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

by Alexis Angel

  The sentiment was echoed throughout the nation. In a random sample survey conducted by Washington Beat in partnership with the New York Daily Journal, over 80% of Americans indicated that they approved of the job performance of the President. A further 78% of Americans indicated that they believed that Ms. Draper would make a good First Lady.

  A whopping 67% of Americans believed that she had the right temperament and demeanor to help the President overcome challenges he may have had.

  And finally, 95% of Americans believe that the President is much better off with Ms. Draper than without her. Fun fact though that the poll also measured. Roughly 72% of all female respondents wished that they could switch places with Ashley Draper and be the President’s fiancée.

  Well, that 72% of female Americans (and quite a few men too, I’ll wager) also includes me. And while I am disappointed that I won’t be able to run my tongue down the Presidential abs any time soon after meeting him at a bar and having him take me to the back room where he would take me to paradise three or four times with those 12 inches that Washington rumors say he’s got swinging between his legs…

  Oh my, well, that went a bit off track, I suppose. Nevertheless, I think we are going to have a very fine White House with a very amazing First Family if the last several weeks are any indication.

  It’s going to be an amazing rest of term. I’m looking forward to it!

  Ashley

  “You’re the queen of the ballroom,” Austin whispers into my ear as we waltz through the room arm-in-arm. I look up at him and smile, a warm feeling making my heart beat softly.

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” I whisper back at him teasingly, my smile widening as another senator lines up to greet us.

  Austin’s Town Hall performance was a show for the ages, something akin to Jimmy Hendrix at Woodstock, and everyone seems to have decided to turn this fundraising dinner into a celebratory gala of sorts. Of course, luck would have it that the place would be packed with all the usual DC suspects. But what was I expecting? You don’t go to the Ritz to mingle with your everyday American. And, although I’m not interested in impressing all this supposed elite, that’s the reason I’m now wearing an expensive deep blue Carolina Herrera gown. I might not want to impress anyone tonight, but I have to do it; it’s part of being Austin’s fiancée.

  “Congratulations, Mr. President,” another senator says, shaking Austin’s hand heartily and then turning to shake mine. It’s been like this for the past 20 minutes, since we strolled inside the room that an army of senators, aides, pundits and what have you, have lined up to congratulate Austin on his terrific performance at the Town Hall. Judging by the way some of these senators are speaking, you’d say that the Presidential elections are just going to be a formality, one to open the way into four more years of Austin as President.

  More than just a great success for Austin, the Town Hall was a kick in the balls for Walker. Austin wiped the floor with Walker’s reputation and, after his little stunt of giving Walker’s phone number to the audience, I’ve heard that all of his staff has been buried under all the calls they’re receiving. The media should change Austin’s nickname from President Player to President Prankster.

  Giving Austin a moment of privacy with one of the senators, I step to the side and accept a flute of champagne from one of the passing waiters. I lean slightly against one of the walls at the end of the ballroom, watching him from a distance.

  I can hardly believe that, just a few weeks ago, I felt nothing but disdain toward Austin. And now look at me, feeling proud of my man. And, yeah, I said my man. I can’t say exactly when I started developing feelings for Austin, but it happened. At first I thought it was just lust and desire, a physical craving that somehow was making me feel all confused, but I quickly realized that it was more than just that.

  And now, looking at him in his perfect tuxedo, his strong posture dominating the room, I can’t help but feel proud that I’m his fiancée. I know… I’m just a fake fiancée but, somehow, this feels real. Taking a deep breath, I try to push all these feelings to the back of my mind, after all, I have a job to do.

  Finishing with the senator, Austin makes his way toward me, dodging a long line of people still expecting a personal word from the President.

  “This is going well, isn’t it?” he asks me, placing one hand on my waist and looking around the room with a confident smile.

  “It’s going perfectly,” I reply, keeping mental notes of how everyone in the room is reacting to him. Most people are genuine in the way they’re congratulating Austin, but some of them just rub me off in the wrong way. And, trust me, if there’s something I’ve learned how to do, it’s how to read people. I guess that the talents that helped me turn my company into a success are coming in handy now.

  “But it’s going to be even more perfect once we get out of here,” he whispers offhandedly, his words barely audible.

  “Oh, why’s that?” I reply in the same tone, looking at him and running my tongue between my lips. It’s not like I need him to say it ... but I want him to.

  “Celebrating here is fine … but I want to do a celebration of our own once we get home. A naked kind of celebration.”

  “You’re in luck ... “ I whisper teasingly, offering him a wicked grin. “I’ve already saved us some time.” He arches one eyebrow, waiting for an explanation, and I just smile and breathe out softly. “I’m not wearing anything under this gown…”

  “Jesus,” he mutters with a chuckle, stealing my flute of champagne and downing the whole thing at once. “You keep saying stuff like that and I might end up fucking you in front of all these people.”

  “Doesn’t sound so bad,” I laugh, but I quickly shut up as a tall man with balding hair steps through the double doors of the ballroom all by himself. Even though I’ve never him, I’ve seen his face enough times on TV to know who he is.

  Bob Walker, Speaker of the House and Austin’s sworn enemy.

