weston

  10. LaDasia

  11. Weston

  12. LaDasia

  13. Weston

  14. LaDasia

  15. Weston

  16. LaDasia

  17. Weston

  18. LaDasia

  19. Weston

  20. LaDasia

  Also by Tyla Walker

  Also by Tyla Walker

  Honest Man

  Million Dollar Fake Wife

  Boy Friend

  Up & Coming

  Country Love

  Rushed Love

  The Promotion Proposal

  The Texas Property Billionaire’s Nanny

  The Oil Tycoon’s Surrogate

  Fake Forever

  Wife Arrangement

  Fake Wedding

  Not That White Boy

  Hate To Love You

  Fake Marriage

  Love After A Cheater

  Always Been You

  The Billionaire Professor’s Curvy Student

  The Billionaire President’s Love Bunny

  The Texas Bad Boy Billionaire’s Forbidden Love

  Starlet For the Single Dad

  Having the Ex-Military Billionaire’s Baby

  A Good Woman

  Blending a New Family

  Pretend Wife

  A Single Mom’s True Love

  Marriage of Convenience

  The Texas CEO’s Nanny

  Time For Family

  My Crazy White Boy

  Description

  LaDasia Andrews hates Weston Fraiser, the basketball player who owns the club right next to her deli. It’s hard enough for a single black mom to make a living without white basketball players coming in and trying to act all thug while stealing her customers. But then Weston does something that shocks her.

  He asks her to marry him!

  No lie. This white boy might be certifiably crazy. See, Weston has an image problem. He’s a ladies man and he’s on camera with woman after woman. If he doesn’t clean up his act, his contract isn’t being renewed.

  The only person who can help is technically hates him.

  But LaDasia isn’t bling. He’s fine. Like a good wine. And sweet. He’d be perfect with her daughter. A fake marriage might leave her with real love, right? Or…it could just be a whole lotta nothing. What’s LaDasia gonna do?

  Find out in this sizzling BWWM romance!

  One

  Weston

  “OH. GOD. WESTON. THERE!”

  I push the woman I’m currently fucking against the door of the public bathroom; her tits squish against it as I thrust harder and push her even more.

  “WESTON! OH!”

  “You like that? How do you like my monster cock, babe?”

  “I LOVE….MMMM! I LOVE YOUR BIG COCK!”

  I slam my hard cock inside of her even more as her screaming starts to really get to me. Women love my cock, and they will get down to suck it whenever they can. It’s nothing new to me anymore. Hell, I’m not even sure if this girl’s name is Kelly or Sasha; all I know is that she’s either of the two since those are the names of the girl I’m currently fucking this week.

  Wait, what if I’m missing another girl’s name? I wonder since the girls I fuck are usually the same type: a barbie doll babe with big tits. They wear high heels and skimpy clothes that make their jugs look bigger.

  Sometimes I also fuck cool chicks who like to think they’re above it all when I’m bored. But most of the time, I just sleep around with the same type who is ready to beg for my huge rod.

  Nothing serious. I don’t think I’ve ever had a serious relationship. It’s just not my thing. Being tied down feels restricting, and I love my freedom.

  “OH, GOD! OH, GOD! AH!”

  She squirts while I’m still ramming my dick hard and fast. Damn. This woman really loves it. I continue thrusting my hips to reach the peak because I have to be at work soon.

  The name’s Weston Fraiser, I own a hopping club in a strip mall. It’s very popular because I’m a very well known baller. I’m not Mike, may his soul rest in peace, but I’m right there with him. We played basketball back then, especially when he found out that he’s my idol. The guy said I have a future, and I shouldn’t lose sight of what’s in front of me; he’s a pretty awesome guy, and I’ll miss him.

  The peak takes me over, and I splash my seed on the woman’s body. She happily rubs it all over her. I fix my clothes, ready to leave.

  “Good luck on your next game, West.” She winks and blows me a kiss which I pretend to catch.

  “I’ll make sure to shoot for you, babe.” I won’t, but girls love that shit.

  I finish making sure I look decent enough for work. Despite being famous, I still need to keep an image, so I tend to dress well while on duty.

  Then I remember that I need to talk to my ‘neighbor’ again.

  There is a deli at the end of the strip mall who is not one of my fans. She claims that my customers are taking up all the parking in the area. And the fact that I also serve hamburgers and pizza takes her evening business away from her. She was there first and was doing great in her business until I moved in.

  I remember telling her that it’s just business, but she got angry. I understand because she worked hard to build her business up, and now she may have to shut her doors. Not my problem, though. I’m an owner too, so I know that if you can’t win the gamble, then you shouldn’t do it. Business is like a gamble, you win, and you lose.

