by Alexis Angel
First Comes Love
Alexis Angel
Naughty Angel Publishing
Contents
Also By Naughty Angel Publishing
Description
Prologue
Table of Contents Instructions
Emilia & Evan
Erin & Fletcher
Laura & Jeremy
Sabrina & Rainier
Margarita & Thomas
Quinn & Felix
Katherine & Alexander
Minette & Armand
Naomi & Paul
Samantha & Brad
Allana & Derek
Emilia & Evan
Author’s Note
Stories From The 6 Train
The Biggest Licker
Jailbait
Head Hunter
Red & Blue
Princely Passions
Blessed
The Stories Continue…
First Comes Love
By Alexis Angel
Copyright 2018 by Naughty Angel Publishing
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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Also By Naughty Angel Publishing
Abby Angel
Secrets & Silk
Boxers & Briefs
Men Of The House
Woman Of The House
Mergers & Acquisitions
Harem
Hit & Run
Profit & Lace
Alexis Angel
Baby Batter
Kim Vs. Stepbrother
Dirty Daddy
36 Inches
Blessed
24 Inches
Dirty Darcy
Stories From The 6 Train
12 Inches
Red & Blue
Cindersmellya
Offense & Defense
Cunning Linguist
Python
Mr. President
The Biggest Licker
DILF
Lust Muscle
Wicked Lil' Brat
Jailbait
Princely Passions
100 Days
Brittney Vs. Banker
Head Hunter
Single TV Dad
Protein Shake
Dark Angel
10 Commandments
Overtime
Seven Deadly Sinners
12 Days
Three Beasts
Hostile Work Environment
B.I.L.F.
Murder/Love
Buyer’s Market
Gambling For The Virgin
The Virgin Market
To WineBar
I am his. And he is mine.
Always and forever.
We were young, single, free,
and had our future in front of us.
We were beautiful. Graceful. Desired.
And we knew it.
And then in the center of all that, he came in.
Stomped in and made his presence known.
Intruded on every single self-delusion I had ever had
and completely swept away what I thought I knew
about the world and myself.
All that was left was him.
Us.
Starting our lives together...
Follow ten women in this riveting collection of interwoven stories guaranteed to make both your heart and your panties melt.Experience the rush of falling in love as Alexis Angel takes you on an emotional journey you'll never forget.
Dear Angels,
I began my writing journey 12 months ago. 6 months in I met the love of my life. He made my heart stop. He made my knees quake. And he took me on a whirlwind of a ride. I love him and he loves me. For the longest time I was so happy that I wrote shit that was all about 12 inches and 24 inches and every sort of inches pleasing you. Fun stories, full of the carefree, sexy rush you get when you fall in love.
But lately, I’ve been wanting more. Wanting to tel
l stories that are still the embodiment of the empowerment I believe in so strongly, but that also go further. That explore. Stories with deeper meaning. Emotion. Passion. Love that is pure and real and true.
That’s what this is. A story from the heart. First Comes Love is a real love story, told through the eyes of others that I put together as I sat back and analyzed it all. It’s an exploration of relationships at every level. It’s real. It’s raw. And it’s for my fans. I can’t wait to take you on this emotional journey.
This book contains 12 short stories, but they’re all interconnected. You’ll follow the story of Emilia and Evan through the eyes of others, and the full impact of their love story will only be found in reading from beginning to end. I hope you enjoy the ride.
I love you all.
Alexis
P.S. The Alexis and WineBar story is here in a way you haven’t seen before. I put my personal diary entries in here so you could see and feel everything exactly as I did. The entries follow each story - read this book all the way through in order to follow along with me. Each of these entries matters to the stories inside as well. So please please please read in order!
WAIT!
Please use the TOC (Table of Contents located in the upper left area of your screen) to navigate your way through this book. If you’re zoomed out and you’re seeing a smaller version of the book and it is flipping through that way, please press the center of your screen to get you out of page flip mode.
Thanks!
Alexis Angel
Emilia & Evan
Part I
One
Emilia
“That’s it. It’s official. I’m done.”
I slam my final shot of tequila down on the bar and nod my head resolutely.
My best friend, Erin, snorts and rolls her eyes.
“Right. You keep telling yourself that, babe.”
Shooting her a sideways glare, I open my purse and pull out my lip gloss.
