Overworked

by Dark Angel

  Laughing, I wiggle my eyebrows. “Are you seeing him again tonight?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably not. We may see each other again, but I don’t want to get serious with anyone. Now that I know all the fun that’s out there just waiting for me, I want to try it all. Lots of flings out there, you know.”

  Holy shit. Who would've thought that my prudish boss would turn into a total sex fiend? Good for her. “That’s right,” I say, amused. “You get yours, girlfriend.”

  We giggle, and then she turns speculative eyes on me. “What about you?”

  “Me?” I take a sip of my wine.

  “Yes, you. Are your days of flings and no-strings sex a thing of the past now that Jake Kent is making you come on the regular?”

  Who is this new Lori? She’s kind of fun. “Nah,” I say casually, “this might end up just another fling. I don’t know how long it'll last.”

  The words taste bitter in my mouth, and I wish it weren’t true. I really don’t know where this is going or what’s going to happen. I mean, I know that we declared our love on national TV. But there’s a lot to consider. Jake’s show has a full lineup for the rest of the season. I don’t know if I can deal. Or what he wants for the future.

  “Whatever, Layla. Don’t be stupid.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She gives me a look like she can’t be fooled. “Don’t even try that with me. You two are obviously in love.”

  “I do love him,” I admit. “I realized that. And he said he loves me, too. But I’m not sure where we go from here. With his show picking back up…it’s complicated. And he’s not ever been the relationship type.”

  “Until he is.”

  I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You can’t tell me that man isn’t crazy about you.”

  “Yeah. That’s how it seems.” I know he cares, but we haven’t talked about where this is going. A relationship might be too much of a leap. “Besides, I don’t know what’s going to happen with us now that everything’s settled with the show. We were thrown together because of my investigation. What if it was just the circumstances we were in?” I don’t mention that him going down on a new girl every night makes me nauseous.

  “Not a chance,” Lori says, waving her hand dismissively. “You two are perfect together.”

  I think so too, but I just don’t know if we can make it work. It depends on if I’ll be able to handle him still doing the show. Or how Jake will react once he finds out how it makes me feel. At this point, anything could happen.

  Jake

  Two days after the roundtable episode that turned into the smuttiest event TV has ever seen, I’m sitting in my office with Toby when there’s a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” I call out.

  When Layla walks in, looking good enough to eat, a huge smile spreads across my face. I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning after we spent the full night fucking in every way possible. I’ve been so consumed with the show’s new direction that I worked all day and most of the night. Today’s been crazy busy too.

  “Hey gorgeous,” I say, “what brings you here?”

  She smiles. “I have some news for you.”

  It’s good news from the looks of it. Layla takes a seat across the desk from me.

  “Good to see you again, Layla,” Toby says with a smirk. Yeah, he definitely got quite the show from her last time he saw her.

  She smirks right back, not the slightest bit embarrassed. “So we reached our final decision. The FCC has decided the show can continue in its current format. No fines or anything.”

  Thank fuck.

  I mean, I figured that would happen after the way everything went down (wink), but there are never any guarantees.

  “Jake, I want you to know that even though things between us weren’t exactly professional, I did my due diligence. If I’d decided your show wasn’t fit to remain on the air, I would have recommended a cancelation.” She smiles softly. “But everything I discovered over the past few weeks has proven to me that the show really does serve the public good. You’re changing lives and making the world a better place.”

  I stand up and come around the desk, pulling her to her feet and placing my hands on her face. She looks up at me so sincerely, and all I really want to do is kick Toby to the curb so we can get naked, but I don’t want to ruin this moment by only thinking with my cock.

  “I’m glad you came around to my way of thinking,” I say. Then I grin because I realize that makes me sound like a cocky bastard.

  She shakes her head and laughs, rolling her eyes.

  “What I mean is that I’m glad you understand now where I’m coming from.”

  “I get it. I really do.”

  I know she does because I’ve seen how her mind has shifted in the past few weeks. Even though she was open about her own sex life, she had no clue how many women out there aren’t.

  “I’m sure your fans are going to be ecstatic that you’re staying on the air,” she says with a smile.

  I cut my eyes at Toby, then back to Layla. “That’s where you’re wrong, babe.”

  I let that hang there for a second, watching as her eyes cloud with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not staying on the air.”

  “What?” Layla grips my wrists and looks at me like I’m crazy. Her mouth falls open in shock. “Why would you do that? I can’t believe this. After everything that’s happened and everything that we’ve all gone through to try to keep your show on, you're just going to quit? You can’t do that, Jake.”

  I smile. That’s because she doesn’t know the whole story.

  Layla

  I’m reeling. I don’t understand it. Not even a little. How could Jake just throw it all away after we fought so hard to make sure he could keep his show on the air? It just doesn’t make sense.

  “Why would you do that?” I ask again, incredulous.

