12 Inches: A Secret Baby Dark Romance

by Alexis Angel

  Only time will tell what the relationship with Mayor Anders and the City of New York will be like. During that time, many of you in Gotham will undoubtedly be wondering what happens to his estranged stepson who seems to have for the moment absconded with his wife.

  “Since the Mayor and Jocelyn Carter were never truly married it turns out due to the form not being properly signed, there’s no real reason for a divorce,” his Chief of Staff Kenneth Loomis stated when contacted about this issue. “The Mayor wishes them both every happiness and hopes that they will keep him abreast of news of his grandson. But in all honesty, he’s probably going to be more focused on running the city.”

  Citizens polled during Election Day stated overwhelmingly that the Mayor’s burst of honesty was what had made them finally favor him. Many stated that holding back such a key facet regarding his personality had affected him in other areas in how he presented himself to the public, which all coalesced to create such low approval ratings for him despite his photogenic family. I think that once citizens learned the full story of their Mayor, we began to realize that we may not like him as a person on some levels because he’s so busy, but the job of Mayor requires someone who will give it their all and sacrifice everything else. And that made him the top choice, by a margin of 63% to 37%.

  That about does it for my coverage of this election cycle. I either need a vacation from politics, a long, hot shower to feel clean again, or both.

  I can’t wait till Lance and Jocelyn come back to New York though—they’re currently in London—and you can bet that as soon as they have their baby that this newspaper will be all over them, getting the facts for your reading pleasure. Till we hear more, this is Amanda Adams signing off. Keep your ears open, New York.

  66

  Jocelyn

  Epilogue

  The limo glides next to the curb of our new home in the city. I get out, and Lance comes out from the other side, holding the baby carrier.

  I look up briefly. I can’t see the top of the tower to One57.

  “How did you say you came to a decision to live here, again?” I ask him.

  He shrugs as we walk into the ornate lobby. “I got a buddy who lives here,” he says.

  “Someone from your wilder days?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

  I can’t help it. Lance looks very cute carrying little Lola Grace in the baby carrier. A bad boy, certifiably with his tattoos, now a daddy.

  “A buddy of mine from a while ago, actually, Arsen Hawke,” he says.

  The name rings a bell for me. “The porn king?” I ask.

  He nods. “His dad was the porn king, but he met some girl and they run it like a business now.”

  “The guy who’s making webcams come into the mainstream?” I ask Lance. I’m a bit skeptical. “He’s not going to want to film Lola Grace or something, is he?”

  Lance laughs. “Nah, but he’ll probably be down to him us.”

  I give Lance a look. He looks at me and smiles and whatever withering stare I may have tried vanishes. I love this man too much to even be fake mad at him.

  You know that feeling, hun? Where you’re mad at your significant other for being too cute to not let you be mad at them? Like you try to be mad at you, but then they just smirk or smile, or touch you somewhere and you stop being mad? And then you get mad that they were able to take away your anger?

  Let me just say that I’d rather be mad about this, than where I was one year ago. Right before the election.

  We open the door to the apartment and walk in.

  It’s already furnished rather tastefully. I hired someone while we were in Europe to make sure that the apartment was ready for us.

  What? I would have loved to do it myself, but it’s really hard when you have to have sex three times a day and take care of a baby.

  Although, hun, the sex part - I don’t have to do it. It’s just that my body seems to want it that often, is all. Like I’ve been walking in a desert, and now I finally have all the water I could drink.

  Besides, the $10 million a month that Michael pays me as a settlement lets me not have to worry about these things. Combined with Lance’s trust fund, I’d say we’re doing pretty good. Considering where we were.

  There’s a knock at the door.

  “That must be Michael,” Lance thinks and I’m almost tempted to say speak of the devil.

  It’s funny. I want to stay mad at Lance, but I’ve already forgotten what that’s like. But Michael. I’m not mad at Michael. It’s just a chill that runs through me when I see him walk in the door.

  He doesn’t have the human feelings that are supposed to be in people. Something like that. No way else to explain any of this…

  “Hello,” Michael says walking in. “I just wanted to stop by, welcome you to my city, and visit my granddaughter.”

  Lance shakes his hand and I bite back the urge to tell him he’s not related to our little family in any way. I was never married to him. He was never Lance’s father. But I stop.

  “She’s beautiful,” Michael says bending over and examining Lola Grace.

  The baby looks up at Michael, in a few minutes she’ll be crawling around the apartment, exploring. But for now, she’s content to stay bundled up where she is.

  Michael gets up and turns around.

  He hands Lance an envelope.

  “Come back to work for the company and the campaign son,” he says to him. “Here is everything I have, and I think I’ve met your conditions.”

  “The media hitting you that badly, huh?” Lance asks.

  Michael shakes his head. “Not at all, actually,” he says. “They’ve embraced this whole breaking barriers thing I’m putting up at them. Really taking the narrative of the first openly gay mayor to heart.”

  “Then why do you want me back?” Lance asks with suspicion.

