First Comes Love: A Billionaires, Brides, and Babies Romance

by Alexis Angel

  She kisses my neck and looks up at me with a laugh of her own lingering on her lips.

  “Wanna go again?” she asks me.

  I fall in love with her right then and there.

  “You sure you’re up for it?”

  She nods, and I can already feel myself hardening inside her cunt again.

  “I think I’ve earned it,” she informs me. “Besides…I’d love to know what they think about us next door.”

  Alexis and WineBar #2

  So, WineBar was kind of an asshole.

  I mean, what do you expect? He owned a bar. Actually more than one. It was asshole borne out of the confidence of being right.

  I hated him.

  But I could see myself falling in love with him.

  He was too cocky. Too sure of himself. Too confident that he could spin me up, make me laugh, and then leave me hanging.

  A moment with him would leave me forgetting everything going on in my head. All the problems of the world would become silly little annoyances.

  Just like the first time I met him.

  I remember telling my friend, let’s call her Lana, that I couldn’t stand him.

  “Oh my God,” she said after a particularly long rant. “You so love him.”

  “I do not!” I protested.

  “You want to have like all his babies!” she pushed back, making a face as I stuck my tongue out at her.

  We were sitting in a coffee shop in San Francisco. The morning commuter rush of people walked by us on Market Street and they watched us with raised eyebrows.

  And then my phone vibrated.

  It was WineBar.

  He told me he wanted to have dinner with me.

  Didn’t ask.

  Just told me what he wanted.

  And my heart froze.

  Because I said yes, but all I could think was the following:

  “This is the cockiest guy I’ve ever met in my life.”

  Laura & Jeremy

  One

  Laura

  The beat vibrating through the dance floor pulses through me as I move along to the rhythm. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt a need to let loose, but tonight is an exception.

  Being broken up with over a text message isn’t only impersonal, it’s cowardice. Like, he didn’t even have the nerve to approach me in person and explain how over the course of the last two years, he somehow developed some level of disdain for me.

  Nope. He just hid it.

  The whole time.

  And when I just seek understanding on all of it, he shuts me down and says I’m just a nagging bitch.

  I feel like I’m in high school again. If you hate me, fine. So be it.

  But at least have the audacity to be honest about it, and more importantly, have some reasoning to back yourself up.

  I walk back to our table. As I push my sweat-dripped hair back, I see Jeremy just standing with his back against the mirror-lined wall. He’s a great friend for coming out with me and trying to get my mind off of the jerk that left me without any reasoning.

  It’s not healthy to sit and question why over and over. So instead, tonight, we drink, laugh, dance, and goof off like we did years ago when we first became friends.

  As I approach the table, I let out a heavy sigh.

  Dancing now is a lot more exhausting than it was in college. I think when you get out into the real world, it takes a big toll on your ability to shake your ass for hours on end.

  “Are you having a good time?” I ask Jeremy, who has just been a wallflower since he got a beer from the bar. So not like him.

  “Yeah! Absolutely. I’m entertained. You’re really killing it out there, Laura,” he answers.

  “Why don’t you come out here and join me?”

  “Nah, I think I’m good right here,” he replies.

  I latch onto that inner frat boy and try my best to drag it out of him.

  “Oh, come on! When’s the next time we’ll be here? Realistically, it could be a last hurrah for us,” I insist.

  He considers it. I see it in his lips as he gives me that trademark half-smirk and his eyes roll up as though he’s actually looking at a thought bubble over his head.

  But he stays right there against the wall, even as I start tugging at his wrist to come with me. I glare at him to show my displeasure, take a sip of my Sex on the Beach, and return to the dance floor alone.

  And there’s the one thing I don’t see eye-to-eye on with him. He always recognizes a good time and always wants to be around it, but lately he never wants to be a part of it.

  I can’t think of a single reason for him to not get out here and dance with me.

  Shit, he could even find a hot girl for himself and take her home with him.

  I’m not going to lie. If someone approached me tonight trying to give me a good time, I’d probably do it. I’m fragile, full of bad judgement, and incredibly horny now that I don’t have regular, guaranteed sex in the palm of my hand.

  I rotate myself on the dance floor to get a view of anything other than Jeremy just hanging out against the wall, and I get pumped up when I hear the next song starting. I look out ahead of me in the crowd as my hips start swaying rhythmically to the melody. It’s one of those songs you could get really hot and heavy with someone to.

  My hands travel from my shoulders, caressing my breasts, and down to my hips. I’m enjoying touching myself, and I’m fine with anyone and everyone knowing it.

  My light blue tank top barely contains my perky, size-E tits and my erect nipples, hard through the slightly sheer material.

  I’m getting some very hungry stares from some lustful, sexy twenty-somethings.

  As if seeing my tits isn’t enough, I’m also sporting a mini skirt, my black G-string thong totally visible from the sides and the back, my ass cheeks just peeking out from the bottom of the skirt.

  I look fucking hot.

  I’m absolutely smoking.

