Single TV Dad: Billionaire Romance... Naughty Angel Style

by Alexis Angel

  At least, I always thought it was. Now that I got the call about our marriage being voided, I don’t know what to think. Just leaving Paul feels wrong. But fucking his brother behind is back is so much worse.

  When Paul doesn’t arrive in the next hour, I walk to my bag and fish for my phone. I dial his office number, but it rolls over to voicemail straight away. When I dial his cell, he answers after enough rings that I was prepared to leave him a message.

  There’s music in the background, and it’s difficult to hear what he’s saying.

  “Where are you?” I ask. “I’ve been home for over an hour.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t check the time. I’m still working.”

  Right. It sounds like he’s out on the town, maybe at a bar or a nightclub. I consider insisting that he comes home, but I don’t.

  “Are you coming home, tonight?” I ask, instead.

  “Probably not, Sky,” he says. “This is important.”

  Being social is more important than I am. The thought shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. I nod, even though he can’t see me.

  “I won’t wait up, then,” I say, and we end the call. I stare at the screen for a while. I don’t know why I thought that we would have some semblance of a relationship when we got married. I guess in the back of my mind, I figured straight couples hardly ever have sex when they’re married, so it wouldn’t be that much different to be married to a gay man. Maybe Paul is just as asshole.

  The moment I think it, I feel guilty. I consider phoning Lizzie, but what am I going to say to her? She knows about the marriage being voided but not about Paul, and I don’t dare tell her. I can’t afford it slipping out. The only person I feel I can trust is Parker.

  I know it’s wrong when I dial his number and hold my phone to my ear, but I do it anyway.

  He answers almost immediately.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks. I wonder how he knew.

  “Paul will be out all night, and to be honest, I feel neglected.”

  I know I shouldn’t complain about my husband to his brother, but I feel rejected and alone, and I want Parker to make me feel better. He asks me what happened, and I tell him what Paul said and where he was when I phoned him. When I’m done, Parker hesitates before he speaks.

  “You don’t think he’s having an affair, too, do you?” he asks.

  The word “too” in his sentence bothers me. A lot. And yes, I do think he’s having an affair, with another man. I don’t tell Parker that, though.

  “I don’t know,” I say. I don’t add that I don’t really care. I might have if it was one-sided, but with me having fucked Parker, I don’t exactly have a leg to stand on, and lately, I’m starting to wonder if Paul and I are doing nothing more than making each other miserable.

  “I know this is a long shot, but can I come over?” Parker asks.

  I know what will happen if he comes over. We’re not going to have a glass of wine together and cry about our messed-up love lives. What I have with Parker has gone past conversation, and we won’t be doing much talking at all when he comes. My body tightens at the thought of him all over me in my office, and I’m suddenly out of breath.

  “Please,” I say, almost in a whisper.

  When we end the call, he promises to be here in just under an hour. It’s enough time for me to get into the shower before he arrives. I want to look my best for him. I feel the way I did when I first met him, that I want to impress him. Is it wrong? Yes. But I’ve lost track of how many things in my life are wrong. I feel like the line between wrong and right has blurred.

  I had less time than I thought, and I’m barely out of the shower when Parker is at the gate. I open it for him and have just enough time to run a comb through my wet hair and pull a robe around my naked body. The robe is satin and clings to my skin. I’m smooth after shaving everything but the head on my hair, and even though I know I shouldn’t be doing this, I feel sexy.

  When I open the door, Parker stands in front of me. He wears his usual, jeans that are faded in all the right places, a deep gray collared shirt that make his eyes look grayer than blue, and square-toed dress shoes. He looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on my breasts and the curve of my hips. When he looks at my eyes, he swallows before speaking.

  “Hi,” he says. His voice is a little strained.

  I smile at him. “Hi.”

  He steps into the house and immediately the atmosphere is thick, wrapping around us like a blanket. I close the door behind him.

  “How are you doing?” he asks.