  I can feel the tension rise in the room as Walker ambles through the ballroom, his beady eyes finding Austin and me. Without a missed step, he makes a straight line toward the both of us, an arrogant smile adorning his thin lips.

  “Mr. President!” he greets Austin with his high-pitched voice, offering him his hand.

  “Walker,” Austin replies coolly, taking the man’s hand into his. “Glad you’ve found the time to show up.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t miss a party like this for the world, would I? And who is this lovely lady?” he asks, turning to me as his grin widens. He knows exactly who I am, but he’s still insisting on a formal introduction. This is the kind of man who needs the political game of intrigue more than he needs the air to breathe.

  “My fiancée, Ashley,” Austin introduces me, and I offer Walker my hand. He takes it in his and, instead of simply shaking it, he bends over and kisses the back of my hand with a flourish from his free hand.

  “Glad to finally meet you,” he tells me, locking his eyes with mine. Although I can’t say exactly what it is, there’s something in the way he’s looking at me that just makes me uncomfortable, as if there were bugs crawling under my skin. “I see that the lovely Korean ambassador has been forgotten,” he continues, straightening his back and looking straight at Austin. He’s provoking him, throwing him the hook and bait in the hopes that Austin bites on it.

  “I didn’t take you for the kind of man who would read the tabloids,” I say before Austin can utter a single word.

  “I don’t read the --”

  “They just print anything, don’t they? All they want is to sell … and I guess that some people out there just enjoy their conspiracy theories.” I started by being subtle but the more I speak, the bolder I grow. “I’m just glad you didn’t bring your tin foil hat to the party, Mr. Walker. Although, I must say, I think it’d suit you,” I tell him casually, as if I was commenting on the weather.

  “Seems like you’ve found a smart woman, Mr. President,” Walker throws at Austin, completely
ignoring my remarks. Then, his gaze falling over me, he looks down my body with an appraising expression on his face. “Perhaps too smart for her good,” he whispers, and I can’t even tell if he meant for me to hear it.

  “I guess it’s true; some men are really intimidated by women with a brain,” I find myself saying before I even take the time to measure my words. There’s something about Walker that just unleashes that combative side of me.

  I swear to you, it’s like the air goes quiet around me. You ever been in that situation where it seems like everyone is now looking at you?

  Well, that’s me now.

  Walker is quiet. He’s sizing me up.

  “Sometimes pretty little ladies should know when to just shut up and look pretty,” he says with an evil smile.

  En garde.

  “Sometimes old blowhards should know when they’re outmatched,” I reply back with a steely voice. I can tell that Austin is looking at the two of us. But my eyes don’t move from Walker.

  Before Walter can reply, though, Austin grabs me by the arm.

  But I shrug him off.

  “Old blowhards might know more than they let on,” Walker replies back coolly. “Enough to wipe the fake smile makeup off pretty little ladies. Never underestimate what an old man can get up to.”

  No it’s not just Austin. There are literally a circle of people watching me.

  And his reply is baiting me. Merde.

  “Oh, I know for a fact what old men can and can’t get up,” I say, eyeing him and pointedly looking at his crotch. “And I’m not worried about what they can try to get up. Because I know it won’t last more than an hour when the Viagra wears off.”

  Touche.

  Walker doesn’t know what to say. And before he can do anything, I leave him sputtering, turning around and walking the other way.

  “Enjoy yourself, Walker,” Austin says in a hurrying after me.

  “What?” I whisper as he pulls me across the ballroom, leading me toward a quiet place.

  “He’s a dangerous guy,” he says in a hushed tone. “You don’t want to become his target.”

  “It’s a bit too late for that, isn’t it? Besides, I don’t like men like them, always prancing around as if they own the world.”

  “I’m serious, Ash. I worry about you.” He turns to me and looks me in the eyes, an expression of concern deepening the soft lines around his eyes.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I tell him, running my fingers down the length of his tie. “Men like him don’t scare me.”

  “You know, Ash, I like it when you get tough,” Austin replies, lowering his voice until it becomes a barely audible whisper.

  “You do?” I ask him, taking one step toward him and almost pressing my breasts against his chest. “Why don’t you show me exactly how much you like it?” This time I’m the one lowering my voice, anticipation filling my words.

  “Just wait till we get home and --”

  “Why wait?” I cut him short, the gears inside my mind already turning fast. “I know where all the security cameras are; which means that I also know where the blinds spot are.

  He doesn’t even try to argue against me. He simply matches up the desire dancing inside my head with his words.

  “Lead the way, Ashley.”

  Ashley

  Holding his hand in mine, I lead him through the crowd with a kind of coiled patience. I’m trying to act normally, as not to raise any suspicions, but it’s hard to act normally with your fluids dripping down your legs. That’s one of the drawbacks of not wearing any underwear. Yeah, you didn’t think I was just teasing him, did you? I wasn’t joking when I told him I wasn’t wearing anything under my gown. There’s something outrageous and obscene about wearing a gown so expensive it’s almost outrageous, and having nothing between it and your skin.

  I love it.

  “Where are we going?” Austin asks me with a whisper, and I can tell that he’s as impatient as I am.

