by Alexis Angel
However, it appears that New York City’s own bad boy Mayor had a different plan in motion, summoning the press at the last minute to witness the standoff and lay the stakes out on the table.
At heart - a question of whether freedom should be curtailed at home by the people, or by leaders that live far away.
But the Mayor also revealed a deep and dark secret about the Governor that instantly swayed public opinion back in his favor.
So far in fact that the Governor has today announced that she is pulling out of the race for Senator and officially resigning from office at the end of the week.
But even her hasty resignation has not stopped political commentators from weighing in whether the Governor has run afoul of violating ethics laws that prevent personal vendettas from being acted out using state resources.
Judge McGill, the jurist who signed off on the court order to close Kinky Amy’s has released a statement whereby he lists a pattern of intimidation, extortion and abuse by the Governor towards him in order to preserve the knowledge f a secret child that he had fathered 16 yeas ago.
Indeed, many former aides, allies, and enemies have been coming-out of the woodwork in the last 24 hours to the media - recounting a story of a politician who wielded her power and influence to get her way and enrich herself at the expense of the public.
Prosecutors have not ruled out a formal investigation and this morning the FBI and Justice Department both announced separate investigations into the administration of Governor Kate Meelios.
But regardless of what these months long investigations will turn up, it is safe to say that Governor Meelios has effectively ended her career. She went up against the best New York City had to offer - and she lost.
It remains to be seen what the city’s favorite son does next. But rest assured, we’ll be watching. So you can keep reading.
36
Amy
Epilogue
“Oh God, I think I’m going to pass out,” I hiss, grabbing Parker’s hand so tightly that I might crush it.
“Take a deep breath, Amy,” he says, his eyes wide and a fearful expression on his face. Taking a deep breath, he picks me up from the bed I’m lying on and crosses the bedroom, kicking the door open with the tip of his shoe. “Get me the fuckin’ helicopter!” He shouts from the top of the stairs, and one security guard raises his eyes toward us, his mouth hanging open.
“Right away, sir,” he snaps into attention, picking up his radio from his belt and talking into it. “Chopper’s on the way, sir,” he tells us as Parker hurries down the stairs and leaves the mansion, taking me out onto the courtyard.
“What’s going on, sir?” The rest of his security detail rushes over to meet us, all of them looking around as if the mansion was about to be swarmed by gun-toting terrorists.
“I’m having a fucking baby, that’s what’s going on,” I cry out in pain, mashing my teeth together, and trying hard not to scream.
That’s right, after nine months of my belly growing at an alarming pace, I’m finally ready to give birth. Which, let me tell you, feels as painful as I’ve imagined it’d be. Or worse.
“Oh, fuck, where’s the fucking helicopter?” I cry out, both my hands on my overgrown belly. I’m cursing like a sailor now, but I don’t care. Pain numbs everything, and that includes all norms of polite society.
The next few minutes seem to take an eternity, and only when my hair starts being whipped back by the helicopter’s blades do I finally allow myself to relax. I’m hauled inside on a stretcher, and Parker follows after me half-anxious, half-excited. It’s not everyday that your wife gives birth, right?
Yes, I said it—wife. Parker proposed a few days after our showdown with my mother, and one month after that I was walking down the aisle in a wedding gown. Just like in a fairy tale. One of these with a saccharine happy ending. But that’s exactly how I like my happy endings, so don’t judge.
Of course, I never expected this part of my happy ending to be so fucking painful. The miracle of life, yeah, right. More like the extreme pain of life, that’s what this is.
Thankfully, Parker’s important enough as a senator to merit having a helicopter come and pick up his pregnant wife. Seriously, I’d die if I had to wait for an ambulance and then face the traffic on my way to the hospital. To say that I’m in pain right now is putting it lightly.
Still, as the helicopter takes off and the mansion shrinks into a tiny pebble, I grab Parker’s hand and smile. I’m sweating, my hair plastered to my forehead, but I feel like the most beautiful woman on Earth right now. Why? It’s hard to put it into words, but the recipe is a simple one; just add the love of a perfect man, mix it with a baby, and voilà!
“Just breathe, Amy,” Parker tells me, and I can tell he has no idea what to do. And that’s probably why he went with that line guys use all the time in the movies. Just breathe, yeah, right; what the fuck does it look like I’m doing?
God, I really turned into a cranky wife, haven’t I?
Hours later, all the crankiness has vanished, and I’m back to being my old self. Except now my huge belly is gone. And I’m exhausted, completely drenched in sweat and wearing a hospital gown. But I’m cradling in my arms the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.
Natalie, that’s what we decided to name her. And, yes, it’s a girl. And you can bet that she’s going to grow into a strong woman who won’t take any shit from anyone—just like her mom.
“Can I…?” Parker asks me in a low voice, almost as if he were too afraid to raise his voice.