  Every other girl in this club is giving me the stink eye, and every man here is just eating me up. But as I scan the crowd, I come to realize there’s not one man here that I could see handling the fucking volcano that I am behind closed doors. They’re all in their first couple years of college, and I’m about four years into an actual career.

  I don’t think they would understand, but there’s just so much difference in that time, especially in terms of sexual development. Everyone loves a good fuck, but your definition of a good fuck changes in that time, and we’re just not on the same wavelength.

  Eat your hearts out, boys.

  My buzz is wearing off, and I’m getting a little too real for myself right now, coming to the obvious conclusion that I need another drink.

  Just when I go to step off the dance floor, I’m taken aback by a couple that’s standing toward the far edge of the floor, the guy rubbing the chick’s pussy through her skin-tight leggings.

  She’s got her back against his chest, and her head rests against his shoulder. Her arm is hooked around his neck, and she’s grinding against his cock as his finger is between her well-pronounced slit, rubbing her clit through her thin fabric.

  I only see it happening for a moment, but it affects me.

  Just seeing the raw passion between the two of them sends a jolt through my body and a pooling wetness in my panties.

  Christ.

  I need that next drink.

  Two

  Jeremy

  As Laura struts through the crowd and back to the bar, I bring my beer up to my lips and tilt my head back to enjoy another sip of the crisp IPA I’ve decided on for the evening.

  I’m not really too much of a drinker. Never have been. But tonight, picking up the pieces of Laura that were strewn about in her apartment made me require a little help to get myself to a more relaxed headspace.

  It looks to me like she’s having a decent time. She’s realizing that we’re some of the few people here that aren’t in college anymore, and I think it rattles her cage a little.
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  Not that she doesn’t fit into the party scene. She’s kept the body of a goddess the entire time I’ve known her, and Jesus Christ, does she know how to work it out there.

  Laura’s always been the type of person who doesn’t like wasting time on nonsense. She wants as much of her experiences as possible to add value to her life.

  So wasting a couple of good ‘living it up’ years on a douchebag? Fucked her up.

  Let me be clear—I think she was actually fucking happy with the dude. That’s the killer. She was willing to give up so much for him, only for him to just not give a flying fuck about her in the end.

  I take another swig of my drink.

  I’ve spent the better part of the night making sure Laura’s having a good time, and I think I just managed to piss her off.

  I don’t dance.

  Everywhere I go, women flock to me. Not a bad thing, I guess, but I’m getting fucking tired of the meaninglessness of it all.

  If I go out there and dance, I’m more than certain it’ll call unnecessary attention to me. And then the eyes that have been literally all on Laura will be distracted, and I just don’t need that for her. I want her to have this moment.

  Besides, getting a full view of that body from right here is about fucking perfect.

  I go to take another drink.

  “How are you doing tonight?” a sultry voice whispers in my left ear.

  I’ve been so distracted, just keeping my eyes on Laura all night, that I didn’t notice this girl.

  I turn my head to address her, and she full on drunk kisses me. Tongue and all.

  I’m not a rude guy. So what do I do?

  My dumb ass kisses her back.

  I mean, what else am I supposed to do?

  Her tongue wildly explores my mouth, flicking against the tip of mine and even grazing over my teeth. Her mouth tastes like Cuervo. I don’t want to be a dick, because again, I’m a nice guy, but I fucking hate tequila.

  I power through it, though, because even though it’s sloppy, it’s not exactly the worst thing that could be happening.

  When our lips finally part, all I see is Laura, standing stock-still on the dance floor, mouth wide open, eyes unblinking. The look of shock on her face is something I’ve never seen in our years of friendship.

  It suddenly makes me question whether or not I should have reciprocated kissing this random chick. And what’s that about anyway? But fuck, she appeared so quickly I couldn’t even tell you what she looked like.

  My heart races as she stomps over to me, drink in hand. I brace myself, ready to have it thrown on me for doing something stupid.

  “You jackass! All you had to do was say you saw someone you had your eye on. I wouldn’t have tried to drag you out to the floor with me.”

  “Oh. Her? No, Laura. Fuck, no. I’m not interested at all! I just—”

  And there’s the drink. But it’s not Laura’s. And rather than just in my mouth, I now have tequila sunrise on my face and soaking my shirt.

  “Fuck you, you dick!” the sassy redhead shouts as she slams her glass on the table next to me and storms off.

  “Um”

  Her face shows nothing but sheer confusion. I can’t say I have much more clarity on the whole ordeal myself.

  “This girl just came up to me and decided to use my mouth for a game of tonsil hockey. I was caught off-guard. What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to be rude!”

  “Oh my god. Are you serious?” she continues, a slight smirk on her face. “That’s fucking wild.”

  Laura takes another sip of her drink. If I had to guess, she’s switched to Green Dinosaurs because the Sex on the Beach wasn’t enough liquor for her. Laura the Lush.

  If there’s anything I know about Laura after years of partying with her, it’s that she likes to go from zero to hammered in no time flat. If there were some way to measure a record for most responsible to most reckless under the influence of alcohol, she’d win. Hands down.

  I sigh.