  “Broom closet,” I whisper back at him, a grin dawning on my lips as I say it. You see, this isn’t the first time I’m at the Ritz. I once had a mission that involved a high-ranking lobbyist, and he was staying here at the time. I studied the blueprints of the whole place back then, and I remember a small broom closet that could offer some privacy if needed be. I never got the chance to use it, but I guess that having that information in the back of my mind turned out to be a useful thing.

  “Just going to get some air,” Austin his security detail as two Secret Services agent try to follow us out of the ballroom. Reluctantly, they stay behind us. I lead Austin down a corridor and, looking over my shoulder to try and make sure that no one can see us, I head straight toward a discrete door.

  “Here we are,” I say, turning the handle and walking inside the cramped room. Austin follows after me, closing the door behind us and hitting the light switch on the wall.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding,” he says, looking around at all the cleaning apparel piled up to the ceiling in the small room.

  “No, I wasn’t,” I reply. Grabbing him by his shirt, I offer him a wicked grin and pull him into me. Our lips meet as he rests his hands on my waist and, the moment that happens, I simply close my eyes and submit to all the lust screaming inside my mind. God, I needed to be alone with him. If I had to wait until this whole thing was over, I’d go insane.

  And now here I am, inside a broom closet with the President of the United States. Yeah, my life’s that crazy.

  When I accepted this job, I had no idea my relationship with Austin would become this insane. I thought I wouldn’t even have to see him outside of formal functions, for God’s sake… But now here I am, hiding with him while we should be out there, greasing the gears of high society… But, oh well. It’s so much better to be with him in here.

  Surrendering to his kiss, I let all the lust inside my body grow and grow until it becomes something else entirely. Something that I just can’t control. Something that I don’t want to control.

  Tilting my head sideways, I curl my fingers over the fabric of his shirt and press my mouth against his as hard as I can, parting his lips with the tip of my tongue; then I just slide it inside his mouth, both our tongues dancing in a frenzy of lust. Lost in our kiss, I let the seconds passes us by as my pussy grows even wetter.

  Pulling back from him, all I have the time to do is take a deep breath; with his hands still on my waist, he pushes me back and pins me against the wall. Grabbing me by the wrists, he forces me to raise both my arms up and pins them over my head.

  “What if we get caught?” He asks me, but the grin on his lips tells me that he’s enjoying the moment, the adrenaline of knowing that it’s possible we might get caught adding to the whole experience. I know it because I feel exactly the same.

  “Then we get caught,” I reply, each words that flies out from between my lips making my blood boil, my veins burning with all the desire rushing through them. My thong is a wet mess right now, my fluids drenching the fabric in a way that hasn’t happened before. As good as everything is with Austin, we were never in a situation where we might be caught.

  Sure, I know, what a reckless thing for us to be doing… But that’s part of being alive. Truly alive, I mean.

  “You’re insane,” he says, smiling at me while flames of lust dance behind his eyes.

  “Yes, I am,” I chuckle, throwing my head back and offering him my neck. Without hesitating, he leans forward and presses his mouth against my soft skin, pleasure flooding my mind as if a dam has just burst. Escaping from his hold on my wrists, I move as fast as I can and grab his shirt, my fingers working furiously as I unbutton it. I could just pull at the fabric and make all the buttons pop out, but I don’t think it’d be a good idea for Austin to go back to the ballroom with a ruined shirt, his six-pack out in the open for everyone to see.

  Untucking his shirt, I let the palm of my hands then run over the muscles in his chest, my heart tightening as I feel the hard contour of his pectorals an
d abs. God, I simply can’t get tired of his perfect body. It’s as if God himself designed every inch of Austin’s body, hell bent on creating the perfect man.

  Closing the small distance between us, Austin presses himself against me, the touch of his naked skin making that fire inside of me grow even fiercer. Placing one hand on the back of my neck, he tangles his fingers on my hair and kisses me again, our tongues wrestling against one another as fireworks go off behind my shut eyelids.

  Lost in our kiss, I feel one of his hands go down my body; grabbing at the front of my gown, he pulls it up and then slides his hand toward my inner thigh. My skin prickles as I feel his fingertips on my skin, and I start swaying my hips by instinct. Perhaps trying to check if I was telling him the truth before, he brushes his fingertips between my inner thighs, his fingers immediately finding my naked pussy.

  “You’re the devil,” he whispers, pulling back from our kiss and smiling at me. He keeps on brushing his fingertips over my inner lips, but I need so much more than his slow teasing. And, right now, I’m the one in charge.

  Taking my hands to his naked chest, I push him back and then hike the front of my gown up to my waist. Grabbing him by the wrist, I guide his hand back home, forcing him to press its palm hard against my pussy. Groaning, he presses his thumb against my clit and starts stroking it softly, my mind spinning as he does it.

  Wearing no underwear really turned out to be a good idea, there’s no doubt about it.

  Moaning softly, I surrender to his touch, his fingers caressing my pussy in such a way that I can’t even open up my eyes. My fingers are still curled around his wrist but, just for now, I allow him to keep whatever rhythm he wants to. I mean, I can always take charge, can’t I?