“Here,” I whisper, carefully handing him Natalie. He extends his arms, holding her as if she was made of glass, and then pulls her into his chest. Looking down at her with a soft smile, he’s a far cry from the man who stood his ground while dozens of soldiers pointed their guns at him. Parker’s the bravest man I’ve ever met, but right now, he looks docile and completely in love with his daughter.
Of course, I bet that his fierce side will show up anytime someone decides to mess with Natalie. Yeah, her boyfriends are going to love him.
“I love you,” I say, smiling as I watch him hold our baby. The look on his face reminds me of all the reasons I’ve fallen in love with him, and trust me, they’re too many to count. All I know is that falling in love with Parker was the wisest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.
And, if you’re wondering, that has nothing to do with the amazing sex we have every single day. Yes, even while I was pregnant; that required a bit of creativity, but it was fun nonetheless. What I mean is that, despite our bodies' burning need for each other, my relationship with him goes way beyond that. Okay, sure, amazing sex is one of the pillars in our relationship, but there are many others: trust, kindness, and fun. And, above all, love. Genuine love.
This last year has proved that, even though our relationship might live on the outskirts of what society deems to be moral and decent, we were made for each other. Life’s an open road right now, and the only thing I’m sure of is that I’m going to be by Parker’s side until the very end. Wherever that road may lead.
He has taken to his position as a Senator, and a few political strategists are already trying to peg him as a presidential candidate for the next elections. Which I think Parker will win if he decides to go for it. Can you imagine me as the First Lady? Yeah, neither can I.
But I try not to think about that stuff too much. The thing I’m most excited about for our future concerns the child Parker is cradling right now. I’m a mother now, and that feels like a heavy responsibility. After what I’ve lived through with my own mother, I’m hell bent on doing the best I can for my own daughter.
Not that she’ll have to worry about an evil grandmother. Mom went to jail roughly 6 months ago - abuse of power. She’ll be gone for a long time.
“What are you thinking about, momma Amy?” Parker asks me with a teasing smile, and my heart melts as I notice Natalie’s tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb.
“I’m thinking of
how perfect life is,” I reply, and he just looks into my eyes with a loving expression on his face.
“It is,” he whispers, and then we fall silent, both of us looking down at the small human we’ve helped create. If that isn’t a miracle, I don’t know what is.
Sometimes life’s like that. If you believe hard enough, it might just surprise you with a miracle. My miracle came in the shape of a family.
My best advice? Believe a little. Love a lot. It might work out for you.
It did for me.
About the Author
Alexis Angel writes steamy contemporary romance about bad boys for the bad girl in all of us. She is still single at 30, in case anyone is interested to know, and still very much looking for love.
Her favorite things in the world are flowers, chocolate, lingerie, high heels, lipstick, perfume, and the credit card award miles that she gets from buying all that.
Prior to writing, Alexis used to be a financial analyst in New York City. She quickly decided that working for a faceless corporation run by men was not her dream job. So she began to write. And as she began to write, she began to use those credit card award miles to travel all over the world.
Alexis is still single, in case you forgot from above. She spends winters in California, fall and spring in New York City, and summers in Europe. You can join her mailing list at http://eepurl.com/csXC2P or email her at [email protected]
[email protected]
A Note From The Author
I always view novel releases like a day at the fair or something fun. At least that’s how I view it as readers - a way to spend an afternoon.
So even though this novel was 60,000 words, I wanted to give you some more content.
To that effect, we’re attached a copy of Client 5 by Alexis Angel. And then a copy of Red & Blue (A MFM Menage!) by Alexis Angel. and a copy of Ashley Vs. Boss by Mona Cox.
Finally, I’m including a continuation of the Parker and Amy saga - kinda like cleansing your palette to come back and see how they’re doing, ya know? It’s all the way right after the related stories that follow.
Oh and end it with a preview of a Mona Cox - Alicia Vs. Billionaire.
My goal in this is simple.
To entertain you as long as we can to give you the best customer experience with the words that I hold so dear. Because while we may be in various corners of the world, the fact that we are sharing these brings us closer together we feel.
Thank you so much for reading!
xoxo
Alexis Angel
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…anyways, time for Client 5!
:)
Alexis
Client 5: A Bad Boy Next Door Dark Romance
Client 5: A Bad Boy Next Door Dark Romance
There isn’t a woman alive that I can’t buy…and I’m rich enough to pay.
I knew I had to have Ashley since the night I saw her. She was so f*cking gorgeous.
I know it’s only a matter of time before she’s mine. With my 8-pack abs, chiseled face, muscles, and tats, I’ve never met a woman whose panties didn’t melt just by looking at me.
Take the pants off and ain't nothing in the world gonna save her from Arsen Hawke.
Sure, she can say whatever she wants to pretend she’s got a choice.
She can say she doesn’t fall for bad boys.
She can try to scare me off by saying she comes with a high price tag.
But none of that f*cking matters to me.
Because I’ve already fallen for that curvy body of hers. For that beautiful face and soft lips. And I’ll pay anything to ravish her. Even if it means agreeing to pay the ultimate price…my heart.