  Of course, there are other factors like chances and luck. That sometimes, no matter how good you are, shit can still happen. And not just to good people. Because I really believe that good and bad things happen to good and bad people. It’s life.

  Mike and his son died, fires starting up around the world, the virus is spreading, and yet there are still good things happening as well. For instance, I am doing so well in both my basketball career as well as my club business.

  I’m shaken out of my reverie when I get a call from my agent and coach. They want to meet.

  When I get to our meeting place, I feel like this is going to be one of those interventions.

  “Sup.” I finger gun them both while grinning. “You two look lovely.”

  “I’m not one of your girls, Fraiser. Now sit.” My coach gives me one of his death glares, so I take my seat like a good boy.

  “Things are gonna have to change, Weston.” My agent goes ahead and explains the situation to me. Apparently, there have been a series of photos of me in several tabloids from my club. They are of me with several different women; I don’t even remember some of the girls in the picture.

  Long story short, they told me that is not a good image. I need to figure out how to portray a favorable character, or they will not renew my contract.

  RENEWED. Fuck. They said that I’m a talented basketball player, but there are hundreds of other gifted ballers waiting in the wings. I have a month t
o shape up.

  I’m furious when I leave their office. My personal life has nothing to do with my ball-handling skills. I’m one of the best, and I worked hard my whole life to get here. Now I feel like the bad things I talked about earlier are biting me right in the ass.

  I hate ultimatums.

  I have to make a plan and fast.

  Not sure how I got here, but I’m standing a few feet outside the deli. I can practically smell the sandwich and other goodies coming out from the resto. There’s no one around to recognize me, so I just stand there thinking about food and my current dilemma.

  I see the owner coming out of her office, so I hide.

  Then I suddenly have a burst of inspiration.

  First, I’ll call her and tell her I have something she’ll like, then I’ll wait for maybe ten-fifteen minutes before meeting her in the deli because it’ll be weird if she thinks I’m stalking her.

  This is going to be good. I’m a genius!

  I pump my fist, and then I give our lucky lady a call.

  Two

  LaDasia

  I carefully recheck our profit today. I can’t believe how low we are on profit these days. My deli used to be the talk of the town. Well, that is until Weston, the-fucking-asshole Fraiser, opened his club.

  Who am I compared to that famous baller?

  Even if my deli serves the best dishes in this strip mall, I’m nothing compared to a club owned by a famous athlete. Life is really unfair. He tried explaining to me a couple of times that it’s how business goes, but fuck that! He’s just fortunate because he’s famous, and also very hot... according to some people.

  Speaking of the devil. My phone repeatedly vibrates on my table. Asshole. That’s his name on my phonebook. I contemplate for a while, thinking if I should answer or not. It keeps ringing so it must be important—I don’t really care, but what the heck.

  I sigh before picking it up. “What?” I spat.

  “Good evening too, LaDasia,” he says joyfully, I swear I can hear him chuckling on the other side of the line. “Did I catch you in a bad mood?”

  “You’re the bad mood, Weston, what do you want?” I ask while I furiously cross out my tasks for today in my planner. Damn it! I’m running out of ideas to save my deli.

  I hear him clear his throat as if he’s preparing to say something really important. “Well, I need to talk to you.”

  “About what?” I am honestly curious about it. I don’t strike Weston as someone who will talk to me just for the heck of it. He’s always very serious, especially when talking about his career and business.

  “I have to tell you in person,” he mutters. “I promise it’ll be worth your time. It’s for the benefit of both of our business.”

  I immediately stop what I’m doing. Weston catches my attention there. It really has been a struggle these days. I’m getting more and more anxious as days pass by. I’m afraid the time will come that I have to shut my business down and just sell it away. I’ll try anything for the sake of my business, and of course, Jasmin, my darling.

  My little Jasmin. I can’t let that happen to her. I have to do something. Anything.

  “Okay,” I say, giving in. “Meet me here in 15 minutes. Don’t be late.”

  It has only been ten minutes when Weston walks in my deli. He’s wearing a casual shirt that hugs his God-given body, and blue jeans… that I hate to admit, shows off his big dick. I immediately turn my gaze on his face before I get any inappropriate thoughts.

  I’m actually thankful that he’s a big problem for me. That way, all I feel towards him is hate. I don’t have time to admire or have any desire for him, unlike other women. It’s not very hard to notice.

  As soon as he entered my deli, everyone’s attention is on him, watching his every step. Even my employees are into him, which are probably the majority of the people in here. Still, that doesn’t stop my only two customers putting their complete attention on Weston.

  He quickly ruffles his blonde hair, walks past me, and then sits down on the back booth, without even saying a word to me. Jerk.