  He’s smiling about it. The man is fucking smiling about the fact that he’s just going to walk away from everything he’s ever worked toward achieving.

  I won’t lie, part of me hates the idea of him staying on the show and being with a different woman every night of the week. But a stronger part of me wants him to continue the good work he’s doing, even if it breaks my heart.

  “Layla,” he says, tilting my chin up, still looking totally amused.

  “You think it’s funny?” I try to push at his chest, but he just wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tightly against him, trapping me in his embrace.

  “I think you’re funny.”

  “Ugh, let go.” This man is going to be the death of me. He drives me wild in every sense of the word. Right now in a really fucking frustrating way.

  “Layla,” he says, his voice more serious this time. “Listen to me for half a minute, will you?”

  “Fine,” I say petulantly.

  “I said I’m not staying on the air. I didn’t say A Cunning Linguist wasn’t.”

  I stop resisting him and stare up into his eyes. “What?”

  He nods. “Yeah. The show is still moving forward. But I’m bowing out. From here on out it’s going to be hosted by Toby.”

  “Toby?” I echo, struggling to speak in sentences of more than one word. But he has me scrambling to catch up.

  “Yeah, I think he’s proven he’s up to the challenge. Wouldn’t you say?”

  I can’t help but laugh, and Toby joins in. “I should fucking hope so after an episode like that,” he jokes, rising to his feet next to us. “So, I guess this means the infamous Jake Kent has finally tired of hearing women scream his name?”

  Jake looks down at me, his eyes full of something that looks a whole lot like...well...love. I hate to be that girl that needs constant affirmation. That’s so not me. But it’s been a few days. Maybe Jake was just caught up in the moment when he told me he loved me.

  “There’s only on
e woman I want to hear scream my name, and that’s Layla.” He lowers his head to mine and kisses me softly on the lips. “I love you, Layla.”

  Oh my God. This man is known for two things. His magic tongue, and his ability to use words to really get a woman to open up to him. The first one I’ve experienced more than enough to know that he’s the real deal. The second? Well, I think Jake Kent may have just swept me right off my feet.

  “I love you, too,” I say, a little dizzy from how fast this conversation switched gears. “And I’ll make sure you never get tired of hearing me scream your name. But you better not get out of practice now that you don’t have a show to film every night.”

  “That’s why I have you.”

  Jake

  Toby’s taken to his new role like an old pro. What did I tell you? He learned from the best.

  It’s only been a few days since he’s taken the reins for A Cunning Linguist, but already the feedback is amazing. The audience goes crazy for him, ratings are strong, and there has been a new rush of applicants who want to be on the show. Plenty to keep Toby busy for a long time.

  I stand in the wings with my arm around Layla and watch as he interviews the latest guest. He hasn’t even touched her yet and she’s already moaning. I laugh. He’s right where he wants to be.

  When he gets on his knees and starts giving his guest an off the charts pussy licking, Layla turns to me, giggling.

  “So, do you miss this? Being on the show, taking over the world one orgasm at a time?”

  I wrap my arms tighter around her and turn her to face me. “I do like being on TV,” I muse. “But I don’t miss being the Cunning Linguist at all.”

  “Oh really?” she teases. “You sure one woman is going to be enough for you?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, I look at her suspiciously. “Are you suggesting you already want to spice up our sex life?”

  She laughs, throwing her head back. I take the opportunity to kiss along her neck, trailing my tongue along her sweet skin, up to her jaw, and then finally settling on her lips. The woman onstage starts to scream some incoherent string of words as another one of Toby’s mind-blowing orgasms rips through her. The dude has decided to up the stakes. He says the show needs to bring its A-game. No less than three orgasms per episode—all for the same woman, of course.

  Smiling against Layla’s lips, I shake my head, then pull back a few inches and look at her.

  “Seriously, though, you are the only woman I could ever want or need.”

  She gives me this look like I’ve just made her insides go all gooey. That’s my cue.

  Dropping to one knee, I pull out a small velvet box from my pocket and look up at the woman I’m totally, madly in love with.

  Her hands fly to her mouth, her eyes widen, and she whispers, “Jake…”

  I laugh. Guess we really are friends now because she hasn’t called me Jacob once since my last episode of ACL.

  “I love you, Layla. I want to let the whole world know how much. You’re the only woman I ever want for the rest of my life.” I thought out this proposal in my head, wondering how best to word it. Proposals run the risk of being too sappy and ridiculous. I’m not that guy. I finally figured out where to go with it. Grinning, I open up the ring box, and the five-carat diamond shimmers and sparkles, light reflecting off its perfectly cut facets.

  “If you’ll have me, I promise to never let you down. Every night without fail,” I cross my heart with my fingers then hold my hand up, “I do solemnly swear to go down on you until you have no less than five orgasms. So what do you say? Will you marry me?”