Client 5 is a full-length standalone romance with a guaranteed Happily Ever After, no cheating or cliffhangers.
37
Arsen
“Oh baby, I love sucking this huge cock of yours,” Sophie says as she runs her tongue up and down my shaft in the way that only a stripper can. “It’s getting me so fucking horny.”
I can hear the steady beats of Lil’ John playing through the club as I look down through the glass at the main stage of the strip club. It’s a pretty crowded evening, and I idly wonder if some of the patrons—those poor, lonely schmos with no place else to be—realize that the mirrors they’re looking up at are really one-sided and that I can look down from them at any point. Including times like now, where I’m completely naked getting my cock sucked by a blonde stripper as a brunette one rubs her hands all over my body.
But just as soon as I wonder, the brunette—I think her name is Heather?—starts twisting my nipples and I decide it’s a stupid fucking thing to wonder about and I should just concentrate on the task at hand. That task being namely to fuck the living shit out of these two strippers—new girls to the club, but definitely old hands at this game. They know what’s fucking what, that’s for sure. The moment they started at the club, I could tell they were fucking eyeing me. Deciding if it was in their best interests to fuck me or not. Could they advance their careers by boning the owner?
Let me take a moment to fucking introduce myself, since it’s clear we haven’t met and you’re just now popping into the picture as I have my cock going in and out of one woman’s mouth and my hands roaming the fake tits of another.
My name is Arsen Hawke.
Yes, I know what you’re saying to yourself right now.
That Arsen Hawke. Yes. The 30-year old son of the billionaire smut lord of America. The son of the man the nation knows as the Corrupter. Collectively, my fucking dad is responsible for putting out 83 Internet live web cams, 23 Pay-Per-View channels, 3 magazines, and 5 different streaming porn services through the Internet. All beamed directly into your home for your little son or daughter to consume when you’re not looking – further destroying what little of the moral fiber is left of Western democratic values.
That Arsen Hawke that you read about in the tabloids. The same one that you see on E! Online. With the chiseled 8-pack abs, rugged face, icy blue eyes, and tattoos designed by some of the most gifted artists of our time. Fuck, I don’t even know why I’m describing myself. You know everything about me. You know that I’m good looking as fuck. That on the off-chance that I decided to stop by your town or city, you would probably tell your husband that you were going out so you could see me signing autographs at the mall. Just catch a glimpse. Maybe you’d hope to see me take off my shirt. Maybe you’d even get close enough to see my ripped physique. Fuck, maybe I would make eye contact with you and flex my pecs for you. Tell you to come closer so you could see my 1% body fat body. You’d be pretty close then, maybe I’d even touch you. That’s when you’d go fucking crazy, because that’s what I do to every girl around me.
You’d try not to at first, but you wouldn’t be able to help yourself from looking at the bulge in my pants. That 12-inches of pussy pleasing pistoning that you’ve read about. Fantasized about. You’d be so close to touching it. Tasting it.
If I told you to get in the limo with me, you wouldn’t even think about anything else. Fuck life. Forget every fucking obligation you ever had. All you’d want to do is get in for maybe the most illicit and exciting moment you’d ever have with someone who is fucking larger than life.
Once inside and in private, I’d take your hands in mine and tell you that this is temporary and it’s nothing permanent. You’d agree. Anything to have a taste of me. Anything for a feel. You’d nod your head, and I’d take my pants off, showing you my thick, pulsing, veiny cock.
And fuck if you wouldn't go fucking crazy. Sure, I’d let you suck it like these two strippers right now, who
are both taking turns running their tongues around the tip of my cock. But then, I’d turn you over on all fours and I’d fuck the living shit out of you. I swear to fucking God you would cum enough times that by the time I was done with you, you would be nothing more than a quivering mess of flesh on the seat. Sex coma? Talk about fucking sex amnesia.
And you would do anything for another taste of that cock. Anything I fucking wanted you to do. That’s why I’d want to get the fuck away as soon as possible. But I would leave you with memories that would last a lifetime as I flew off to my next destination. Maybe Singapore. Or, maybe London. I hear it’s nice this time of year.
So, yeah, that Arsen Hawke.
But there's so much fucking more that you don’t know about me. What about the fact that I haven't talked to my dad in 6 years, ever since my mom died of cancer and got no help from him since he had already divorced her. That I’ve been living on my own, at the age of 30 at One57 on Billionaire’s Row in New York City. That despite my body and looks and my fucking cock, I have a fucking brain. Harvard fucking MBA, baby. But, no. You don't know that about me. And quite honestly, I’m not surprised.
“Arsen, I want your cock inside of me, baby,” Sophie moans in her most slutty voice. I look down at her. She sees the look in my eyes and smiles lusciously and takes Heather. The two trade a wet, sloppy kiss for my benefit, and then turn away from me, facing the window overlooking the club. They're both naked—fuck their strippers—what do you expect? But what really blows my brain is when they both bend over, jutting their asses out at me.