  Why would he choose the farthest booth in my deli, considering that I only have two customers now? That’s really weird.

  I clumsily tug my long hair into a ponytail while walking towards the back booth where he’s sitting. This better be worthy of my time.

  I sit down, clasping my hands in front of him on the table, very business-like. “Well?”

  “I’ll be straight to the point, LaDasia, I need your help.” He gives me a small smile, staring at me with those blue eyes. His eyes are very intense, not giving away any clue or expression.

  I decide to keep my mouth shut and let him explain. After all, he said this would benefit both of our businesses. It better be.

  “My basketball career means a lot to me, and it’s on the line. You see, I was seen with a bunch of different women, and my agent and coach believe that my image is as important as my skills—I have to portray a positive character. Or else they won’t renew my contract.” He purses both of his lips, waiting for my response.

  I look at him, confused. “What does it have to do with me?”

  He clears his throat, bites his lower lip a bit—that almost distracted me—then finally smiles, “I thought that maybe if we pretended to be engaged, and—”

  “Whoa! Wha—”

  He quickly raises his hand, showing his palm, stopping my violent reaction. “Hear me out, LaDasia.”

  There are a lot of things going on in my mind right now. ENGAGED?! WITH THIS JERK?! WHAT THE FUCK IS HE TALKING ABOUT?? I don’t want to make a scene inside my own deli. I don’t want to lose more customers, and again, because of him.

  “This better be good, Weston,” I warn him, eyeing him intently. He better has something good to say in connection with his goddamn idea.

  He nods firmly as if he’s really sure I’ll like what he’s about to say.

  “I thought that maybe if we pretend to be engaged, I’m here in your deli a lot, and I quit serving food until you’re closed, it will make your business pick up a lot. It will improve my image, and you’ll get to save your business. It’s a win-win situation, LaDasia.” He smiles proudly at me. I can see that he’s really confident about the deal he’s offering me.

  I let out a deep breath, unable to take in everything instantly. It sounds really crazy, really, really crazy. Pretending to be Weston the-fucking-asshole Fraiser’s fiancée is probably my worst nightmare. I can’t even stand this jerk! I won’t be in this situation if it not because of him!

  But as much as I hate to admit it, I think he’s right. My business is indeed in danger of going bankrupt–all thanks to him—and I can’t afford that. The only way for me to be able to save it is if his club closes down—which is impossible.

  Now I understand why he chose the farthest booth in my deli.

  Well, if you can’t beat them, join them.

  “What’s the plan... babe?”

  Three

  Weston

  "First of all, you have to actually pretend to like me. And I mean you have to release your inner Oscar Award Winning Actress and make sure the people actually think we're in love," I tell her straight, sort of. She's not happy with me pointing out the obvious. I can tell she did not want to be reminded of what she has to turn into when we're together.

  My new fake fiancé makes a face that reminds me of someone who had smelled rotten garbage. I laugh at the absurdity of this. I am going to be engaged to the only woman in the world who can't stand me. Irony at it's finest.

  We shake hands, and I left as casually as I did when coming in here.

  Oh, this is going to be spectacular. I'm pretty sure that there won't go a day that I'll be bored when she's around. This is perfect, I'm brilliant. I congratulate myself mentally as I walk to my club to return to my life.

  I call a press conference to announce our engagement the next day. My agent and coach almost didn't buy my plan because they know my personal life better th
an I do, only because I get super wasted when it's off-season, and those times are blurry to me.

  In the end, though, after I tell them straight that I'm actually hiding it BECAUSE of my image, and that it's about time to tell the world that Weston Frasier is actually a man who loves a woman, ONE woman at that. My fans are going to freak out, but it's fine. What's important is staying in the court. I'm doing this for my love…

  ...basketball.

  "So what's it like to be Weston's future wife?" a reporter at the back asks LaDasia. I'm excited to see what she has to say.

  "Where to begin," she says with such a pretty smile. I'm a little surprised that she's capable of making a decent look on her usually ogrish rage face that I'm accustomed to. "Scary."

  Scary. I'm about to save LaDasia from ruining our plan when it has barely started, but then she continues.

  "But even if I am scared, I'm also very excited. Honestly, who would have thought THE Weston Frasier would settle down. Right?" She gives them a sweet smile, and the crowd goes wild.

  They laugh at her witty little speech, and they LOVE it when she suddenly holds my hand and cuddles close to me. For a moment there, I actually believe this to be real. She's good. She's terrific.

  "In the end, I just couldn't resist this idiot," she turns to me when she says it. Idiot, really? I smile at her wonderful compliment. "But he's my idiot."

  I just shrug my shoulders and look at the people like I was the main character in a series.