Novels by Nicole Author

BridgettThe highway stretched out before us like a gray ribbon, endless and suffocating.We had been driving for an hour. The Chicago skyline was a distant memory in the rearview mirror, but the feeling of dread hadn't lessened. It had grown heavier, settling in the pit of my stomach like lead."We made good time," Elliot said, tapping the steering wheel nervously. "We’ll cross the border by midnight. I have a friend in Toronto. A cabin. No internet, no cell service. He won't find us there.""He will," I whispered, staring out the window at the blurring trees. "You don't understand, Elliot. He has resources you can't even imagine.""He’s just a man with a checkbook, Bridgett," Elliot scoffed, glancing at me. "You treat him like he’s a god.""He’s not a god," I murmured, touching the bare skin of my ring finger where the diamond used to be. "He’s an Alpha.""Mommy..."A whimper from the back seat cut through the tension like a knife.I turned around instantly. "Theo? What is it, baby?

BridgettThe service hallway smelled of bleach and silence.I walked fast, the backpack slung over one shoulder, my heart beating in my throat like a trapped bird."Mami, where are we going?" Abby asked, tugging on my hand. Her voice echoed too loudly in the narrow concrete corridor."Shh, sweetie," I whispered, forcing a smile that felt like broken glass on my face. "It’s a game. We’re playing hide and seek. We have to be very quiet so Paul doesn't find us."Theo, walking on my other side, wasn't smiling.He wore his small Spiderman backpack and a deep frown. His eyes, blue with flecks of gold, scrutinized me with an intensity that didn't belong to a five-year-old."You smell like salt water," Theo said quietly. "You smell sad.""I’m not sad, baby," I lied, squeezing his hand. "I’m just focused. Come on."We reached the rear kitchen door. It was the vendor delivery entrance—the only blind spot in the camera network that Elliot knew about from the blueprints he had found online years

Bridgett«The girl or the legacy»The words on the phone screen burned into my retinas, brighter and more destructive than the sun streaming through the windows.I stared at the notification until the screen went black, my heart hammering a frantic, painful rhythm against my ribs.I dropped the phone on the bed as if it were a poisonous snake.It all made sense. The sudden coldness. The refusal to look me in the eye. The hasty retreat to the office.Jordan wasn't rejecting me because he regretted the night we spent together. He wasn't pulling away because I wasn't enough.He was pulling away because loving me was going to cost him everything."Oh, Jordan," I whispered, pressing my hands to my mouth to stifle a sob. "You idiot. You stubborn, noble idiot."I needed to see it. I needed to know the extent of the damage.I wiped my eyes, steeling myself. I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall toward his study.Paul was standing guard at the top of the stairs, distracted by his earpi

Bridgett The sun streamed through the heavy velvet curtains, painting lines of gold across the black silk sheets. I stretched, my body aching in the most delicious way possible. Every muscle felt loose, heavy, and satisfied. The lingering scent of sandalwood, rain, and raw masculinity clung to my skin, marking me more effectively than any tattoo. I reached out across the massive bed, seeking the heat source I had fallen asleep against. Cold silk. I opened my eyes. The space beside me was empty. Panic, irrational and sharp, spiked in my chest. «He left. It was a mistake. Post-clarity regret» "Relax, little wolf." The deep, rumbling voice came from the balcony door. I propped myself up on my elbows, pulling the sheet up to cover my nakedness. Jordan was standing there, leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing low-slung gray sweatpants and nothing else. His broad chest, marked with the faint scratches I had left there last night, rose and fell steadily. He held two mugs of

BrisgettThe limousine tore through the suburbs of Chicago like a missile.I sat in the back, shivering despite the heating being on full blast. The effects of the chloroform were fading, replaced by a sharp, crystal-clear rage.Jordan sat beside me, gripping my hand so tight I thought he might crack my bones. He hadn't spoken since we left the hotel. He was vibrating with a silent, terrifying energy. He wasn't just angry; he was an executioner on his way to the gallows."We’re here," he said, his voice flat.I looked out the window. The peeling beige siding of my childhood home looked ghostly under the streetlights. It looked small. Pathetic."Are you sure you want to do this?" Jordan asked, turning to me. "I can handle it. You don't have to see them.""I need to," I whispered. "I need them to know they can't hurt me anymore."Jordan nodded once. "Then let’s go."(***)My mother opened the door before we even knocked. She must have been waiting for Silas. She must have been waiting f

BridgettThe chemical stench of chloroform filled my nose, stinging my sinuses.I tried to hold my breath, to fight the black wave crashing over my mind, but the grip on my mouth was iron-tight. My heels dragged uselessly against the plush carpet as the man hauled me backward into the shadows."Almost there," the man grunted, his breath hot and sour against my neck. "Easy money."We were moving away from the screaming crowd, toward the faint red glow of an emergency exit sign. The heavy door was pushed open by a second figure, revealing the damp, cold alleyway behind the hotel.«No. If they get me into a car, I’m gone. I’ll never see my babies again»I clawed at the man’s arm, my nails digging into his jacket, but my limbs felt like they were made of lead. The drug was taking hold. My vision blurred. The world tilted.And then, the darkness behind us growled.It wasn't a human sound. It was a vibration that shook the floorboards, a primal resonance that made the hair on my arms stand