  “Hey. I think I’m gonna go out to the back and smoke,” I say to Laura. All of the commotion has me really itching for a cigarette. “Do you want to come out?”

  She takes a long gulp of her drink, finishing it off. Damn, she’s fast.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  We make our way out to the back of the building to the smokers’ area. The cool air nips at our skin as we walk along the path to where the ashtrays are.

  “Brrrr. I’m freezing!” Laura exclaims, hugging her shoulders. Her tiny clothes aren’t exactly protective from the climate.

  “You should have brought your jacket,” I comment, lighting the end of my cigarette. I take a quick drag and blow out the smoke.

  I place my cigarette on the edge of the ashtray and remove my jacket and place it around her shoulders. “There.”

  “Thanks, Jer.”

  I pick up my cigarette and take a long drag. As I turn to blow the smoke out in the opposite direction of Laura, I’m caught off guard by what’s practically in front of me—and cough it all out instead.

  Three

  Laura

  I pat Jeremy’s back as he coughs smoke, trying to expel it all from his lungs. My eyes are locked on his face, and my heart is beating hard and fast, trying to make sure he’s okay.

  “Jeremy?” I call out. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  He continues to cough and starts using his elbow to cover his mouth.

  “Remember how I fucking told you to quit smoking? Shit like this is why,” I state, really laying it on thick with the mom-like lecture while he’s suffering.

  Then I remember when Jer told me that the douchebag wasn’t right for me.

  All that concern Jeremy had for me. I actually fought with him about how he felt, when in reality, I should have been thankful that he was so concerned.

  Shit. He’s still coughing.

  I’ve seriously had way too much alcohol to be the one to handle this, but I do my best to channel my inner survivalist.

  I study him, holding his back and his chest, and I begin to take deep breaths in and out, trying to coax him into doing the same. It takes a good amount of pushing to even get him breathing. He’s just fucking coughing.

  “Jeremy. You need to breathe. Come on, dude,” I insist.

  Finally, he gets in a few short breaths. They slowly get deeper and more promising.

  Within a few deep breaths, Jeremy’s lungs decide they’re ready to function again.

  Phew.

  Let it be known to the world that if survival was on me and if breathing couldn’t fix the problem, we’d be goners.

  I don’t ever want to be an EMT or a nurse or a doctor or any of that shit. It’s way too fucking stressful.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I exclaim. “You scared me half to death, Jer.”

  “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he replies. “I just didn’t expect to see that.”

  Jeremy is pointing ahead of us, just a handful of feet away. I turn my head to where he’s directing his attention, and I gasp just slightly at the sight before us a little ways away.

  The couple I saw out on the dance floor…the ones who were all but in each other’s pants off to the edge of the crowd? They’re going at it even harder in an alleyway between two buildings.

  The girl’s luscious blonde locks are tousled all over her head, some of it drooping over her face and covering the gorgeous blue eyes I saw inside. Like, her eyes are the color that everyone wishes they had.

  And not to mention she’s got an absolutely smokin’ body. Shit, the dude going at her knows it, too. He can’t stop touching her.

  Shit. Is that fucking Emilia?

  God, I haven’t seen her in…four years? We were like, partying besties back in the day, and now she’s got some guy getting into her pants. In public! And she was the tame one!

  Well, fuck. Good for her. I resist the urge to shout something ridiculous like ‘You go, girl!’ at her and wreck her moment.

 
“Should we go inside?” asks Jeremy. He’s clearly not sure.

  “Oh, please. I can’t imagine they’d be going at each other like this if they didn’t at least enjoy the thought of somebody maybe watching them,” I respond. “Besides, don’t you want to see what happens?”

  “I don’t know, Laura…”

  “Jeremy! Stop thinking so hard. Just live in the moment tonight, eh?”

  Jeremy says nothing and backs himself against the side of the building, tilting his head enough to see the two of them still going at it.

  I watch as Emilia slowly lifts her leg up and wraps it around the tall, handsome man’s hip and thigh. Her black Louboutins have a sexy sheen in the glow of the street light, adding even more allure to the already insanely sexy vibe she gives off.

  His head tilts and turns, complementing hers and switching directions as their lips lock in a passionate, dramatic kiss. What I saw on the dance floor was a mere appetizer for these two.

  God, I would kill to have this much passion in my life.

  I can’t tell if it’s just watching this guy grind his cock against this girl’s pussy, the only barrier being their clothing, or if it’s the deprivation or the alcohol…but I’m so fucking horny right now.

  I literally cannot tear my eyes away from them.

  I’m so full of lust and desire that my pussy lips are literally aching for attention. Right there in the middle of the smokers’ area, I start rubbing my thighs together, forcing my thong to tease against my clit.

  I look around quickly and realize there’s benches out here and promptly sit myself down with my hands between my legs. I try to be inconspicuous about it at first, just rubbing my fingers against my clit through my thong.

  But as the two of them get even more into it, seeing him thrusting his cock against her, dry humping her against the building and groping hard at her tits, I get a little bolder.

  I spread my legs and slide my fingers into my dripping pussy, using that sexy couple as my own live action pornography.