Dr. Single Dad: A Single Doctor and Virgin Romance

by Dark Angel

  I press my forehead against Sloane’s chest as I come, my teeth gritted so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if they just shattered. They keep on thrusting as I come, and it even seems like they’re going faster now.

  My throat gives up on me, and my wild screaming turns into a subdued whisper. There’s an orgasm raging through me, and yet, I already feel another one looming on the horizon on my mind, like a tsunami after an earthquake. It crashes against me before I can even prepare for it, and I just collapse on top of Sloane’s body, my entire body a quivering mess of twitching muscles.

  I remain like that until my body reels from these two orgasms, and only then do they slide their cocks out of me. I roll to the side, completely spent, and sprawl myself like a starfish, breathing so hard it seems like my lungs are one fire.

  “We’re not done yet.” Sloane’s voice jolts me out of my exhausted trance and, somehow, I manage to sit up. Moving like a predator, he makes me turn around and, grabbing me the hips, he forces me to go on all fours.

  “Ready for the main event?” Drake asks me, and I turn my head to look at him. There’s a flicker of lust in his eyes, and I only realize what it means when he kneels on the floor.

  Right behind Sloane.

  Oh, this is going to be interesting.

  “As hard as you can,” I tell Sloane before turning forward, chomping on my lower lip as I prepare myself to have him inside of me once more.

  “Of course. There’s no other way,” Sloane tells me and, just like that, he hooks his fingers on my hips and thrusts. His thighs smack my ass cheeks hard as he drives his cock all the way inside of me, and I find some hidden reserve of strength that allows me to scream once more.

  Instead of fucking me right away, Sloane just holds his position, his cock buried inside of me. I look back over my shoulder, and I realize what’s holding him back; he’s waiting for Drake.

  Drake has one hand on Sloane’s waist, his fingers curled tight against his flesh; with the other hand he’s grabbing his cock and brushing it up and down Sloane’s ass crack. My pussy burns up as I watch him do it and, even though I try to look away, I realize I can’t do that. It’s stronger than me. I don’t even blink.

  Groaning, Sloane closes his eyes, and that because Drake has started to push his cock inside. With each inch that goes in, Sloane starts groaning louder and louder, and then he just falls silent and opens his eyes, locking them on mine as if he’s possessed.

  “As hard as we can,” he returns my words, the devil’s grin on his face. He slams his cock into me so fast that I don’t even have the time to react. I go down from my hands onto my elbows, but I somehow manage to stop myself from tumbling forward.

  My eyes are closed now, but I can hear Drake’s thighs slapping Sloane’s ass cheeks, just like Sloane is doing to me. The sound of flesh on flesh echoes in the room, bouncing off the walls and then coming back to us, and we remain in this unbreakable chain of lust and desire until we cross the point of no return.

  Sloane’s cock is burning its way in and out of me when I thrust back at him, needing him to destroy my pussy completely. Reading my mind, he starts thrusting so hard that this time I simply can’t help it; my elbows slip off the ground and I fall head first, my cheek hitting the floor.

  “Don’t stop!” I cry out, still trying to thrust back as Sloane fucks me. My pussy’s already tightening up around his shaft, and I’m close to coming that I can hear pleasure crackle inside my mind if I just focus. “FUCK!” I scream at the top of my lungs, the orgasm creeping up on me and punching me in the gut mercilessly.

  “Oh fuck, fuck,” I repeat over and over again, all my thoughts completely adrift in a turbulent ocean of maddening pleasure. “Don’t stop, don’t stop…!” I urge Sloane as he grabs me by the hips, keeping my ass up in the air as he thrusts.

  “I want you to… come in me,” I plead him, tears of utter pleasure streaming down my face. “And over me…” I continue, losing control of the words leaving my mouth. But Drake is paying attention, and he’s ready to give me exactly what I’m asking for: he takes his cock out of Sloane’s ass and, standing up, he walks around Sloane and I and stops right in front of me.

