Novels by Tee's writing

Lana's POV “I'd say this and say it once Lana” his voice had become unusually deep making me swallow hard on my spit.“The only person you should worry about his opinion is ME!!!”He moved closer still composed as usual “I don't care what they think of you. And I will make sure I handle the idiot who called you a slut. Because do you know why?” He kept moving forward.I shook my head to indicate I didn't know why. But my eyes focused on the fire burning mercilessly in his eye.A promise of something. Not warm . Not kind.But cold.More like punishment to every one deserving of it including me.At this point I could swear that my pants were soaked.No, not soaked.They were fucking ruined.My chest heaved. I couldn't even move my legs. His scent had evaded my space and even crawled up my spine sending hot waves down my legs making my pussy clench so fucking hard like it was begging for a dick I hadn't even seen yet.It was like he could sense it. Or even smell it because he walked

Lana's POV He didn’t reply.I knew he’d heard me no matter how small and almost fragile my voice came out. Yet he kept driving with his eyes fixed in the road like I hadn’t spoken at all, like it was nothing.I turned towards him, waiting for anything. Maybe a word or even a glance or an irritation. Something to just show.Yet nothing.The only sign that I wasn’t invisible to him, was his hands. I saw how his fingers slowly closed around the steering wheel, so hard the leather even began to crack beneath them.“You heard me, right?”Still silence. This time around stretching even further. But I kept talking. There was just this strong urge to pour out everything.I guess it was now after that loser had called me a slut, the weight of everything dawned on me. That just in the blink of an eye I'd lost my name. The whole world saw me as bitch that fucked her way up the ladder. And if words got out that the most influential man who doesn't fuck with noise was seen defending me in th

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing me inside a box with silence. My reflection stared back - pale, tired, and nothing like the girl I used to be. I hated how small I looked, how the shadows under my eyes had become permanent, how every breath carried the weight of that damned video. Adrian’s voice still echoed somewhere inside my chest. Go home, Lana. He’d said it like an order, not a suggestion - but with that deep, measured tone that didn’t invite argument. It left a taste in my mouth I couldn’t name - part resentment, part something far too dangerous to admit. As the elevator descended, I tried to steady my hands, but they wouldn’t stop trembling. I could still feel the ghost of his presence, the scent of cedar and spice clinging to me like a second skin. Even the sound of the elevator felt too close, too intimate, like I was trapped inside a memory I hadn’t meant to keep. When the elevator’s door opened at the lobby, I was hit by the harsh brightness of the lobby with all

I stepped into the elevator, my reflection mirrored directly on the steel walls. I still looked like a mess. My eyes looked the most tired it had ever looked all my life, my hair messy and lips chapped. I didn't even have the time to do any little touch ups. The elevator hummed softly as it rose, each floor passing like a heartbeat. And when the doors opened, he was there. Standing behind a wide desk of dark wood, sunlight spilling behind him like something out of a portrait. He turned when he heard the doors open, and for a second, the air left my lungs. Adrian. He didn’t look forty-five - maybe because youth clung to him in strange ways like in his posture, the shape of his mouth, the deliberate grace in his movements. But the small white beard that shadowed his jaw, and the faint lines by his eyes both gave him a gravity that youth never could. Then those brown hazel eyes that kept looking straight at me like he was assessing every bit of emotion I could hide. I froze in the

I woke up the next morning with my head pounding. I was lying alone in the bed, the sheets smooth beside me as if no one ever touched them. The chair by the window was empty now, with his jacket gone. For a long time, I just stared at the city outside the buildings, sharp and distant - like they belong to someone else’s life. The events of the night before blur in my mind - half dream, half memory. Then I saw it. A folded piece of paper on the nightstand - cream-colored, his handwriting boldly written on it - dark and deliberate. You owe me for last night. My office. 9 a.m. A chauffeur is waiting downstairs. Adrian. I sat there, the note trembling between my fingers. The scent of him still lingered in the air cedar, smoke, and something dangerous. And for reasons I couldn’t name, the regret in my chest felt heavier than the guilt as flashes from last night started flowing in. The first thing I did after reading the note was freeze. The paper suddenly felt too heavy in my ha

The moment I opened my eyes, the first thing I felt was the heat. Not the kind that burns, but the kind that presses along your pussy, soft and heavy and against your tender skin. My head throbbed, and my mouth was a mixture of alcohol and vomit. I guess I might have thrown up on the floor, I didn't know. I couldn't even tell if it’s morning or midnight. But I knew it was somewhere close. I blinked into light. The ceiling above me was white and high, and for a second I thought I was still in the bar, until my eyes adjusted to the edges of a chandelier, glass and gold, like ice melted into shape. Where am I? The sheets under me were so cool, too soft to belong to me. I shifted slightly, only to see someone and the sound of my own breath filled the silence. My pulse jumped. I was not alone. He sat on a chair near the window in the same position the man from the bar sat - The one with eyes that didn’t look away even when I wanted them to. He wasn't not watching me now, he was watc