by Alexis Angel
It can’t be.
“Marry me, Brittney,” he says, opening the box and showing me a simple golden ring. Oh God, someone pinch me right now - is this really happening?
Slowly, he takes the ring out of the box, and I offer him my trembling hand.
“Y-yes…! Yes, I’ll marry you!” I cry out, feeling the sting of tears on both my eyes. I wipe them off with the back of my free hand and, still smiling, he slides the ring into one of my fingers.
“Now, I know this isn’t a diamond ring or anything like that but --”
“I don’t care!” I cut him short. “I don’t care about diamonds and I don’t care about --”
“But,” he continues, still speaking softly, “this is far more important to me. This was my grandmother’s engagement ring, Brittney. It’s been in the family for more than sixty years, passing down from my grandmother to my mother… And now it’s your turn to wear it.”
“I… I don’t even know what to say,” I whisper, raising my hand and looking at the way the ring fits perfectly on my fingers, its golden surface reflecting the stark glow of the brightly lit New York skyline. “It’s perfect.”
“No, you’re perfect,” he replies, going up to his feet and bending over, his mouth reaching for mine. My eyelids droop as I feel the touch of his lips, and I place my arms over his shoulders, pulling him into me. Moving fast, he sneaks one arm under my legs, the fabric of his shirt brushing against the back of my knees, and picks me up from the chair.
Carrying me in his arms, he looks into my eyes, a tender expression smoothing the rugged lines on his face.
“I’m the luckiest man on Earth, Brittney,” he whispers, and I feel my heart melting inside my chest.
“You are… And you know why?” I tease him, my smile turning into a grin.
“Why?”
“Because your fiancée is in a celebratory mood,” I say, and his lips seem to mimic my grin. “And you know what that means, don’t you?”
“Oh, I do…” He replies, carrying me across the balcony and into the living room. He walks all the way to the bedroom, gently kicking the door open with the tip of his polished shoe, and steps inside.
Remember how all this started? With me squatting, and Kaden throwing a stone at a cop car windshield. A silly moment, just an idiotic blip on the ever-flowing river of time… But it was that moment that set all this into motion.
Life is all about that, I think. Not about trying to reach for the grand moments, but about enjoying the way the small things seem to send ripples throughout our whole lives.
Most times, that’s how love finds you.
At least, that’s how it found me.
A Special Treat from the Author
I love ya my fab readers!
I know that like we totes don’t say it enough but this whole thing is about you Angels.
With that in mind, we want to share some more love with you.
After this you’ll find a few chapters from my latest work! I hope you like it!
xoxoxo
Alexis Angel
Single TV Dad
Billionaire Romance…Naughty Angel Style
By Alexis Angel
Copyright 2017 by Naughty Angel Publishing
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.
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Kane
“Oh, Kane,” the girl—no clue what her name is—moans, her voice echoing off the walls of my dressing room. “You’re so hot. Fuck me harder.”
I smile and do as she wishes. It’s not the first time I’ve heard the request. And I always deliver. Far be it to deny any woman who asks the full force of my cock.
“Uh— oh— fuck—” she bites out with each thrust of my hips. I pound into her harder and harder. “It’s— true— oh god— what they— say.”
Damn straight it is. I’m not the lead of the hottest drama on cable for nothing. And yeah, this cable network has no problem with full frontal nudity. And neither do I. Because it was all me in every single shot, baby. No stunt double dicks for me. I’m blessed with a twelve-inch cock, and I want the whole world to know it.
Now that my show is number one week after week, they do. And all the women want to say they slept with the star of Manhattan Reign.
And when a sexy little extra who looks like she’s barely legal asks for an autograph, who am I to refuse? No, I give them one better. I take them right back to my dressing room and fuck their brains out. Something I’m apparently doing a good job of now because this one has become incoherent with her pleas and moans, her eyes rolling back in her head like she’s been propelled straight into another universe.
Just as she starts coming all over my cock, I grab her by the hips and flip her around, flinging her over the arm of my sofa until her ass is straight up in the air, then I slam into her again, causing her orgasm to intensify.
I know what’s going to happen when she leaves here. Girls like this don’t come on my show to be an extra just for the fun of it. They come on here to see what kind of story they can leave with. Well, I’m going to give her one. She’s going to be singing my praises for weeks to come. I’ll make certain of it.
Her cries become louder, and the next thing I know, my spine tingles and my balls tighten, and I know I’m about to explode all over this girl.
Just as I’m about to let go, there’s a knock on the door.
“Kane?”
The banging on the other side of the door has nothing on the banging going on inside, but it still makes me growl in frustration. This damn production assistant has interrupted me getting it on in my dressing room one too many times. I think he might get off on it a little. Hell, he probably stood outside the door listening for a while before he even knocked. It wouldn’t surprise me if he walked in here right now at full mast.
