He swept my sweat-drenched hair off my neck, pressing his lips against my ear. His hot breath made me shiver, and every vibration of his voice left me breathless. "You're not the first to try to seduce me," he whispered, his warm breath grazing my skin. "But you're my favorite." His eyes locked with mine, piercing and intense, before he slowly pulled me away. I watched him take my red lace thong, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. A wave of desire overwhelmed me, mixed with a strange sense of defeat. I hadn't expected this, nor the palpable tension that had settled between us. And now, I'm an intern for Cole, the writer of the steamiest novels I've ever read. All of this is more real, more intense, and most of all, more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.
11:00 p.m.
"Jesus, Mercy! Just march over there, throw your panties in his lap, and fuck his writer's block away!" Yvette urged, pointing toward the man at the bar with such enthusiasm that I almost spilled my drink.
I choked on my drink, the burning liquid flying up my nose, singeing everything in its path. "Fucking hell, Yvette. I'm pretty sure that's not how it works!! You can't just hump someone's writer's block away." I cried out, knowing there was no way for it to work. It was about the inspiration, not the perspiration between two people.
"You never know until you try," Amanda piped in from across the booth, her eyes never leaving her brightly lit phone screen. The sound of her nails tapping against the glass screen added a rhythmic beat to the conversation.
Yvette licked her lips, her brown eyes scanning the man at the bar like a hawk eyeing its prey. She looked him up and down, not even trying to be subtle. He was slumped over, nursing what I assumed was his fifth drink of the night, the weight of his untamed energy reflected in his posture. The kind of man who looked like he could break hearts and just as easily pick up the pieces again, without so much as a second thought. The very type of man every sexual being in a 50-foot radius wanted, but couldn't have. "I would..." She breathed, her voice thick with lust.
"Too bad you're almost married!" Amanda interrupted, shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh, holding her diamond ring in the air like a trophy, pouting like a child who had been denied a candy bar.
Yvette rolled her eyes dramatically, but the gleam in her eyes never faltered. "Aaron better appreciate how much I love him right now," she muttered, lowering her hand with a resigned sigh.
I snorted, rolling my eyes as I drained the last of my drink. "You're the lucky one. I still haven't found a dick in six months," I grumbled. The coil of heat in my abdomen was starting to make me twitch, my body yearning for the relief I couldn't quite reach.
I took another sip from my straw, trying not to choke this time, the coldness of the ice only making my need feel more intense. There was nothing worse than an unsatisfied desire, especially when you were surrounded by people who had no problem getting what they wanted.
"Yeah-ya know-fuck Neil for what he did to you, and fuck him for... well, who he is! But you've got to move on, explore bigger and better specimens." Yvette grinned, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously as she eyed the man at the bar again. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, clearly imagining all the ways she could have her fun with him. "Look at him," she purred, "He's everything. Those broad shoulders, that jawline, the way he holds himself... Mmm."
"Stop it," I snapped, glancing at the man in question. "I mean-he's... he's C.J. Cole. He's untouchable, Yvette." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, pushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear as I turned my attention back to my friends.
"I would give anything to know what it's like to be on the receiving end of those eyes," Yvette said with a dreamy look in her eyes, her tone dropping an octave lower.
I gulped down another sip of my drink, the burn of alcohol masking the heat creeping up my neck. "Wouldn't it be a conflict of interest?" I muttered, trying to deflect the conversation to a safer topic. "I mean, I work for his publisher. I edit his books..." I trailed off, hoping they would see the logic in my excuses and drop the subject.
Amanda raised an eyebrow, finally lowering her phone and looking at me like I had lost my mind. "Girl, you don't need to get so technical. It's not like you're going to write his next bestseller-wait, are you?" She grinned. "Cause that could be fun. Imagine how many words you could help him write with those legs of yours."
I shot her a glare, not amused.
Yvette sighed dramatically, putting her hand on her cheek like a lovesick teenager. "It's C.J. fucking Cole. The man writes sex like a god. His books have sold millions. I mean-imagine what he's like in bed?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, but it still carried a teasing edge. "His tongue..."
"Yvette!!!" I snapped, cutting her off before she could finish whatever filth she was about to say. I didn't need those images in my head right now. I had enough trouble with my own fantasies, thank you very much.
"You keep it in your pants," I muttered, half-joking but mostly serious.
"Speak for yourself," Yvette shot back. "I'm just saying... if I had a chance with him..." She trailed off, biting her lip as if imagining all the ways she could make him hers. I almost wished I could slap some sense into her, but I knew it wouldn't make a difference.
"I'm serious," I protested, though my voice came out quieter than I intended. "I can't! Plus-he never talks. I swear I've brought him coffee a few times at the office, and the dude never speaks. He just stares at me with those eyes..." My voice trailed off, and I had to look down, suddenly feeling very small under the weight of my own words.
Amanda snorted in amusement, her phone already back in her hand. "Those 'see-through-your-soul' eyes?" she said, looking at me like I had just revealed the universe's biggest secret. "Girl, you're not fooling anyone. You want him. I can see it all over your face."
