WineBar: The Complete Story

by Alexis Angel

  I take a deep breath, ready to explain the best I can.

  “The type of thing I do—it can be an escape, sure. Being with you, though, and even the whole wild ride leading up to it, that’s been an escape too. An incredible, breathtaking, whirlwind escape. Doesn’t that sound like a book to you?”

  Kirk matches my smile with one of his own.

  “Maybe.”

  Kirk’s up from the bed now, pacing around my bedroom. He’s thinking about it.

  I sit up. I’m determined to get him on board, and I’m also excited to get started. I’m excited about the way everything worked out.

  “What are you planning to include?” Kirk’s becoming more enthusiastic with every step he takes around the room. He’s starting to warm up to the idea.

  “I like that you think that I’m planning details already.”

  “Baby, I know you’re planning details already. You can’t bullshit me!”

  Kirk walks back to the bed. And so it’s set...or so I think.

  “There’s going to be a barbecue,” Kirk states, sitting back down on the bed.

  “There’s going to be the barbecue, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I’m not asking.”

  “Hmm” is all I say.

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  Kirk laughs, playing it off like the joke it kinda is.

  “I think I like it when you act all alpha,” I tease.

  He suddenly has me on my back, and he’s hovering over me, one leg hooked over his shoulder. Just like that, I’m already wet.

  He rakes his gaze down my body, and I can practically feel every nerve blaze to life as he does.

  “Is that so? Well, in that case, let me tell you what else your readers want to know. They want to hear all about how I make you cum over and over, screaming my name as I drill my cock into you hard and fast.”

  I can’t breathe. God, he’s so fucking hot when he talks dirty.

  “They want to hear how you can’t get enough of me. How you love it when I cum all over you and how you lick up every last drop.”

  Oh god. I grind my hips up against him. I’m so fucking turned on.

  He laughs. “Is this going to be in the book?”

  I pretend to think about it for a minute.

  “Maybe. We’ll see.”

  “It fucking better be.”

  Then I smile, and Kirk laughs. But not for long. Because the next thing I know, he’s doing exactly what he said, making me cum over and over in the mind-blowing, earth-shattering way only he can.

  It’s an amazing day in San Francisco…the first day of the rest of our lives.

  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 eight hot reads attached.

  •Head Hunter by Alexis Angel

  •Single TV Dad by Alexis Angel

  •Python by Alexis Angel

  •Alicia Vs. Billionaire by Mona Cox

  •Dirty Daddy by Alexis Angel

  •DILF by Alexis Angel

  •Hit & Run by Abby Angel

  •Naughty Angel Letters by Alexis Angel

  Thank you so much for reading!!

  xoxoxo

  Alexis Angel

  Head Hunter

  Open wide, baby. You’ve just met the Head Hunter.

  26 year old untamed billionaire alpha male with the body of a Greek god.

  And…the world’s oldest male virgin.

  You read that right.

  Haven’t found anyone who can handle my magic stick.

  Not that there haven’t been women who try.

  They bat their pretty eyelashes as they grind their ass against me.

  What they don’t realize is I may be a virgin, but I’m still a player.

  In minutes, I’ve got them on their knees instead of on their back.

  The day I find a woman my equal…well, that’s the day the Head Hunter catches his final prey.

  The one he feasts on forever.

  Till then the only question is…

  Spit? Or swallow?

  Carter

  Fuck yeah.

  I lean my head back on the leather seat in my hotel penthouse and grin like the cocky bastard I am. I don’t even know this girl’s name—I just met her tonight, but she’s going down on me like this is her last chance to ever suck a cock. Resting my hand on the back of her head, I push her down even further, making her take my huge cock all the way down her throat.

  When she gags a little, I ease up and let myself enjoy the wet slurping sounds she makes while she drags her tongue up and down my shaft, and then circles it around my thick head.

  It’s a decent blowjob. I’ve had better. I’ve had worse. In fact, I’ve had fucking thousands of blowjobs. Bitches line up to blow me. Makes my job as easy as it gets because I get paid to get head.

  Well, kind of.

  Allow me to explain. I’m Carter Blaine, star of the hit show Head Hunter. That should say it all, but just in case you haven’t heard of me, let me give you the details.

  I’m twenty-six years old and the world’s oldest alpha male virgin. That’s right. This twelve-inch cock that’s currently being sucked and licked has never been inside a woman. Not in the way that counts. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I get off on the regular. Like daily. Like I said, the ladies line up to get this cock in their mouths. Or in their asses.

  But technically, I’m still a virgin. Oral and anal sex don’t count. What counts is that my cock has never been inside a woman’s pussy.

  Why the fuck would I do that? A good question, especially considering the media has crowned me as one of the sexiest billionaires in the world. I can have any woman I want. I do get any woman I want. But let me tell you something. People love the idea that I’m waiting until I meet the woman I’m going to marry to have sex. They love it so much that I’m one of the richest young billionaires in the country. I have my own reality show empire.