MadisonMy body simply obeyed Preston's order. His gaze held mine as I slowly sank down onto his cock. I stifled a gasp, throwing my head back, while my inner walls stretched to accommodate his thickness. It was a massive invasion and a friction so exquisite it left me breathless.Preston growled, a guttural, masculine, and arousing sound.His hands gripped my waist tightly, his fingers sinking into my skin to keep me steady as I sank all the way down to the base, fusing our bodies with a wet, definitive impact."Fuck, Madison..." he hissed, jaw clenched, the veins in his neck bulging from the titanic effort not to thrust into me all at once. "You feel so fucking good.""Move," he demanded, his husky voice slicing through the silence. "Use me, Madison."Instinct took control. I began to rock against him, testing the friction, feeling his firm texture massaging my most sensitive spots with every rise and fall. At first, it was a slow rhythm, almost torturous, enjoying the sensation of

MadisonPreston didn't give me time to process the change in atmosphere, but it wasn't rough either. His grip on my arm was firm, a statement of ownership that dragged me toward the center of the living room, where the dark leather sofas formed an island of shadow under the dim light."If you're going to behave like a brat, Madison, I'll have to correct you," he murmured, his husky voice vibrating down my spine.He sat on the armchair, spreading his legs with that innate authority that made him so irresistible. Before I could protest, he pulled me with an inescapable force that made me fall across his legs.The world inverted. Suddenly, I was face down across his lap, my belly pressed against his hard thighs. The smell of the leather sofa mixed with his personal scent, filling my senses, making me dizzy. I tried to sit up."Preston, what...?""Still," he ordered, and my body reacted with unexpected obedience.I felt his large hand grab the hem of my dress and pull it up to my waist. T

MadisonI pushed the heavy oak door and slipped inside the mansion with a smoothness I had practiced. The elegant foyer welcomed me with its usual coldness, wrapped in a silence that made me feel more like an intruder in a museum than a guest in a home.I carried my heels dangling from one finger, walking barefoot. The floor was freezing beneath the soles of my feet, a sharp contrast to the heat that still wrapped around my body thanks to the vodka and how much I had danced at the party.It was three in the morning. The mansion was supposed to be asleep, but as I crossed the archway toward the stairs, a sensation of pleasant heat settled at the nape of my neck, descending down my spine like an invisible caress. I continued on my way, thinking I had imagined it.Then, a deep voice emerged from the gloom of the main living room, to my left, and I stopped dead in my tracks."Did you have fun?"One of the lamps turned on and its warm light illuminated the corner where my father's best fri

AmeliaThere was no hesitation. He gripped my hips with those large, strong hands, his fingers sinking possessively into my skin, and pressed the head of his cock against my wet, throbbing entrance."Look at me, Amelia," he ordered in a husky voice.I looked up. His dark eyes burned with a wild intensity, shattering that mask of academic coldness he always wore. He was about to lose control, and he was doing it for me.A choked sound died in my throat when he began to sink inside me. There was no rush, only an inexorable and firm pressure. I felt how my body was forced to stretch, my walls protesting sweetly and painfully against his girth.Gabriel growled, clenching his jaw, the muscles of his imposing body tensing beneath his shirt as he struggled to hold back and not thrust into me all at once. He slid inside me until his hips crashed against mine, burying himself to the hilt, and a tide of dull pleasure ran down my spine when his size filled me completely, replacing any emptiness

AmeliaThe mahogany desk was cold against my thighs, a brutal contrast to the feverish heat emanating from Gabriel's body behind me. My breathing was erratic, shallow, the sound of my own arousal filling the office.Gabriel didn't rush. He was a methodical man, used to analyzing every detail before acting. I felt his large hands settle on my hips and a warm sensation filled my belly."Let's see what you're hiding under this skirt, Amelia," he murmured close to my ear.His hands moved down slowly, dragging my skirt up. He bunched the fabric at my waist, leaving me exposed. A shiver ran down my spine. It was pure anticipation."Beautiful," he murmured.His fingers grazed the lace of my damp panties, shamefully soaked. My body had betrayed me long before entering his office. Gabriel noticed instantly. He ran a finger over the wet fabric, pressing right at my center, and I instinctively moved my hips toward his hand, seeking more friction."Impatient," he said, with a warning tone. "And v

AmeliaThe hallway of the Literature department was plunged in that reverential silence that only exists in universities after six in the evening.My shoes clicked against the marble floor, a rhythmic and lonely sound that gave away my nervousness, even though I tried to convince myself that what I felt was indignation.I held my final essay tight against my chest like a shield. A B-plus. Gabriel had given me a damn B-plus. For any other student, it would have been cause for celebration; for me, who had devoured every mandatory and supplementary reading, who had intervened in every debate with sharp arguments just to seek his approval, it was an insult.Or a provocation.I stopped in front of the dark wooden door of his office.I took a deep breath, smoothing my skirt and adjusting the collar of my blouse. My heart beat with a stupid force, a biological betrayal I knew too well. I wasn't like this just because of the grade.I was like this because I was going to see him alone.And bec