What can I say? I have that kind of appeal. Women love me. Men love me. But more than anyone, the young girls love me. Thanks in no small part to my role on the show. I’m the father figure. The silver fox—minus the silver. The producers love to pair me with all the hottest young actresses. It definitely keeps ratings up, no doubt about it.
I can’t complain. I have a string of women lining up for me every day of the week, and I make sure to satisfy as many of them as I can. I’m in and out of the tabloids as often as I’m on the cover of some magazine or another declaring me the sexiest man alive.
The fame’s great—especially the women it brings—and I love what I do on Manhattan Reign, but I do hope this season will get me a nod on the awards circuit. I’m not just a hot body and a chiseled jaw with a smoldering gaze and panty-melting smile. I actually have some talent. A lot, if I’m being honest. I come by it naturally. My father is an Oscar winning film star—but I’d like to prove that I’m talented in my own right.
“Kane,” the production assistant calls through the door again when I don’t answer. What the fuck does he expect me to do? Stop railing the hot girl bent over my sofa? “You’re needed out here. Like five minutes ago. You’re needed for the audition this morning.”
I groan. I totally forgot. Hot women and their even hotter pussies tend to do that to me. “Give me five, dude,” I call back, then turn my attention back to the pussy currently convulsing around my throbbing cock.
“Kane,” the woman wails as I send her into orbit with her third or fourth orgasm—or is it fifth? I’ve lost count.
Then I give in to my own need as I pull out and hot jets shoot from my cock, stream after creamy white stream of cum spraying all over her back. I grin in satisfaction. A naked woman’s back never looks better than it does covered in my cum.
I slap her ass and stand up, grabbing a towel from a table and cleaning myself up real fast before t
ossing it to her. Tucking my cock back in my pants, I give myself a quick glance in the mirror. With a smile and a wink, I cock my fingers like guns. So what if it’s fucking cliché? I look fucking awesome, even after an early morning of shooting scenes.
Grabbing a headshot off the stack I keep on the side table for just such an occasion, I bite the cap off a Sharpie and sign my name to it, handing it to the girl still slumped over the arm of my sofa.
“Take your time getting dressed,” I tell her, giving her my most charming smile when she looks up at me. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
I don’t tell her not to be here when I get back. My assistant takes care of the ugly parts. But really, she knew what she was really asking for when she gave me that look when asking for my autograph. They’re all the same. I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of a string of random women?
Then, laughing to myself at the stray thought and wondering where the fuck it came from, I head out the door and saunter down the hall, energized for the audition I’m about to stand in for.
Sasha
Tap, tap, tap.
The producer, a man in his fifties with bags under his eyes, drums his fingertips across the table as I wait in front of him with my hands folded over my lap. There’s a nervous smile on my face, and I can already feel the muscles on my face cramping from keeping that smile for so long.
“Where the hell is he?” He grumbles to himself, impatiently rapping his knuckles on his desk. We’ve been waiting for Kane for thirty minutes now (or has it been longer than that?), and there’s still no sign of him.
“It’s okay,” I say, but I doubt that the producer, Ryan, has even heard me. Judging by the pissed off expression on his face, he’s definitely not okay with Kane being this late to my audition. Which I understand completely; I’m pretty annoyed myself.
I’ve been rehearsing my lines all morning, and I’ve kept them on the tip of my tongue for so long that now I’m afraid of drawing a blank the moment I look Kane in the eyes. And the more the clock ticks, the more I’m afraid of that happening.
Keep it together, I think to myself, taking a deep breath as I try to calm myself. I really can’t screw this up today. If all goes well, I’ll get a part in Manhattan Reign ...and that’s pretty much the dream for a struggling actress like me. I mean, acting on dental floss commercials and stuff like that sure helps paying the bills, but it doesn’t really compare to being part of the hottest drama on cable TV. With an obsessed fan base spread all around the globe (not to mention all the critical acclaim), a show like this is the dream. If I play my cards right, Manhattan Reign might be my launch pad to success.
“Good morning, everyone,” I hear Kane suddenly say as he bursts through the door. I have my back turned to him, but I’d recognize that voice everywhere. After all, more than wanting a role in Manhattan Reign, I’m also a fan of the show...And that in part because of Kane. Oh, what am I saying—it’s totally because of Kane.
“Good morning,” I tell him, turning around on my seat to face him. The moment my eyes lock on his, I think my heart stops. He’s so much taller in real life...And more than just taller, he’s also much more handsome. Million-dollar smile, pronounced jawline, and a proud chin that tells me he wouldn’t look out of place with a crown on top of his head. And the suit – sweet Mercy, is it even legal to look this good?
“So, what’s the scene?” He starts, sitting on the empty chair next to me. Lacing his hands behind his head, he leans back against the seat and throws his feet up on the desk, much to the dismay of the producer.
“This is Sasha,” the producer replies with a cold tone, casually waving his hand at me. “She’s one of our final candidates for the role of Katya.”