  Michael shrugs. “Well, considering that I have no need for a family, having the two of you there associated with me can only help in the polls,” he says. He looks out the windows. “I mean, with the city the way it is and problems always cropping up, you can never have too few positives on your side of the table.”

  Lance looks at Michael for a second. There’s a lot of history between those two men. A lot of anger. Pain. Hurt.

  Finally he nods his head. “I can give you another chance,” he says and Michael smiles.

  The two shake hands. There’s a moment.

  Then Michael turns to me. He knows better than to take a step closer.

  “Jocelyn,” he says. “I’ve given Lance copies of everything I had on your father. He’s free and no longer ever has to worry.”

  I nod. It’s going to take time for me to trust Michael. But if Lance is willing to try, I can match.

  Michael says his goodbyes after a while and I turn to Lance. He grabs me in his arms, and the two of us walk to the floor to ceiling windows of One57. Of our new home.

  Our new life. Together.

  Just the way I want it.

  A Goodbye From Lance

  Jocelyn really wanted to be the person that got to say goodbye to you. But I got here first, and since it’s only really one of us that talks to you at a time, I guess this is my turn.

  But no, really, I wanted to tell you how fucking awesome I think you are for making it this far. Most novels are 40,000 to 50,000 words. If you’re reading this, babe, you’ve just digested 82,000 words of fucking story. Actually, wait, that’s pretty much what it was, wasn’t it? A story about fucking? Or a fucking story?

  Whatever, listen, this is all I came to tell you and I wanted to tell you a bit about the chick who wrote this because she doesn’t usually like doing things the normal way.

  So her name is Alexis Angel and she usually has all this shit she puts down about how she likes having fun and shit and whatever the fuck girls talk about they like to buy, and Jocelyn even gave me a list of things to say but I fucking forgot. It’s not my fault. Jocelyn got these black yoga pants from Lululemon and I was just staring
at that ass. Wanted to fucking bury my face in those fucking cheeks. And slap that ass while I was rubbing my face in it. Got my cock so fucking hard I swear to God its a fucking wonder I’m even sitting here talking to you instead of fucking her right now. But I gotta do this first because Alexis took the fucking time to write about us that Jocelyn won’t forgive me if I forget.

  What am I even talking about? Oh, right. So, you can reach Alexis at alexis@naughtyangelpublishing.com if you want to email her about anything. She loves all the normal shit that girls do, but I sometimes think she’s a fucking dirty girl too at heart. I mean, she made us describe the sex we had in such fucking detail. Like, ‘where did you move your hand after that? How hard did you squeeze her nipple? What did it feel like when her tongue was at the tip of your cock? What about when it was on your shaft?’

  I swear, it’s like I should have fucking invited her with the two of us, she seems to know every fucking thing about our lives.

  Anyways, Alexis is on Facebook right now where she’s probably talking about me. You can friend her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/alexis.angel.754. But she’s also got a page where she took pictures of me and Jocelyn and put it on a cover. Her page is at: https://www.facebook.com/author.alexisangel/.

  Ok, so that’s everything right? I forgot her fucking Twitter and shit, and seriously, Jocelyn can’t expect me to remember everything when she’s shaking her ass like that in my face. I swear to God.

  I think I’m going to go fuck her now. It’s been a couple of hours and I’m fucking horny. Oh, you haven’t read about our wedding in Europe, have you? If you want to read about how we started, or the shit that you didn’t get to see - and trust me, you’ve seen more into my fucking life than me at this point, I think - then you can do all that by signing up for the Naughty Angels Newsletter, here.

  But seriously, do whatever you got to do, just know that it was fucking good having you. And I’m serious, if you had met me before Jocelyn, or if you ask Alexis really nicely, I will totally come over and fuck you. Yeah, you fucking read that right. I’ll come over and rub my 12-inch cock all over your tits before I suck on them and make you fucking sigh. Then I’ll eat your pussy till you fucking squeal. Then I’ll stick my cock inside of you till you pass the fuck out.

  You just gotta either be part of her Naughty Angels or ask her on Facebook. Don’t believe me? You already saw my ass on the Prequel, didn’t you?

  See you around.

  Another Goodbye From Alexis

  Hey babes!

  Amazon has a problem with Page Flip. If you’re hitting the end of this book, and it asks you to go back to the first page, then PLEASE DON’T. If you’re reading on Kindle Unlimited, none of the pages will get counted as a read.

  Even if it’s asking you to go to the beginning and review, please close the book at the page you end at after the story - there is a bonus book after this - and then review if you need to.

  The Page Flip issue seriously kills page reads for me, so I’m thanking you in advance!

  Love!

  Victoria xoxoxox

  Yet Another Goodbye From Jocelyn

  Wow, we really don’t want you to go, do we? Well, it’s true, hun. We don’t. At least I don’t.

  I’ve never had that many girlfriends, you know? I mean, when I grew up I was always the Governor’s Daughter. And later on in life, it was close friends but we drifted apart after I got married to Michael.

