by Alexis Angel
Lisa Boltiador: Is like my owl. I have more inside jokes with Lisa than I ever thought I would have with anyone. Just for Lisa, I’m going to say the following words. Anus. Buttocks. Owl. Old. Speculator. I can go days without talking to her, but like any sister, I can pick up again. Lisa is my brain in terms of the advice and wisdom she imparts - but she will always have a piece of my heart.
Carla Roman: Carla is quiet, but when she speaks it is prescient, correct, and worth listening to. I know to myself that if Carla suggests I do something, that I should do it. I love Carla because she was there from the beginning, and I would give her anything she asked (or try), but she never presupposes to. Always caring. Always giving. Because Carla knows what she’s talking about, I always listen. If she didn’t she wouldn’t be saying it.
Christine Raine Jalili: Is like a mini-Facebook by herself. When I’m tired she’s there for me. When I have questions on what to do and it needs a quick answer, I ask her. If I ever need to round up people, the first person I think of going to is Christine. I have very rarely seen someone who is such a harder worker or dives in as much as she does.
Michele VonCannon: Need something to pick up your day? Need a conspirator to do something fun with? Maybe something racy to get you all tingly? Want to be naughty? Want a partner in crime? Michele is the one that I turn to. I’m sometimes not sure if we can do something or not - Michele will do it. I love her for the amount of…stuff she’s shared and how she makes our chats lively. I wanna call her CQ; but I’m not gonna tell you why.
Kim Lubbers: Kim is a sweetheart. She’s quiet, but when she does say stuff it’s always helpful and sweet and funny and naughty and cute. I love Kim because she’s always solidly behind you. She doesn’t need a lot of words to express herself. You know just from her presence that she’s behind you. That she has your back. Its worth more than anything anyone will ever know and I’m grateful.
Brittney Ketchum: This is my naughty girl! The one I can come to and share all the dirty things I do, think about, want to do, or whatever. Brittney is right there. I joke with her that we’re holding hands on a fast train to…well, never mind ;) But I love joking and talking and laughing and playing with Brittney. She’s so open and I can be so openly sexual - not having to worry about anything what society says.
Cheryl Maddox: Knows me perhaps better than anyone else. Has brought me back from the brink in the past. I place my faith and my trust in this woman. She works entirely too hard as a PA dealing with 9 squacking girls in our group, but somehow she manages to keep us in line. Most people have a PA to post stuff or enter them in contests. Cheryl is too valuable for that. Her best contribution is her counsel. I will never do anything without asking her opinion. I think I used to be sad because I never had a sister in real life, but no longer since Cheryl found me so long ago.
Hello Again!
Hey ladies!
Listen, so that was a pretty racy romance, wasn’t it? LOL!
If you want to see the flip side - older woman, younger man, and some dirty filthy fun, keep going. Those panties aren’t getting dry anytime soon!
Description
Scandalous: A Secret Baby Dark Romance
Just looking at him is enough to melt my panties. That’s why I’m not wearing any around him.
Lance Anders. He’s cocky. He’s arrogant.
He’s too beautiful to be real.
But…he’s entirely forbidden.
I’m in a forced marriage to his father. A prisoner in a literally loveless partnership that only exists through blackmail. I have too much to lose.
Besides, I’m 15 years older. That makes me wiser. And my brain tells me to stay far away from him when he comes to visit for the summer.
He’s too risky for me to touch. Too taboo for me to taste. One touch of this Devil’s lips and I know I’ll be damned.
Then why am I captivated by those deep, soulful eyes?
Why can’t I get enough of that shirtless body? And that bulge in his pants. Is that really his…?
Maybe Heaven can wait…
Scandalous is a full-length standalone romance that will have your naughty bits twitching with delight. No cliffhanger. HEA guaranteed.
This book is dedicated to all the readers who have supported me in this journey. I write for them.
A Note From Alexis
Well hello there, ladies!
Let me first begin by introducing myself. My name is Alexis Angel. I write steamy contemporary romance. Steamy is another word, I guess, for dirty. And dirty is another word for dirrrrty. In fact, the dirtier the better because at heart I’m just a bad girl looking to have some fun.
Having fun is why I do this. And, I’m just having fun in the next few hundred pages, doing what I do with a wink and a nod. It’s supposed to bring out some emotions and give you a chance to forget about your cares for a little bit. That’s all I’m looking to do.
Some people want realism in their books. I say reality is too depressing. So you might see certain things as over the top or ridiculous in terms of never being realistically possible. Yeah, I agree. You’re coming into the world of Alexis by turning the page. Into a world where you have twin stepbrother quarterbacks with 12 inch …uhmm…appendages… that fall in love with their stepsister, where you have dragons who shift into billionaire BDSM rock stars, I think reality should take a second place to fun.
So I just wanted to say that, in case you know, you were hoping for like super real. The men and women in the pages below represent the best, and worst, of all of us as a collective whole. This is all about leaving your cares for the world behind, as we hold hands, and just for a little while go on a journey that makes us smile. And hopefully a lil’ wetter than before.
Kisses!
Alexis xoxox
Lance
SLURP!