“Katya,” Kane whispers, taking his feet off the table and reaching for the script sitting on table. Flipping through it, he then looks at me with a curious expression. “That’s the foreign exchange student, right?”
“Yes,” I nod, “Katya’s going to be your daughter’s rival. Your TV daughter, I mean.”
“Yeah, I don’t have a real life daughter, so…” He laughs, and that makes me feel even more nervous. I definitely can’t screw this up. It’s almost a miracle that I made it to the final audition round, and now that I’m looking Kane in the eyes...Yeah, I have to get this role.
“Alright, let’s get it over with,” the producer tells us with a bored tone, looking at the script in his hands. “This is the scene where Katya starts flirting with Kane, seducing him...Let’s see if there’s some chemistry between the two of you.”
“Got it,” I nod nervously, feeling the palms of my hands grow slippery with sweat. I have a copy of the script inside my purse, but I don’t reach for it; by now, I already know each and every line by heart.
“Alright,” Kane whispers, his eyes wandering over the script as he looks for his line. Then, finding it, his expression seems to change in a fraction of a second and he looks straight at me. “Katya...I don’t know who you think I am, but –“
“Does it matter what I think?” I cut him short, adding a slight accent to my words. I lower my voice, my eyes never leaving his, and then I continue. “That’s the problem with you...You think too much.”
“And maybe you should start thinking more,” he replies, his voice stern and heavy. “You don’t care about anything, about anyone, and —”
“But I do care…” My whispers turn into a purr now, and I keep my eyes locked on his as I say these words. I let a few seconds of silence pass as I run my tongue between my lips, and I can’t help but imagine how it’d feel to lean in and crush my mouth against Kane’s. “I care about you,” I finally add.
“Don’t,” he whispers back at me, his voice hesitant and fraught with conflict and tension. The air around us seems to grow heavy, and I can almost feel the electricity crackle in the space between our bodies. “Don’t do this…” He insists, but his words sound more like a plea for me do to the exact opposite.
“Like I said,” I raise my hand up and, reaching for him, I brush my thumb over his lips, “you think too much.”
We remain looking into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, that heavy silence blanketing the room, and I even forget that the producer is sitting here with us. Right now, I’ve lost myself in Katya, and I’m not even acting anymore...I’m truly living it.
“Yes!” The producer suddenly cries out, clapping his hands together. His annoyed expression from before has given way to one of relief, and he leans back against his seat as he looks at me. “That was great.” I start to think that he’s going to offer me the role right now, but that’s not what he does. “We’ll let you know,” he tells me, his excited tone now long gone.
Completely stunned, adrenaline rushing through my veins at warp speed, I get up from my seat and amble out the door of the audition room.
I can’t wait to tell Laurel about this.
TV Roundup!
Chase: Hello out there from TV Land! Guess who's baaaaaack?
Nadia: That's right folks! Chase Worthington and his trusty co-host, Nadia Moore!
Chase: Thank you to our loyal audience who called in to the network and got them to extend our contract to cover more than just The Biggest Licker.
Nadia: That's right! We're now here coming straight to your homes, giving you our take on the best of TV. Each night. Totally unfiltered.
Chase: And right now, the best of TV goes without a doubt to just one show.
Nadia: Manhattan Reign.
Chase: That's right, Nadia. And I don't know about you, but last season was tough to beat. The show has some pretty big shoes to fill this year.
Nadia: Word on the street from the lady who does my waxing is that they're looking for some new blood to spice things up.
Chase: I mean, it's already about a single billionaire dad in New York City who gets hit on by all his daughter's friends. How much more spicier do they want?
Nadia: Well, all I can say that my spies have told me is that they're looking fo
r a foreign exchange student that moves in.
Chase: Wow. I just got kind of hard at picturing that. A cute, young, foreign exchange student in the home of an older Manhattan billionaire.
Nadia: If you want, we can role play that later?
Chase: You're the best girlfriend ever.
Nadia: As long as you let me call you "Daddy".
Chase: So that's something that's going to happen this season I think on Manhattan Reign. It's going to be interesting to see that play out on TV between the new foreign exchange student and the father if they decide to get busy.
Nadia: Ooooh yeah, it's going to be so hot. In fact, I want to DVR the episode when they first do.
Chase: Oh boy. I think I know what's coming.
Nadia: That's right. In case you're wondering, audience, what we're talking about...
Chase: That's right folks. The New York Daily Journal Television section just named Manhattan Reign as the #1 TV show in America.
Nadia: But more than that...
Chase: Right. They also named Manhattan Reign as the best television show to masturbate to.
Nadia: That just means one thing, ladies. Grab your man. Or grab your vibe.
Chase: Because if I know Nadia...
Nadia: Then you know Chase's head is going to be between my legs as we watch the next episode of Manhattan Reign.
Chase: Will I get a chance to watch the show too? Or will I just be getting you off?
Nadia: Silly rabbit. That's why we have DVR. We'll watch it while I come. And then we can play that over and watch it while I give you head. Sound fair?