I winced, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "No, I don't," I muttered, even though my body betrayed me every time C.J. Cole was in the room. His presence was electric, and despite myself, I couldn't help but feel the pull whenever he was near.
"Come on, Mercy," Yvette said, leaning forward across the table with a conspiratorial glint in her eye. "You're telling me you haven't thought about what it would be like to throw him on that bar, rip his shirt off, and-"
"Enough!" I snapped, my face burning now. I glanced over at the bar again, my heart racing. C.J. Cole was still there, his broad shoulders hunched over his drink, his eyes scanning the room in that way that made everyone else in the vicinity feel like they were invisible.
I couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to be the one he noticed. But one thing was for sure: I didn't want to be another name on his list of fleeting, disposable women.
But still... the idea of him? The way he made everyone else seem insignificant? The allure was undeniable.
Yvette seemed to sense my hesitation, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "You could be the one to finally make him talk, Mercy."
My fingers gripped the edge of my glass, the weight of her words hanging in the air between us. "I'm not that girl," I muttered, but deep down, something told me that maybe, just maybe, I was.
She was barely twenty years old when her heart was shattered by the man she thought she could love, a man who, out of spite and a thirst for revenge, left her in pain. He hated her for a crime she didn't commit, a crime she didn't even know about. The pain was unbearable, the betrayal devastating. Five years later, Ana was no longer the fragile, vulnerable young woman she once was. She had grown, matured, and built a strength she never knew she had back then. Life had changed her; she no longer believed in love or the goodness of men. She had learned not to let her emotions control her. Yet, when Devin reappeared, her balance faltered. He had returned, determined to finish what he hadn't been able to do before: his revenge. His dark, cold eyes exuded an icy hostility, but Ana knew he was no longer the man he once was. The Devin of today was more cynical, more ruthless. Still, she couldn't ignore the lingering attraction she had always felt for him. Devin, for his part, bore the scars of a life marked by betrayal and pain. Since the age of fourteen, revenge had become his only obsession. Fate had driven him to hate the daughter of the man who had destroyed his family. But when he crossed Ana's gaze again, he realized that the war he had waged against her could destroy both of them. Could their love be possible, or would the past be too heavy to bear?
Bronte was the beloved girl of everyone, always smiling and full of life. Her popularity made her an essential person in everyone's eyes. Yet, there was one exception: Blake. This arrogant bad boy, with his messy hair and piercing gaze, didn't even seem to notice her. But that was before her parents went to Africa. Forced to leave for several weeks, they entrusted Bronte to Blake. Upon her arrival, Bronte felt like an intruder in his world. Their first interactions were cold, marked by endless pranks and arguments that never seemed to end. Yet, behind Blake's attitude, Bronte sensed something deeper, a secret he hid carefully. Over the days, their relationship slowly began to change. Despite the provocations and tensions, an attraction started to form between them. Blake couldn't admit it, but it was clear that Bronte was no longer just the neighbor.
"Look at yourself in the mirror, little bun. You're still shivering under my touch, so excited, so pitiful..." His voice was low, teasing, as he stroked her cheek, his fingers trailing down to her trembling neck. "Let go of me, you bastard!" She struggled, trying to twist away, her hands pushing against his chest. "What did you do to the divorce paper?!" He smirked, not even flinching at her resistance. "It wasn't a divorce paper, baby." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "I changed the contract." Her eyes widened, confusion flashing in her gaze. "What do you mean-?" "In the end," he whispered, "you belong to me, and only me." His fingers brushed over her lips as he held her in place, savoring her resistance, knowing all too well how much she wanted to escape. But it didn't matter. She was already his, and the paper proved it. There was no going back now.
Jack had just arrived in town, a cold breeze following him, signaling the arrival of winter. The first snowflakes danced in the air, covering the streets with a white blanket. Summer, on the other hand, hated this season. Every year, she dreaded the cold, the gray skies, and the early darkness. But that day, something changed. When he walked into her café, an unusual shiver ran down her spine. The man with silver hair and icy blue eyes, as cold as the winter sea, seemed to bring a breath of fresh air with him. But there was something else, something captivating in his presence, a mystery that Summer didn't yet understand. Jack, with his calm, frosty demeanor, knew how to bring the chill, almost as if he could make the air feel sharper. Yet, soon, she would discover that beneath that apparent coldness, he had the power to ignite a fire inside her. A fire she never imagined could exist.