  I shrug. I’m not sure, to be honest. He was kind to ask, but his eyes are roaming again. I can’t blame him. He’s a man. And it makes me feel hot when he looks at me like that.

  “What’s under the robe?” he asks.

  I smile at him, teasing. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

  His eyes grow darker, hunger filling them up so his pupils dilate and eat away the blue-gray color of the irises, until they’re nothing but a thin line. He hesitates for a second as if he’s trying to practice self-control, before he pulls a face and steps toward me. He grabs my face and kisses me, hard. His tongue pushes into my mouth, entering me, and I sigh, pressing my body against his.

  His hands are on my body, one on my neck and one on my breast, and he’s rubbing his thumb in circles over my erect nipple. I gasp into his mouth. Heat washes through me and pools between my legs. I ache for Parker’s body. I want his cock inside of me. I’m wet and horny, and Parker knows just what to do to push me over the edge.

  He breaks the kiss and pulls away from me a bit, just enough to grab the tie that holds the robe in place. He tugs at it, undoing the bow I made, and the satin material slips open, exposing my naked body. His eyes are glued to my body.

  “God, Skylar.” His eyes go to mine. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I don’t feel like he’s feeding me a line. I trust him completely.

  He reaches out to me as if my body is a magnet and he can’t help himself. My nipples, already erect from anticipation and the chill in the room, tighten even more, and I have goosebumps on my skin. When Parker’s fingers brush against my skin, I shiver. He runs his hands over my breasts, over my stomach, under the robe around my back, and pulls me closer. He kisses me again. I can feel how hard he is when he presses up against me, his pants tight around his hips with the strain of his cock. I want that. I can feel the shape of him and taste of him in my mouth.

  I want to take him into my mouth and suck him off, but not here. Not in the living room where I spend time relaxing with Paul. I take Parker by the hand and lead him through the house, up the stairs to the main bedroom. I close the door behind me and turn the lights on dim. When I turn to Parker, he looks at me like a predator looks at its prey, like he wants to eat me. I smile at him because it’s exactly what I want, eventually, but right now, it’s going to be the other way around.

  I walk toward him, my hips rolling, showing off what I have. When I’m in front of him, I let the robe slip off my shoulders and fall to the floor. I’m naked in front of him, and he’s fully clothed, and I’m not insecure in the least. There’s something about Parker that makes me feel like I am indeed the most beautiful woman in the world.

  I fiddle with his buckle, unzip his pants, and kneel before him as I pull his jeans over his hips. I take the underwear with it so that his cock springs free, and he’s hard and eager, his crotch almost the same height as my face. The flesh is thick and the skin smooth, silk over steel, and veins protrude along the hard shaft. I wrap my fingers in a circle around his shaft, and he lets out a burst of air like he’s been holding his breath.

  His head is large and smooth, and a drop of precome oozes out the tip when I squeeze my fingers. I slip my lips over his cock, sucking only on the mushroom head. He’s scalding hot, and the smell of his sex is in my nostrils as I push him deeper into my mouth, swirling my tongue along the bottom of him. I cup my other hand over
his balls and squeeze lightly. I bob my head back and forth, sucking him into my mouth and using my tongue when I pull him out. When he’s almost all the way out of my mouth, I pay attention to the tip, running my teeth lightly over the edge, flicking my tongue over him, driving him crazy the way he does with me.

  Parker groans, his hands in my hair, but he doesn’t push me toward him, forcing himself deeper down my throat. Instead, he pulls back and slips out of my mouth with a suction sound.

  “I can’t,” he growls and swallows. “Not without coming.”

  I look up at him. He pulls me up so that I’m standing.

  “I don’t want to come yet.” He closes his eyes, and it looks like he’s trying to maintain control. He swallows hard. “I want to fuck you.”