“See,” Erin says with a laugh, “you’re nowhere near done.”
I smack my lips together when I finish applying the gloss, then toss my blonde waves over my shoulder and give her an innocent smile.
“I meant here.”
I gesture vaguely around the dimly lit lounge that’s part and parcel of living in the Bradford—a luxury apartment building in the Upper East Side.
I fucking love it here. It costs a pretty penny, but it’s absolutely worth it.
“That’s more like it.”
Erin looks at her watch. “Because the minute Emilia Adams calls it a night at eleven p.m., then I’ll know I’ve stepped into some alternate universe.”
Yeah, so I’m the consummate party girl.
What can I say? I know how to have a good time, and as long as I’m young and free, might as well make the most of it, right?
“So where to?” I ask her, signing the slip of paper in front of me with a flourish and pushing it toward the bartender before standing to go.
I can practically feel the tequila seeping into my veins, a warm, heady rush taking over my body as I think about what kind of trouble we might get into tonight in the clubs of Manhattan.
Erin gives me a too-wide grin, not unlike the grimace emoji she’s so fond of using.
“Um, yeah, about that.”
“No way! You are not bailing on me tonigh
t.”
I’ve got a game plan. It’s early, and we can hit up quite a few of my favorite exclusive clubs if we get started now.
“I’m sorry, Em, but I have to finish up my project. I was totally planning on figuring it out last night, but 33D was going at it even later than usual, and I couldn’t get anything done.”
I laugh at her reference to her upstairs neighbor who probably holds an Olympic gold medal for the number of girls he fucks in a week.
“I know exactly what needs to get done, my friend—you.”
Erin shakes her head. “Not all of us are able to have every New Yorker with a Y chromosome dropping at our feet begging for half a second of our attention.”
I grab Erin’s hand and pull her from the barstool, giving her my most disarming smile.
“Come on, babe. You can work on it tomorrow. I’ve got big plans for us tonight.”
I’m not taking no for an answer here, and she knows it. I can already see her starting to cave. It won’t take much.
She opens her mouth, and I can already hear the yes on her lips—my powers of persuasion don’t just work on dudes, you know—but then, her jaw just hangs there, her eyes going comically wide as she stares over my head.
Knitting my brows together, I spin around to see what has my normally articulate friend more or less speechless.
And immediately feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.
A bus.
A fucking bullet train.
Like, I think I might actually stagger back a step.
God, I hope not. But holy fucking hell. This guy that just waltzed into the Bradford’s residents-only lounge is seriously the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
I mean, yeah, I totally get that a statement like that sounds like hyperbole, but fuck…
He’s tall, at least six feet, with broad shoulders that taper to a narrow waist, his body a perfect masculine V-shape that makes me certain there’s another sinfully sexy V right underneath his clothes that points straight down to heaven.
But it’s not his body that has my mouth suddenly as dry as the fucking Mojave. Neither is it his dark hair—almost black—that’s perfectly in place except for this one lock over his eyebrows that has my fingers itching to reach up and brush it away.
No, it’s his eyes—it’s just as dark as his hair. They suck me in like a vortex, an abyss, a black hole, or some other science-y shit. Making the dryness of my mouth a perfect counterpoint to the wetness pooling in my La Perla.
Like, if my mouth is a desert, my pussy is a fucking geyser right now.
I give myself a little shake. Because what the fuck?
A hot guy isn’t exactly new territory for me. Neither is the way those depthless orbs seem to latch onto me and devour me whole, full of filthy intention.
This happens on the regular, and not because I’m some supermodel or something. I just give off that vibe. I’m confident, sure of myself, and that translates into a sexiness that transcends mere looks.
I’ve realized this over the years. Sexiness is an attitude, a mindset.
One I’ve mastered.
So yeah, my knees shouldn’t feel like jelly right now. My stomach shouldn’t be fluttering in a way that feels like a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies was let loose inside of me. And my pussy shouldn’t be throbbing, clenching, fucking aching as this guy walks toward me.
But it is.
Then he smiles.
“Hey.”
One word. That’s all. And my whole fucking world is turned upside down.
“Hey,” I say back.
Yeah, that whole thing about Erin normally being articulate? Her momentary lapse is nothing compared to the total lack of game I have right now. I want to kick myself, slap myself, pinch myself—anything to not feel like I’m at a total loss.