  Head Hunter is one of the most watched shows for the fifth year running. For the past five years I’ve made a fortune marketing myself as a virgin … and not just any virgin. Remember, I’m one of the hottest alpha billionaires on the planet. Getting some pussy isn’t a problem. But here’s the thing. If I stay a virgin, I make serious bank. To the tune of ten million dollars per episode that I don’t give it up. But it’s become a bit of a joke.

  Like I said, women line up to get a piece of me because each one is determined to be the one to make me give in. Each one thinks she has a magic pussy or some bullshit like that. But the joke’s on them because I have an iron will. And each and every one of them can’t resist me. By the end of every show, I’m getting head, and getting ass. Basically getting off.

  Every. Fucking. Time.

  Why the fuck would I actually fuck someone when I can get head and make a cool ten mil? Yeah. I wouldn’t.

  “Uh…mmm…oh,” the chick moans as she bobs her head up and down on my cock. She’s doing a pretty good job, so I return the favor and reach under her skirt and slide my fingers inside her soaking pussy. She clenches around me and comes immediately.

  See? That’s how fucking horny I make these women. One touch from me and they explode.

  She sucks me even faster, pumping her hand up and down my shaft in time with her head, and I feel my balls tighten. Yanking her up off my cock, I shoot jet after hot jet of cum all over her face, and she looks like she loves every fucking second of it.

  I smirk. This won’t make it onto the actual show due to censorship, but you better believe there'll be some leaks on the web. It’s all part of the marketing. We make sure people can’t get enough of this. And that keeps them tuning in week after week.

  Pushing the girl aside and leaving her to clean herself up, I tuck my cock away and stand up, wa
lking across my hotel room to pour myself a drink. I don’t even bother to look back at her. She’ll be out of here in the next few minutes, having failed at what she came here for and making me ten million richer in the process. The sooner the better. We’re moving out of here tonight.

  The next season of the show is filming in New York City.

  Glancing back at the girl, I see that she’s headed to the restroom, so I decide to make a break for it. I’m not in the mood for having to deal with the brush off. They don’t always get clingy, but occasionally they do. I’m always like, what the fuck? They know what they signed up for. I shake my head. There are always the few that seem to think they’re different or special or some shit.

  Come on, really? They come on a show where the whole idea is for me to convince them to blow me but they think they might be The One?

  I head out of the penthouse, rolling my eyes at the idea, then knock on the door across the hall where the control room is and walk in without waiting for an answer.

  “Hey, man,” Chase calls out. He’s the head of filming. “Nice job with the cum shot.”

  I should feel weird that all these cameras were on me while I was getting my dick sucked, but I’m used to it.

  Instead, I just smirk and jerk my head once. “I’m headed out but I just wanted to make sure you knew I didn’t have sex with her at any point tonight. Check the camera crew that followed me if you need to verify.” I turn, ready to leave, and then add, “I expect the next ten million in my account tomorrow morning.”

  “You know it, man,” Chase says, shaking his head in awe like he always does. “I don’t know how you do this week after week.”

  I laugh. “What, get head?”

  He nods. “That too, but I mean how you still convince them that’s what they want to do after all this time.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I wink. “It's what they want to do. What can I say?”

  “One of these days you’re going to find someone you want for more than just some head.”

  I look at him like he’s crazy. This shit is way too lucrative to even think about having sex with someone. I’m the fucking Head Hunter. “Yeah right, dude. I’ve got it made. What else could I possibly want?”

  Chase laughs, but he still looks skeptical. Whatever.

  Time to head out. “Let’s go, man. Time to hit up the Big Apple.”

  Ashley

  “Oh, baby,” the guy groans, “you’re so fucking sexy.”

  I bend at the waist and make sure he has a perfect view of my ass in my black lace lingerie, rolling my eyes as I do so. This guy may think I’m hot, but he's so fucking not.

  He smacks my ass, making me jump, and I decide right then and there that there’s no way I’m sleeping with him. Not that I mind having my ass slapped. But this guy is so not doing it for me.

  I turn around and straddle him, schooling my expression into one of desperate lust as I rub my pussy against the cock tenting his over-priced designer suit pants.

  “I’m gonna fuck you so good. Better than you’ve ever been fucked before,” he says, panting as he swipes a hand across his sweaty brow.

  Um. No.

  It takes everything I have not to wrinkle my nose in disgust. I highly doubt he could even get me off, much less give me the best fuck of my life. I mean, the guy’s packing a decent size cock from what I can tell, but he’s sweating like a damn pig, his bald head shining in the light I have on above us in the hotel room.

  Instead, I bite my lip and lean in, shoving my tits in his face as I grip the sides of his head and force him to look up at me. “Tell me how,” I say in a low, breathy voice that makes his cock twitch.

  “How?” he asks, confused.

  Jesus Christ. “Yes,” I breathe. “Talk dirty to me.”

  Maybe I can get him so worked up that I can make him cum without having to actually do much. We don’t need much out of this one.

  I grip the little bit of hair at the back of his head and bring my mouth inches from his, steeling myself for what I have to do.

  It’s all part of the job, Ashley, I remind myself. The clients aren’t usually this repulsive, though.