  I look at him, grimacing as I feel Sloane’s cock throbbing inside, but I still find the strength necessary to reach for him and start to stroke him. Using only one had for support, I move the other one back and forth over Drake’s shaft as fast as I can, hell bent on driving him to the edge and pushing him down.

  “Fuck,” he whispers, more to himself than to me. In that exact moment, I see a drop of cum glistening on the tip of his cock. Before I even have any time to reach, a long strand of semen gushes from his cock and hits me straight in the face.

  Once again working in sync with Drake, Sloane’s cock starts spasming inside my pussy, sending ripples of ecstasy through my inner walls, and I feel his warm juices filling me up to the brim in a matter of seconds.

  “Oh, God,” I moan as I feel Sloane’s cum dripping out of my pussy and making their way down my legs, pooling on the floor around my knees. At the same time, Drake is still using me for target practice; grabbing his cock, he points at me and sprays my face and back with his seed, gooey strands of it caressing my naked skin.

  I remain like that, on all fours, as both men unleash hell over my body. They empty their loads all over and they only stop when they’re satisfied.

  “I know I’ve told you this before, but you look lovely like this,” Drake tells me with a teasing grin, going down to his knees in front of me. He makes me raise my chin, placing two fingers under it, and then leans into me and crushes his mouth against mine. His tongue pushes its way past my lips and he dances with it around my own.

  Sloane pulls back from me at the same time, but he keeps his focus on my pussy. He digs his fingers into my ass cheeks and, leaning into me, he wraps his lips against my folds and sucks them into his mouth, running his tongue over them and licking them dry.

  He only stops when he has licked my pussy dry and, when that happens, he walks around me and joins Drake. I kiss him too, giving him a taste of Drake’s cum, and then I just fall into their arms.

  “You’re my everything,” I tell both, feeling the warmness of their naked bodies against my own.

  They wrap their big arms around me, holding me tightly.

  “You are too,” they say at the same time and, right now, everything’s all right with the world.

  Love—sometimes it really solves everything.

  Natalie

  Epilogue

  “I have some big news for you two!” Sloane says as he walks inside the apartment, a bottle of expensive champagne tucked under his elbow.

  I’m in the kitchen with Drake, taking care of dinner, and Sloane comes up behind us and smacks both of our asses at the same time. “I said I have big news,” he repeats, placing the bottle of champagne on the counter and grinning.

  “Well? Out with it then!”

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Dirty ‘Lil Angels just broke one hundred million dollars in revenue,” he says, barely able to contain his excitement. He grabs the bottle and pushes the cork out with a flick from his thumb, and it flies straight into the ceiling and then ricochets down to my feet.

  “One hundred million?” I repeat, trying to do the math inside my head. That’s a lot of sales, especially for a company as young as mine. Well, I shouldn’t be this surprised; after all, my prototype was a complete success. But, still, one hundred million? I never expected to make that much money.

  It’s been one year since launch, and a lot happened since then.

  To start with, Mom is in jail. Federal charges of extortion and intent to defame were levied against her literally within hours after our press conference. We didn’t find out because…well, we were fucking. Remember?

  She’s out of our lives forever.

  Let’s talk about fun things.

  About the companyI rented the whole floor of a building and set up a real Dirty ‘Li
l Angels headquarters. I have almost two hundred people working for me now, and I figure I’ll have to open a new office somewhere in Europe soon. And perhaps another in Asia.

  It’s crazy, I know, but that’s not even the best part. You see, we got married. Not in the States, of course, they’d never allow three people to love each other. That’d just be indecent. Yeah, right.

  So, we did what we had to do. We flew to one of these crazy countries in Asia where everything goes, and held a private ceremony at the beach—close friends only. So, yeah, it’s not like the US government will ever recognize we’re married, but I couldn’t care less about it.