I look down at the sight of the nasty slut sucking my cock greedily and I grunt with a self-satisfied air. She’s getting into it. Her body isn’t the best, but I don’t fucking care. She’s the President’s only fucking daughter, and she’s giving me head while my bare ass is resting comfortably on the President’s chair.
That’s right. I’m sitting in the Big Chair itself. Right behind the President’s desk in the Oval Office. It’s night of course, and no one else is in here.
Here’s a history lesson for you. The President’s desk is called the Resolute Desk because it was given as a gift to the United States from the HMS Resolute from Her Royal Navy.
If Abby doesn’t have good aim, it’s also going to be called the Lance Anders splatter pad for when I cum all over it after this blowjob.
Lance Anders, that’s me, alright. And that’s probably the only reason that Secret Service hasn’t hauled me away from here, or building security hasn’t been set on me yet.
Because I’m supposed to be here.
Allow me to introduce myself if you haven’t been keeping in touch with CNN and Politico like the other Washington DC junkies that surround this place. My name is Lance Anders of the New York Anders Family. My father is Michael Anders, the billionaire scion of the media empire bearing his name—Anders Media.
Before you think what a great man my dad is though, let me just correct you real quick. It was my grandfather who built the fucking company to what it is today. Starting with newspapers, and then moving on to radio. Then magazines. Finally television and film. And toward the end of his life—the man worked till he died—the Internet.
My dad, well, he just built on it. Went into fucking politics. He says it's to protect the family business. Whatever. He just probably likes the power. I don’t remember much, when he and my mom were married - I think I was 2.
Oh right, I call him my Dad because he’s all I’ve ever known. My mom died shortly after marrying that asshole. He became my legal guardian. But we’ll talk more about how I haven’t talked to him in forever. Right now I’m fucking this bitch.
She moans again lewdly and I think I love politics. My Dad said I should go
into politics too. That’s basically why I’m here as a White House Intern right after my senior year at Yale. My dad’s the Mayor of New York City, and with a few favors and a few strings pulled, he’s put his son in at a job where he can sit in the President’s chair and get a blowjob from the First fucking Daughter.
Speaking of which, I look down. Holy fucking shit! Abby is bobbing her head up and down my shaft like a fucking pro. My cock is in a world of it’s own. It’s throbbing so hard, ready to cum that it must have it’s own fucking heartbeat. Yeah, my dad definitely wouldn’t approve of this.
But you know what? He probably wouldn’t approve of a lot of things I do. Definitely doesn’t approve of the line of tattoos gracing my arms and chest that I got in college while playing football. Definitely doesn’t approve of the fucking assembly line fucking I do of the female species. Although, there’s nothing I can really do about that. The women, they seem to throw themselves at me.
And hey, can you fucking blame them? I’m 21 years old. Young, with blue eyes and dimples. A ripped fucking body. The body of a fucking Greek god. A fucking gladiator. 8-pack abs. I bench twice my weight easily. I have a body fat index of 5%.
But that’s what brings the ladies to me in the first place. First year co-eds, sorority sluts, graduate student assistants, professors, housewives, and now First Daughters. They coo with lust as I take my clothes off and kiss between their neck and their shoulder. Then they get my pants off.
And their eyes bug the fuck out.
Because they see it.
My cock.
12 fucking inches of lust muscle. Veiny, and thick as your wrist. With its head that turns an angry color of purple, and at first they’re afraid.
“Lance, I don’t know….” they say out loud with fear and trepidation in their voices. They try jerking it, but they usually need two hands. I get them off once with my fingers and tongue. And then no matter their protests, I get them to take just the tip.
I’ll probably only be able to sink in half way into them. But by then they’re clawing at my back and screaming for Jesus. They’ve blasted off and gone into orbit, their minds no longer on this level of existence my cock is so good. By the time I’m done with them, they’ve forgotten their fucking names. They’ve forgotten their boyfriends, lovers, spouses, parents, you name it.
All they know is Lance fucking Anders. All they want is Lance Anders.
I grunt savagely as Abby continues her ministrations on my cock. I need to fuck, just thinking about all these women.
“Hey, get up,” I command. She looks at me for one second but them I pull her up with my arms. She squeals as I turn her over and bend her on her daddy’s desk. I lift up her skirt and yank down her panties. Fuck, I may have ripped those panties. But they were boring cotton briefs. Not really worth the loss, if you ask me.
Abby squeals again in excitement and juts her ass out. I waste no time and put on a condom and position my head into the mouth of her pussy and shove into her canal.
“Oh my fucking God, Lance!” Abby moans out loud.
She starts squirming on my cock, like a bug pierced by a needle—her arms writhing all over the desk. I don’t notice because I’ve closed my eyes and I’m imagining all the various girls I’ve fucked over my short lifespan.
Is it a lot? Sure. I won’t lie. But I’ve always taken care to be safe and I’ve always been honest with the girls. I’ve told them that I’m young. I’m not looking for anything permanent. Hell, I’m looking for one night. Maybe two if they’re really good and I’m in the mood. A week is the absolute max. Two weeks? Fuck that. After that, we’ll be friends, but they have to remember my motto: One and done.