  Or, I guess I never really got married to Michael, but just thought I did. Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you. I went through a lot in those last 82,000 and its good to have a friendly ear. I mean, I didn’t know about it then, but I basically thought I was cheating on my husband with my stepson. That’s a lot of mental anguish.

  Right, it got made up for the fact of the sex being so great. Like, I couldn’t really think much some days because I was in a sex haze. And I hope you got at least one orgasm out of us, babe. You deserve it for being so amazing.

  Anyways, I just wanted to say that I really will miss you. I sorta didn’t want you to go so soon, so I asked Alexis and I put a preview after this. Don’t know if you read it yet, but it’s called Lisa Vs. Outlaw and it’s for a new pen name that Alexis uses to co-write. It’s basically a fun, sexy story and people have loved it. Its worth a read again because it’s what launched Alexis into writing.

  Anyways, the description is on the next page and then the story starts. Hope you like it. And thanks again, for everything.

  Description

  Billionaires, bosses, professors, princes…whatevs, ya know? I need a real man.

  Good luck finding an outlaw in the Hamptons.

  Just because someone has some whips and chains doesn’t make me go all gooey.

  I mean, I could just go buy that at the dollar store.

  Nope. I need rugged. I need alpha. I need an outlaw.

  Not some white collar criminal either. Insider stock trading does not make you an outlaw. Neither does stealing cable. Or tearing the tags off pillows.

  But that’s all I have to choose from.

  Until I meet Diesel and get captivated by his mysterious eyes, and insanely hot body.

  He’s the total package - emphasis on the word “package”.

  Now there’s just one question. Will his bike ever be the same after I ride on it? And I’m not talking about the Harley either ;)

  *** It’s the cute single girl versus the Big Bad Outlaw in this sixth installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, steamy, sassy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. HEA? You know it, babe! ***

  Also by Mona Cox

  Alicia Vs. Billionaire

  Ashley Vs. Boss

  Natalie Vs. Prince

  Christine Vs. Professor

  Kim Vs. Stepbrother

  Dirty Lil’ Angels

  Hi ladies!

  If you’re like me, once you finish, you’re not going to want the story to end!

  To receive exclusive sneak peeks, (before anyone else!), bonus content not seen anywhere else, giveaways, and tons more swag, visit me and my Naughty Angels on Facebook at Dirty Lil’ Angels.

  We’ll make it worth your while…

  :)

  Kisses!

  Alexis

  67

  Lisa

  I swirl the gin and tonic in front of me as I listen to Christine sigh happily over Lover Boy.

  “Oh, and then, he bought me this!” She holds her arm out so everyone can admire the emerald-encrusted bracelet on her arm. It’s beautiful, even if a bit old-fashioned for my taste, but Christine’s eyes sparkle as much as the emeralds when she adds happily, “It was made in the early 1800s for the queen of France! Can you imagine?”

  I try not to roll my eyes in time with the swirling of my gin and tonic, but really, this is all getting to be a bit too much. Yeah, I want my friends to be happy, but the gushing and the gems? Can anyone say “over the top”?

  We're at the Boathouse, just three friends enjoying a Sunday afternoon together, but I have to admit, my oh-so-in-love friends are mostly just spending it outdoing each other by comparing Lover Boy stories.

  Ashley jumps in. Of course Ashley jumps in. She's just as bad as Christine, if not worse. “Apollo hasn’t given me anything that used to belong to the queen of France, but he did buy me a Maserati the other day. It’s so fun to drive; I should take you two out for a spin in it! One at a time, since it’s just a two-seater, of course.”

  “More than the gifts,” Christine sighs, and I swear to god, this is true; she clasps her hands in front of her as she talks, like an actress from the 40s or something, “it’s the love and attention he gives me. Anders is more attentive than anyone—”

  Okay, I can't help it anymore. The snort came out. It's loud and patrons three tables over turn to stare, but I just can't hold it in anymore. The love in the air is so thick, I can hardly see through it anymore.

  “Are we making you ill over there?” Ashley asks, eyebrow cocked at me.


  “A little,” I mumble into my suddenly-very-important-must-drink-right-now gin and tonic. When they just continue to stare at me, I shift in my seat and sigh.

  “I just…” I look out over the lake as I try to pick the right words. “I haven't found anyone like that for me, you know? I wish that I liked soft guys. I want—”

  “There’s nothing soft about Anders,” Christine breaks in with a naughty wiggle of her eyebrows. Ashley titters knowingly and I only barely restrain myself from rolling my eyes again.

  “I want a Long Island tough kind of guy,” I say, trying to explain. “I want a man. I want a beast who'll come along and fuck me. I think all the real men died out in the 1950s and now they’re all too afraid to say what they really think. Everyone is obsessed with being politically correct.”

  I listen to the gentle lap of the water against the boat deck as Ashley and Christine outdo themselves, assuring me that their new, amazing boyfriends are not soft and weak, but rather hard and ready to fuck at a moment's notice. I listen, but they don't really seem to get it. They're too in love to realize that their men aren't perfect. At least, not the kind of perfect that I want. I want the perfectly unperfect. I want a man who makes me his, and doesn't ask questions.