  Parker

  Skylar’s mouth is quite possibly the most erotic place on earth. When she gives me a blow job, she gives herself over to the deed. She focuses on all my erogenous zones, and I can’t think straight. When her mouth close over my cock, I stop thinking altogether because her mouth is hot and it feels like I’m already inside of her, but in a different way. She uses her hands and her mouth together and draws the lust out until I’m ready to ravish her. I undo the top two buttons of my shirt and pull the rest of it over my head from behind, like a t-shirt.

  I want to come in her mouth and down her throat. I want to mark her as mine. It’s a very primal thing to do, and it’s silly to think that coming on her would mark her as mine, but I want to do it anyway.

  But I also want to do other things to her, and coming now would stop me from doing that for a while. I can recover, of course. For her, I can get hard again, but I’m worried about how much time we have. She said Paul won’t be coming home tonight, but I’m scared he’ll change his mind. Nothing good could come from my brother walking in on me having sex with his wife, no matter how unmarried they are right now.

  So, instead of her sucking me until I release inside her mouth, I stop her and pull out. I pull her up so that she stands in front of me. I put my hand on her hip and my thumb over that little butterfly tattoo of hers. When I speak, my voice is deep with desire, and I sound almost animalistic.

  “I want to fuck you,” I say. I swallow, the desire so thick in my throat I have to breathe around it. “I want you.”

  Skylar’s blue eyes are dark, and her face is serious when she nods.

  “I want you, too.”

  But what does she mean by that? Is it more than just sex?

  Because when I say to her that I want to fuck her, I mean I want to ravish her. I want to take her body and have my way with her. I want to fuck her so hard that she can’t remember her own name. I want to release my load inside her, all over her body, and claim her again and again. I want to push her over the edge so that she loses control.

  But when I say that I want her, I don’t just mean for sex. I mean all of her. I am in love with Skylar, and I want to be with her. I want her to be mine. I want to know her as a person, her wants and needs, her fears, her pain, her pleasure. I want to know that part of her that she won’t show anyone. I want to love her.

  I don’t know if she means all of that when she says she wants me, too. I don’t know if this is all lust for her and nothing more. I want it to be more, but I can’t expect that from her. In her mind, she’s still married, and she chose Paul over me for a reason.

  When she touches my cheek, I push the thoughts away. Whatever I’ve got going on in my mind and my heart, I’m going to push it aside for the night and focus on her. Skylar is the only thing that matters tonight.

  “What are you into?” Skylar asks.

  “You,” I answer.

  She giggles, and it’s adorable.

  “I mean, what sex stuff. You know?”

  I shake my head. “Anything when it involves you, baby.”

  She smiles at me, her cheeks going rosy, and I realize she’s blushing. She gets a mischievous glint in her eye and walks to the bed. She kneels on the floor and pulls an empty suitcase out from underneath the bed. She digs deeper and retrieves a black box that she puts aside before pushing the empty suitcases back under the bed.

  She opens the box. I realize it’s a shoe box for boots, bigger than regular shoe boxes, and inside, she has a myriad of toys. Skylar is kinky. I like the idea.

  “Which one do you want?” she asks.

  I walk toward her and study the contents. She has everything from vibrator eggs and panties, to dildos and other toys I don’t even recognize. I pick up a small vibrator. It’s purple, just a little thicker and longer than my fingers, not thicker and longer than my cock by far. It has a button at the tip so I know it vibrates. She takes it from me and smiles.

  She retrieves lube and closes the box. When she crawls onto the bed, it’s sexy and seductive, as if she’s doing it to display her body to me. She props herself up on the pillows with her legs wide, and everything is on display. I sit on the edge of the bed, close enough to her to see everything, but too far to touch. I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if I’m within reach of her right now.

  And the way she’s setting herself up tells me she wants to give me a show. I’m all for it.

  She lubes up the toy and runs her fingers over her pussy and down her slit, making herself even wetter. She glistens with her own wetness and the help of the lube. She switches on the vibrator, and a low hum fills the room.