  Grinding my hips on his cock, I lean in and bite his lip, tugging gently, angling my head to make sure everything we’re doing is visible through the floor-to-ceiling glass that lines the wall of the hotel room, looking out on Manhattan. If I’m going to get out of here without actually fucking the guy, I need to make sure to set up some good shots.

  “Touch me,” I whisper, hoping he can’t tell how totally not turned on I actually am.

  His meaty hands come up to cup my tits, squeezing clumsily, and I tilt my head back and let out a very fake but well-practiced moan.

  He pants even harder, his breath coming so fast that I start worrying he might go into cardiac arrest. A strangled grunt comes out of his mouth, and I know he’s close.

  God, it’s almost too easy.

  I’m pretty sure it won’t take much more. Reaching down, I slide my hand into my panties and start rubbing my clit, closing my eyes and imagining I’m here with someone else. I resort to my favorite fantasy. Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to get the job done. And I’m a professional. The best in the business, in fact.

  Which is why in spite of this completely unsexy man with his face in between my tits, I’m still able to get wet.

  Pulling my fingers out, coated with my juices, I lift them to his mouth and tease his lips. He opens up and I slide my finger inside, letting him taste me.

  “Fuck,” he groans. “You taste so damn good.”

  “I want your mouth on my pussy,” I purr. I so fucking don’t. But the senator who I’m currently seducing has no clue.

  With a growl, he yanks down my bra and clamps his mouth around my nipple. That’s my cue. I angle my body to make sure we’re nice and visible, then take his hand and make him cup my pussy, letting out a cry that sounds needy and desperate.

  Yeah, I desperately need to get this guy off so I can get out.

  And that’s all it takes. He convulses and cries out, and I smile in satisfaction. I just made this guy jizz in his pants. His hand on my pussy, his mouth on my tit—the perfect money shot.

  They don’t pay me the big bucks for nothing.

  I fake a little orgasm of my own so that he feels like he did his job. The last thing I want is for him to try to keep going and return the favor.

  Then I climb off his lap and give him a wink as I bite my lip. He barely even notices. I needn’t have worried about him wanting to make sure I’m taken care of. He got what he came for.

  But so did I.

  Grabbing my clothes, I make a quick trip to the bathroom and dress quickly, glad this job is done.

  Sometimes I wonder what the fuck I do this for. But then I remember the fat stacks of cash I rake in from the richest companies and executives in the world.

  No, I’m not a hooker. I’m not a stripper. I’m a professional seductress. I’m paid by some of the top dogs of the top industries to bend politicians and executives to my will. To make them do the dirty things that'll turn wife and country against them.

  All so they can be blackmailed.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some evil black-widow type man-hater. But there are some evil dudes in this world. Many of them in politics and business. They’ve got some rotten agendas. Basically I’m just doing my part to make the world a better place by taking out the douchebags of the world.

  Like this senator.

  The asshole was almost too easy to manipulate. I know we got some good pictures on this one. Good thing, too. Now the people who hired me can be sure to get their legislation passed. See, this southern senator is one of the key votes that could affect a new bill coming up. He wants to ban teddy bears made in China from being sold in America. The company that makes the bears hired me, and now they have the pictures they need to blackmail this guy into voting their way.

  What? You thought the American political system
was on the up and up? Nope. These guys can be swayed to do what the big companies want them to do. And I use my body to make it happen.

  I only take jobs I believe in, though. It’s my way of helping out the country. You’re welcome.

  I’ve actually built it into a thriving business. It started out just me, but I now have a team of women working for me to bring down the assholes of the world.

  Fluffing my hair up, I give myself one last glance in the mirror and leave the hotel room without a second glance at the good senator.

  Just as I make my way onto the sidewalk outside the hotel, my phone rings. I stop and dig through my purse to find it, my eye on a limo that comes to a stop in front of me.

  My assistant’s face is smiling at me from the screen, and I swipe the glass to answer. Does she have another job lined up for me already? “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I have an important client that wants to talk to you.” Her normally chipper voice sounds a little subdued, like she’s in shock or something. Hmm, must be an interesting job.

  “Okay, when?”

  “I was just told to pass along a message. Get into the limo.”

  Carter

  “Seriously, Carter. How long are you going to keep doing this?” the woman on the video call says, her eyes skeptical.

  I actually roll my eyes this time. “Come on, Lola. You’re joking, right? I’m making you so much money right now that we’d all be insane to end it.”

  What the fuck? First Chase, and now Lola—both telling me I can’t keep this up forever. I don’t get it. Head Hunter is the most watched show on any network and online. We’re all making bank.

  I look over at Chase, who’s sitting next to me on the private jet we’re taking to New York City, and give him a scrutinizing look, my eyes narrowed.

  Lola Anders is the network executive. She should absolutely be on board with keeping this up. Am I missing something? Glancing back at the screen on the wall in front of us, I give her a charming grin.

  “What’s the matter? Have you decided you’re tired of watching these other women crawl all over me and want a piece for yourself?”