She loved her husband. She gave him everything, without hesitation, offering her heart, her soul, and her dreams. But he was nothing but a receiver, never a giver. He took without ever giving back, feeding off her affection and sacrifices. He was selfish, and every gesture she made for him seemed like a mere formality to satisfy his needs. He was never there for her, except when it served him. The only things he offered were confusion. He gave her empty promises, sweet words that rang hollow. He offered manipulation, ideals disguised as his "undeniable love," but in reality, he only loved one person: himself. She adored him, but he saw in her nothing more than a tool to fill his inner emptiness. He had invaded her mind to the point where, when he proposed an open relationship, he made her believe it was her idea, seducing her with subtle words. She wanted to believe him, convincing herself that it was a step of compromise, a sacrifice for the love he claimed to have for her. But deep down, she knew it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted him, and only him. He wanted her, and all the others he could get, all those who would feed his insatiable need for power and domination. But all of that changed when Tobias Wrexler entered their lives. His intense gaze, his silent yet powerful presence, brought a turning point in her life. The shadow of her husband suddenly seemed far less threatening in the light that Tobias brought.
Maddison Holt, the youngest and only female alpha in North America, took her father's place after his death and her mother's illness. She's always believed a mate would be a weakness. However, her mate is the killer who slaughtered her father. Jay Pierce, the most feared alpha in history, is the devil himself-handsome but merciless. Maddison wants nothing to do with him, but he intends to make her submit. A power struggle where only one rule exists: one of them must yield. The war between Maddison and Jay begins.
On the day of their wedding anniversary, Joshua's mistress drugged Alicia, and she ended up in a stranger's bed. In one night, Alicia lost her innocence, while Joshua's mistress carried his child in her womb. Heartbroken and humiliated, Alicia demanded a divorce, but Joshua saw it as yet another tantrum. When they finally parted ways, she went on to become a renowned artist, sought out and admired by everyone. Consumed by regret, Joshua darkened her doorstep in hopes of reconciliation, only to find her in the arms of a powerful tycoon. "Say hello to your sister-in-law."
"I've warned you from the beginning. Don't marry him, but you won't listen." Darcy stood close to me and smiled with concern. "You're not a woman worthy of a man as handsome, rich, smart, and virile as Blaze." My whole body trembled at her words. "Have you no shame?" I asked. "Take a good look at yourself, Heather." She stared at me in the mirror. "You can't even glance at your ugly face. Do you think Blaze can endure a lifetime of gazing at that scar?" Heather Bailey got a surprise from her husband: a divorce agreement. After a year of marriage and facing ups and downs, she couldn't believe Blaze intended to divorce her. She was devastated when she saw him gazing lovingly at another woman. After signing the divorce papers, shockwaves caught her up. Her flower shop was burned to the ground. Her father's company collapsed, and her parents blamed her. She struggled to rebuild her life from the ground up and became more successful than ever. Having many customers from influential families, she started her revenge on Blaze. She won the very thing he wanted, but that was just the beginning.
Chloe Miler, a naïve young woman, waits shyly to spend Valentine's Day with her boyfriend, but is betrayed on that day when she witnesses him entangled in bed with her own sister. Chloe's heart is broken when her heartfelt love for him is trampled on in an instant. *** Lionel Williams, the mysterious billionaire, the top of the pyramid, is handsome as hell. His eyes are set high, but he is drugged, has a one-night stand with a strange woman, and is humiliated by that unknowing woman with her money! His instincts tell him it's not that simple, and he's going to find her out!
The day Lilah found out that she was pregnant, she caught her fiancé cheating on her. Her remorseless fiancé and his mistress almost killed her. Lilah fled for her dear life. When she returned to her hometown five years later, she happened to save a little boy's life. The boy's father turned out to be the world's richest man. Everything changed for Lilah from that moment. The man didn't let her experience any inconvenience. When her ex-fiancé bullied her, he crushed the scumbag's family and also rented out an entire island just to give Lilah a break from all the drama. He also taught Lilah's hateful father a lesson. He crushed all her enemies before she even asked. When Lilah's vile sister threw herself at him, he showed her a marriage certificate and said, "I'm happily married and my wife is much more beautiful than you are!" Lilah was shocked. "When did we ever get married? Last I checked, I was still single." With a wicked smile, he said, "Honey, we've been married for five years. Isn't it about time we had another child together?" Lilah's jaw dropped to the floor. What the hell was he talking about?
Mia's life is spiraling out of control. Abandoned by her mother, bullied mercilessly at school, and thrown into a household of four dangerously attractive stepbrothers, she's desperate to find her footing. "You look absolutely edible," Sean growled, his eyes devouring her. Mia felt a rush of heat between her thighs "Oh, you think so?" she purred, turning to face him. She reached out and traced her fingers along the ribbon that wrapped around his waist. "Well, I've been waiting for this all day. And I'm starving." Sean's smile grew into a predatory grin. "Then let us feast," he said, and in a flash, the ribbon fell away, exposing his rock-hard length. He stepped closer, and Mia felt the warmth of his breath on her face as he whispered, "You're going to take every inch of us tonight, aren't you?" With Rolex's teasing smirk and Sean's quiet, hot stares, Mia doesn't know where to turn-or who to trust. Every glance, every touch leaves her breathless, confused, and craving more than she should. Will Mia survive their games, or will she lose herself in a dangerous world of secrets, seduction, and forbidden desire? One house. Four brothers. Endless temptation.
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."