  I fight to keep a straight face, but when she breaks into laughter, I lose it. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I couldn’t resist.” Then I take her hand in mine, suddenly feeling just as solemn as I pretended to be only seconds ago. “But I’m serious. I want you to be my wife. Marry me, Layla.”

  She nods, her eyes glittering with tears. “Yes. Of course.” Then she stops me just before I put the ring on her finger. “With one stipulation.”

  I wrinkle my brow. “What?”

  “It’s only fair that two get to play at this game.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  She grins mischievously. “Nightly blowjobs.”

  Fuck. Yes.

  See, what did I tell you? This girl? Perfect. And she’s mine.

  Jake

  “So, Claire, tell us,” my beautiful wife says conspiratorially to the woman sitting in the chair across from us, “which one had the biggest cock?”

  The audience laughs. This has become a regular bit on the new show The O Connection that I host with Layla. Layla Kent.

  Yep, we’re married now, and it’s been a wild ride. That promise we made the night we got engaged? We’re still going strong.

  “Well, Layla,” the guest says, dropping her voice and leaning forward, “I’d have to say—”

  “Whoa, ladies, hang on.” I break up the conversation like I do every week. “We all know it’s not about the size.”

  Layla just looks at me, deadpan. “And you’d know this because…?”

  I grin and wink at the camera. “I’m just saying. It takes a lot more than a big cock to satisfy a woman.”

  “I’ll agree with you there,” Layla says, giving me a heated look that has the audience getting all riled up again. They fucking love us together. Our chemistry on camera is off the charts. I don’t think it’s too much to say that we’re the main reason they tune in to our show week after week.

  “Fine,” Layla continues, “I’ll ask a different question. Which of the men was the most sexually satisfying?”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” I say, getting ready to dig in to what I’m best at—helping the women of this world learn how to get what they need. Well, I take that back. It’s what I’m second best at. Because we all know that despite Toby’s staggering success on A Cunning Linguist, I still reign supreme as the king of cunnilingus.

  Wink.

  The guest of the week takes us back through her sexcapades of the past few days, not holding back. She gives us all the dirty deets.

  That’s what we do here on The O Connection. It’s like A Cunning Linguist meets The Bachelor. The featured guest goes on three dates with three different men; Layla and I evaluate her experiences on fire and help her choose which one is her very own perfect sexual match.

  Genius, am I right?

  By the time the hour-long segment is over, our guest has found her match and we bring him out for the audience to see. It’s fun. And we’re helping the people of this world have better sex. Noble aspirations, to be sure.

  Once I left the old show, I came up with this idea—with Layla’s help, of course. She just wasn’t satisfied anymore with her job at the FCC. Her research into my show inspired her and she wanted to help women out too. So that’s what we do now.

  After tonight’s filming wraps, I grab Layla and pull her back into the dark hallway behind the sound stage. These shows always get me so hot for her. Watching her tell the guest how to liberate themselves sexually and take what they want is a total turn on.

  “You were so fucking hot tonight,” I tell her as I press her up against a wall and slide my hand under her dress.

  Fucking drenched.

  Just like always.

  Layla moans into my shoulder as I tease her clit. “Fuck, Jake. I couldn’t wait to get off that stage and get you inside me.”

  I’m not the only one who gets hot and bothered during the show. My girl is like a live wire afterwards. Every fucking time.

  In seconds, she’s coming hard all over my hand. “That’s one,” I say with a smirk, pushing two fingers inside her wet heat. “Ready for number two? I’m feeling a bit like an overachiever tonight, babe. What do you say we go for ten?”

  She mumbles something incoherent—she's well on her way to number two, you know—but I’m taking it as a yes. “That’s my girl.”

  This life I have? It’s pretty much perfect.
<
br />   Lust Muscle

  A Billionaire Revenge Romance

  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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  Liam

  I grab the flavor-of-the-day’s hips and pound my cock into her over and over, smirking when she cries out a string of words practically in worship of me and what I’m doing to her body.

  “Oh, fuck, Liam, your cock is so big,” she squeals, writhing under my hands. “I’m gonna cum—”

  Her words break off as I flick my thumb across her clit and make her cum all over my cock.

  Fuck yeah, my cock is big. And I know exactly what to do with. This girl—Misty?—is just the latest to tell me how fucking amazing it is. Like I don’t know. There’s a reason I have a reputation as the hottest billionaire playboy in New York City. Everyone wants a piece of Liam Donovan. And I’m usually happy to give it to them.

  Hard, fast, and dirty.

  Sometimes more than once if the chick happens to be especially hot. But never for more than one night.

  Shoving her face down into the bed and yanking her ass up even higher, I plunge into her even harder, groaning through my own orgasm.

  “Fuck…” I grit out as I shoot hot, streaming jets of cum inside her, my cock throbbing with my release.

  Then I pull out and let her fall to the bed, standing up and taking care of the used-up condom. I tie it off and toss it in the trash and reach for my pants, ready to get the fuck away now that we both got what we came here for.