  To be honest, I didn’t even care that much about getting married. But both Sloane and Drake wanted to walk up the altar arm-in-arm with me and, now that we did, I couldn’t be any happier. It was just a ceremony but, in a sense, it cemented what the three of us felt. And, besides, the ceremony was amazing.

  After we returned state side, we all sold off our apartments and bought a bigger one at One57, the building where Sloane lived. Our apartment is so big that I sometimes lose myself in here—all right, all right, I’m exaggerating. But at three thousand square feet, I have to brag about it, don’t I? I mean, nine rooms? I feel like a princess.

  “Let’s drink!” Sloane cries out, grabbing three glasses from the cupboard and lining them up on the counter. He fills them up, grabs one and then pushes another toward me. I just look down at the glass, hesitant, and then push it back to Sloane.

  “I can’t,” I tell him, a smile creeping up on my lips. I guess now’s the time to let them know. Now, don’t look at me like that; I just found out this afternoon, and I’ve been thinking about how I should tell them. In the end, though, I guess I don’t need to be fancy about it, despite all of our money, we’re simple people, and that simplicity makes us happy.

  “What? We’re celebrating! You have to drink,” Drake protests, downing his glass with one single gulp. And then his eyes widen. He takes one step back, looking at me as if I suddenly caught fire. “Holy shit.”

  “What? What is it?” Sloane asks, looking from me to Drake with a confused expression on his face. Smiling, I place my hand on top of my belly.

  “We’re having a baby,” I whisper, and Sloane grows so pale I think he might pass out.

  “A baby? Like, you mean… You’re pregnant?” he mutters, his eyes widening as much as Sloane’s. “Gimme that,” he says, reaching for my abandoned glass and emptying it on the sink. Despite his bad boy persona, Sloane sure as hell can be the kindest man. “No more drinking for you.”

  “And more for us,” Drake says excitedly, pouring himself another glass and laughing. “A baby! Jesus, can you imagine it? We’re going to be parents!”

  “Parents,” Sloane whispers, more to himself than to us, allowing everything to sink in. I figure he never saw himself as a father, but the silly smile he has on his face right now tells me that he’s as happy as I am.

  I smile inwardly, happiness flooding through me as I take in their reaction. I was a bit worried, you see? But that was me being silly. I was worried that they’d asked the dreaded ‘who’s the father?’, but I should’ve known better: they couldn’t care less about who’s the father. And, as far as they are concerned, they're absolutely right about that; they’re both the fathers of this child, and I know they’re both going to love him the same.

  “Oh,” I cry out as Sloane sweeps me off my feet and picks me up from the floor. Carrying me in his arms, he walks out of the kitchen and then looks back at Drake over his shoulder.

  “You comin’?” he asks him, “We need to celebrate.”

  “I’m coming,” Drake replies with a grin, following us to the master bedroom. Sloane lays me down on the mattress gently—perhaps a bit too gently—and they both lay down by my side. I kiss Sloane and then Drake, and then I let a bright laugh slip out from between my lips.

  My God, I’m so happy right now. And to think that just over a year ago my life was a complete mess: fighting my mother, trying to secure my company… And now, just look at me! I have more money than I can count and a multi-million dollar apartment!

  But that’s almost insignificant, you know? Because I don’t care about money, wealth, or luxury. I’m not my mother, after all. There are only two things I care about in this world: Drake and Sloane. Well, three things now, since we’re having a baby.

  Our family just keeps growing.

  And so does our happiness.

  Stories From The 6 Train

  *In New York City, HEA is just a subway ride away…*

  Come follow ten couples as they meet, flirt, and play.

  A cowboy looking for love. An ex-SEAL dealing with scars.

  A billionaire. A rockstar. A biker. A professor, and a virgin.

  Each looking for love. And finding it, as their lives touch each other.

  *In a city that never sleeps, this collection will keep you awake. *

  Each sizzling tale delicately intertwined with the others.

  Stories that will make you smile. And stories that will make you sigh.