  Her one hand is on her chest, and slowly, she drags her fingers onto her breast. She pinches her own nipple. Her lips are parted. She lowers the vibrator to the top of her slit and slides it over her clit. When she runs over her clit with it, she gasps through her parted lips.

  I lick my own lips, and my breathing comes hard and fast. My cock aches with anticipation and need. I want to take her, but I want to see her little show first.

  Her eyes are closed, and her lips are parted. Her hand on her breast tugs at her nipple, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. With her other hand, she runs the vibrator over her clit again and again, gasping and making whimpering sounds.

  She pushes the vibrator into her, and the humming changes as her body absorbs it. She gasps with an open mouth, and I can barely contain myself. I chose the smaller toy, even though she has dildos that are quite big, because there is no way I want any of her toys to be more satisfying than me.

  When I can’t hold back anymore, I crawl to her on the bed, and the mattress dips beneath my weight. I press my body against hers, skin on skin, and put my hand on her hand with the toy. I move the toy with her hand still around it, pumping it slowly in and out of her the short distance it will go.

  It’s almost the same as she was doing to herself, but now that I’ve taken control, she gasps louder, squirming on the bed. I pull the toy out of her, and she lets go, allowing me to take over. I draw the vibrator along her slit, back to her clit, and I circle her clit, rolling it around. She writhes and moans, her body seemingly anchored by the toy I’m using on her.

  I watch her face. The expression is pure ecstasy. She doesn’t care what she looks like at all. Her eyes are closed, her jaw slack and her lips open. She’s breathing hard, and the breaths come in ragged gasps. I lean my chest against hers, keeping up the pace on her clit, and I press my lips against her mouth. It takes her a moment to kiss me back. I slide my tongue into her mouth, and she lets me taste her. I start moving my hips, grinding my hard cock against her hips, mimicking the motion I’m using with the vibrator and the way I’m sliding my tongue in and out of her mouth.

  Judging by her gasps and the way she’s whimpering rather than moaning, I can tell her orgasm is close. I keep at it, using my hips, my tongue, and my hands to push her over the edge. Her whimpering changes to cries, and she lets out a scream that fills the room. It’s erotic and beautiful, all at the same time. She orgasms, and her body tightens. She turns to me, burying her face in my neck, and her body spasms against mine. For a moment, she stops breathing, and a shudder travels through her body.

  The
orgasm fades a little, and her eyes flutter open.

  I’m naked, aside for my socks. I pull them off, too. I want to be completely naked with her. She’s so open with me, no holds barred, and I love it.

  I crawl between her legs and position myself against her entrance. I’m about to push into her when I have an idea. I’ve done this position with her before. I want more. I want something different.

  I lift her legs so that they’re upright against my chest and her body is perpendicular to mine. With her feet on either side of my head, I run my hands down her legs. Her eyes are glued to me, and her lips are still parted. It makes me want to push my fingers or my cock into her mouth, but I have other things planned for the moment.

  I push into her and watch her eyes widen a little with surprise, before they roll back into her head and her eyes close. I fuck her like this, and she moans, her brow knitted in a frown like it hurts a little. I know she would stop me if it did. Or maybe a bit of pain is something she likes. The idea turns me on, and I fuck her harder. I bang into her, reaching further into her, touching her cervical wall. I’m ready for her to tell me to stop, women rarely like it, but she doesn’t tell me to stop. In fact, she opens her beautiful blue eyes and stares at me, her pupils are dilated, her cheeks are flushed, and she gasps in rhythm with my fucking.

  It’s so hard, I can barely contain it. I want to come, but I won’t. Not yet. I’m fucking Skylar, the woman of my dreams, and I want to draw it out as long as I can in case it never happens again. I want this to be perfect if it’s going to be my last shot at it. I pump into her a couple more times when I realize that I’ll have to change something if I want to last longer than this.

  I slow down, trying to regain my control. Skylar pouts at me, but I know this is giving her a breather as well.