But nope, apparently, all I can do is smile dumbly at this guy.
I feel a sudden sharp pain in my side as Erin nudges me in the ribs. It jolts me out of my momentary stupor, enough for me to tear my eyes away from Adonis himself.
Erin’s looking back and forth between me and this guy, then she smiles waaaay too innocently.
“I’m headed downstairs. Catch you later, Emilia.”
She’s gone before I can even process that she totally just ditched me for the night. But right now, I could practically kiss her for it. Because Hottie McHotterson reaches out his hand and takes mine, drawing it up to the very lips I can’t tear my eyes from.
“Emilia.”
He smiles again, sending a vibration of anticipation rocketing through my body.
“I’m Evan.”
Two
Evan
Fuck.
If I’d known the Bradford had residents like Emilia, I would have taken my friend Andy’s advice a long time ago and moved here sooner.
I barely even register her friend leaving, though I’m fucking glad to be alone with her now.
I’ve only lived here a week, and I’ve been busy getting unpacked—when I’m not working, which is pretty much always—so it’s the first time I’ve made it up to the lounge.
I thought I’d do a little pre-gaming before heading out on the town, but let’s be real: I’m perfectly fine with staying in tonight if it means I need to do my neighborly duty and get more intimately acquainted with my fellow residents.
Or just the one.
“Leaving so soon, Emilia?” I say, her slight fingers still gripped firmly in mine. “What are you drinking?”
Not ‘Can I buy you a drink, Emilia?’, because fuck that.
Why pretend like she isn’t about to sit that tight little ass right back down and let me buy her whatever I want?
She blinks, her bright blue eyes dilated with desire that I know I fucking put there. Yep, got this one in the bag.
Then Emilia does something that shocks me to my core.
“Nice to meet you, Evan.” She pulls her hand from mine. “But I already have plans.”
She gives me a sassy, little smile—and fuck me, she even has a cute, little dimple—then spins on her Louboutins and starts to strut away.
And yeah, I know the name of her designer shoes. What can I say? I’m a fan of the finer things in life. Plus I’ve had more than one pair of them wrapped around me in my day.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I reach out and wrap my fingers tightly around her wrist. She’s stalking off with such momentum that the sudden opposing force has her rebounding right back toward me—slamming right into my chest.
The air rushes out of her in an audible gasp. And fucking hell, do I want to find out what other kinds of sounds she might make as our bodies collide.
The impact nearly knocks us off balance, and I instinctively wrap my arms around her waist to keep her from falling.
She glances up at me, pressed against my chest, a flash of uncertainty in her eyes before she shuts that shit down, replacing it with a haughty glare.
“Excuse me, Evan. But I have somewhere to be.” Her voice is like ice.
And I fucking love it.
I don’t let go of her, even when she pulls back, trying to put some distance between us.
“Are you sure about that?” I murmur, unable to resist dipping my head down to whisper in her ear, loving the way a little tremor shakes her whole body as my breath grazes her neck.
A pause.
Anticipation.
I smile, knowing where this is headed.
Emilia trails her fingers up my arms, and it feels like fucking sparks of electricity are shooting through my veins. Her hands come to rest on my chest, and she gives me a saucy little grin.
Yep. Hook, line, and sinker.
Then she pushes. Really fucking hard.
Damn, this woman has some fucking strength hidden underneath that tight, little body.
My eyebrows fly up to my hairline. This is a new one. I can honestly say I don’t remember a woman ever pushing me away—literally—so forcefully.
“Is it something I said?” I tea
se, quickly regaining my composure.
Emilia cocks her head to the side, jutting a hip out and resting a slender hand on it as she stares at me through narrowed eyes.
“I know your type. Not interested.”
Ouch.
“Baby, you know nothing about me.” My smile hasn’t faltered, but what the fuck. I can’t remember the last time a woman was so vocally uninterested.
“I know enough.”
Her eyes trail slowly up and down my body, and there’s no hiding the fact that she’s got me rock-hard and ready to go. And why should I bother hiding it? I know what I’m packing, and I’m fucking proud of it.
It doesn’t escape me when her gaze lingers a bit too long, her pink little tongue darting out to lick her lips.
I want to fucking groan out load at how crazy she’s making me. And this hard-to-get act? Fuck me, because it’s working.
“Tell me,” I say, taking a step closer to her, “what exactly you know.”