  *Stand clear of the closing doors. This train is about to make you come…*

  Foreword

  For 5 years, I lived in New York City. I woke up in my Midtown East one bedroom apartment in Beekman Place and went for a run along the East River. I got home at 6:45 and got ready for work and was on the 6 train at 51st Street and Lexington Avenue headed towards Wall Street. Five days a week. 52 weeks a year, minus any vacations.

  To say I’ve seen some things during that time would be an understatement. I’ve seen the best and worst in people.

  I’ve seen moments that touched my heart. And scenes that made me ashamed to be a human being.

  But through it all, there was a common theme. An undercurrent.

  For anyone who is familiar with my writing, one of the themes that run through it is my predilection to set the story in New York City.

  There’s no other city in the world that takes the best in people, combines it with the worst and creates a melting pot of absolute gritty perfection.

  Like a wealthy, unshaven, well-dressed, handsome, man. A hint of danger. A touch of familiarity. A sense of being part of something greater than anything else. Feeling part of history just by walking the streets. As if you’re in the center of the world. Crossroads of humanity.

  This is a book of love stories in multiple forms. Love stories between man and woman. Between various professions and statuses. And between me and the city I love where I spend 6 months of my life each year.

  These stories are pre-Alexis Angel. They were written by me when I lived in New York City. They were never published. Until today.

  I hope you enjoy them.

  Love,

  Alexis

  Adrienne & Reese

  Adrienne

  “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  I practically snarl the words over my shoulder as I elbow my way past the sweaty, greasy man in front of me. My new—and now equally greasy—red Louboutins hit the platform at the bottom of the stairs leading into the Thirty-third Street station, and I keep up my pace, not bothering to listen to the offensive words spewing from his mouth.

  I don’t have time for this. My boss already kept me late in the office going over my new position as an executive marketing consultant at Dover Street Market. Normally something I’d be totally cool with. But today I have an appointment to view a new apartment and I cannot be late. It’s a good one, guaranteed to be snatched up if I miss my appointment. And with my current lease ending in a matter of days, I need to grab it fast.

  I swipe my metro card through the turnstile and break into a run—not an easy task in my impractical and now filthy designer heels. A stream of people is already pouring into the 6 Train. I manage to slip through the doors just before they slide closed and slump against the edge of the seat next to me.

  “Well, that’s just perfect,” I mutter, bending down and examining my shoes. Mr. Greasy
McNasty left a huge scuff on them in addition to the grease marks. I want to be charitable and accept that it was just an accident, that anyone could have lost their balance and almost knock me down the stairs in the crowded rush hour terminal. But then I notice that he somehow snagged my thigh-high silk stockings. There’s a giant rip going all the way from my ankle up past the hem of my pencil skirt. How the hell?

  I stick my leg out as far as I can on the crowded train and trail my finger up the tear, lifting my skirt to see just how bad the damage is.

  Dammit! All the way to the top where my garter belt is clipped onto it. This is how I’m going to arrive to try to score one of the best apartment deals on the Upper East Side that I’ve ever seen—Adrienne Rhodes, a complete and utter hot mess.

  Not if I can help it!

  Knowing this is the only chance I’ll get to undo some of the damage, I turn back toward the door and reach up my skirt and unfasten the clips on my right thigh. I glance furtively around, hoping no one is paying attention. Yeah, I’m on a crowded public train with my hand up my skirt, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do when a killer apartment is on the line.

  I slide the stocking down my leg and slip my foot from my damaged shoe, pulling the tattered silk off and stuffing it in my Prada bag. Just as I start to slide my shoe back on, the train jerks to a stop at Grand Central, throwing my already precarious balance way off. I grab for the pole next to me, but it’s too late.

  I’m falling.

  I’m about to land on my ass on the floor of a subway train. As if I don’t already have enough ruined clothing for one day.

  Realizing there’s not a damn thing I can do about it, I close my eyes and brace for the impact. But then they fly wide open.