Sure when my cock is going in and out of them like it’s doing to Abby they nod their head and bite their tongue. But as soon as they cum? As soon as they recover from that amazing fuck? They’re getting all clingy. They’re making plans to go up to the Cape to meet their fucking parents. They’re renting hotel rooms in the middle of the afternoon where we can go and fuck.
Listen, I don’t know what to say if you don’t believe me. Take a look at Abby right now, if you don’t think I’m telling you the truth. She’s going crazy, grunting and groaning like a fucking animal in heat. Her eyes are clouded up with fucking lust. Her hands are desperately trying to grab hold of something. Anything.
She hits one of the phones along the side of the desk. I don’t know which one. But whatever, she actually feels pretty good. She’s a bit of a slut—at least that’s the word around the West Wing. She’s not tight. I’ll grant you that.
“Oh baby, I’m going to fuck you so hard!” I tell her.
Is it me or is she talking in a very low voice? I bend over closer to hear her without breaking my stride.
“Oh unggggghh, baby, it’s so daaaa….good,” she moans again.
I close my eyes, and go back to imagining the women I’ve been with. So much I’ve wanted to do with them.
“Tell me how much you want it,” I tell her. I hold onto her hips and increase my tempo.
“Oooohh,” Abby coos. “Eeeeee,” she pants. At least that’s what it sounds like. I haven’t opened my eyes yet. Just going by auditory impulses.
“Tell me how much you fucking love my cock,” I say, getting closer and closer.
“Khee bhol cho…” Abby says and I have no idea what she’s saying now, but I’m not going to lie – I’m not really paying attention. I’m maybe five seconds away from exploding. A veritable geyser of semen is going to shoot out from my monster cock.
“I’m going to cum all over your fucking face,” I grunt as I slow down my thrusts.
“Kheee,” Abby says in a high pitch voice. She’s speaking garbage now. Unintelligible. But that’s just the effect I have on women.
I finally open my eyes and look at her. Her eyes are wide and she’s looking back at me in fear.
Three more strokes. Two. One.
Fuck, no time to turn her around.
I pull out and whip my condom off.
“I’m gonna cum,” I say with a nasty sneer of pride.
The door bursts open.
I look up.
It’s the President of the United States. He’s being followed by three Secret Service people.
But its too late for me. I’m cumming. Bolts of lightning and electricity have seized my body and paralyzed my muscles. My nuts have tightened and twisted and I feel myself spurt. All over his daughter’s ass. I unload rope after rope of thick, viscous white cum on his daughter’s ass cheeks and lower back. Despite the fact that this 22-year-old First Daughter just got caught in the Oval Office with a White House Intern’s cock inside of her, and despite the fact that her eyes tell me she’s afraid of something, which has to be my cock because she can’t help but sigh in pleasure as thick, heavy spurts of hot jizz land on her lower back and ass.
I grunt like a savage and start looking at my handiwork. The first shot hits the right ass cheek. I moan lewdly as I see it. I can’t help it. The second shot hits the left. The third rope hits her lower back and pools right above her ass before trickling down her thighs. The fourth shot hits right on her crack, dribbling downward. The fifth shot goes and smears the right ass cheek again.
“Fuck,” I gasp, as my orgasm subsides and my cock starts to dribble cum out.
In a fog of sex, I’m vaguely aware that the President has rushed to the desk. I’m slowly becoming aware that the Secret Service agents are standing at the entrance to the Oval Office.
What I don’t understand is why the President doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to Abby and I. Is his daughter that much of a slut that he’s basically given up on her?
That’s when I notice he’s saying something.
Fuck, he’s talking into the phone.
Wait, he’s talking into the phone?
The phone was on?
“Dimitry, please understand that this in not a provocation of war!” the President yells into the phone and that’s when I snap back to
reality. “America is not looking to fuck you and cum on Russia’s face!”
Oh. Fuck.
“Kakvo Kazvash!” the voice yells on the other end.
“He says the missiles are ready for launch if you’re lying,” a voice says and I notice that the President’s Russian translator is behind him. I didn’t even notice him.
You remember as I was fucking Abby and her hands were going all over the place as she was squirming?
Remember the phone she grabbed?
I’m just realizing right now. It was red.
“Dimitry, we have no desire for war! I swear to you! The US and Russia have come a long way together. Don’t let two stupid kids cost the lives of billions of people!” the President yells. Beads of sweat are forming on his brow.
My cock starts to twitch, it’s resting semi-hard on Abby’s ass. We’re frozen, all watching what's happening.
Apparently, the Russian President got put on speakerphone and misinterpreted my telling Abby the things I wanted to do to her as threats of war.
There’s a long silence.
“Daubs Vedanya!” the voice on the other end of the line says and the line clicks as it goes dead.
The President looks to his translator who nods. He sighs visibly and clutches the desk.
My heart rate slows. Fuck, that was close.
I pull away from Abby and start putting on my pants. Abby turns around to look at me. I hastily put on my pants and grab my shirt and shoes, putting them on as I start walking.
I need to put as much distance between me and the Oval as possible.
“If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the Executive Building,” I say, almost out the door.
