LOGINpeace out.
Hi, everyone! This is Curvy Writes, and first things first: I need to take a deep, dramatic bow and then just collapse on the nearest couch. Because, people, we did it!I just want to say a massive, soul-hugging, confetti-tossing THANK YOU to every single one of you who has been reading my short story, "In Her Skin." Seriously, from the bottom of my slightly exhausted but extremely grateful heart, thank you. You guys have been the absolute best audience a writer could ask for.If you've been around since the beginning, you know this "short story" had a little identity crisis. It started as a quick idea, a little spark, and then it just... kept growing. Like a very polite, very well-dressed monster that just wouldn't stop eating my brain cells.And now, here we are, at the final page. This book is done!And I’m going to be honest with you about the ending, particularly that final chapter. I know some of you might be thinking, "Curvy, what gives? Where was the last-minute spice? The gran
He chuckled, a low, easy sound that cut straight through the remaining thread of her composure. “It's Maya's wedding, Cassidy. Wouldn't miss it for the world. You know I always told her she'd find someone who could truly keep up with her. I'm glad to see she finally did.”He didn't look like a heartbroken ex or a jilted former lover. He looked like a friend, a happy one. The sight of his casual, genuine well-wishes for Maya's new, female partner was the final, devastating blow to the fantasy she had built her exile upon. It hadn't been a grand love triangle; it had only ever been a triangle in her head.He leaned in slightly, a familiar gesture that used to signal a shared secret or an inside joke. “It's good to see you, Cass. You just... disappeared. We all missed you. Is the title of 'best friend' back on the table, now that the chaos has subsided?” he asked, a gentle, probing note in his voice.The irony was so thick it nearly choked her. The chaos hadn't subsided; she had created
Cassidy took a steadying breath, the faint, floral scent of the venue, a mix of lilies and old stone—filling her lungs. She smiled, a small, practiced upturn of the lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. Five years. Five years of silence, five years of missing a piece of her own life, all because of a feeling that, in the end, had been entirely irrelevant. The man she'd obsessed over, the one she'd sacrificed her most important friendship for, wasn't even the one standing at the altar. Her friend, Maya, had simply moved on, building a new life, a new love, one that Cassidy's agonizing feelings had never touched.The irony was a bitter, metallic taste on her tongue. It hadn't been a tragedy; it had been a misunderstanding. Her best friend hadn't lost the man; Cassidy had lost her best friend. The box of forbidden sadness she’d carried all that time felt lighter now, but only because it was empty, a relic of a fear that had never materialized.She pushed through the grand, carved oak do
Zane responded without thought, his own tongue meeting Philip’s, a desperate battle for dominance. Philip’s hand slid down Zane’s chest, past his navel, and wrapped around his cock, stroking it with a practiced rhythm. Zane’s hips bucked, an involuntary response to the exquisite friction. He felt Philip’s fingers work their way under his foreskin, teasing the sensitive tip, making him whimper. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Philip pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against Zane’s face. “You’re so wet for me already.” His thumb rubbed the bead of pre-cum, smearing it over Zane’s shaft. “Fuck you,” Zane gasped, his voice strained, his body trembling. “Soon, baby. Very soon.” Philip’s hand dropped, pushing Zane’s legs apart, then sliding between them. His fingers, strong and exploring, found Zane’s asshole, circling the tight opening. A sharp intake of breath from Zane. “No… not here.” “Yes, here. Now.” Philip’s voice was a dark command. He pressed a finger inside, sl
The metallic tang of sweat hung heavy in the air, a familiar perfume clinging to Zane’s skin. His muscles, still humming from the brutal practice, twitched beneath the thin towel draped low on his hips. Across the bustling locker room, Philip leaned against a bank of lockers, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, droplets of water tracing paths down his sculpted chest. A sneer, quick as a viper’s strike, flickered across Philip’s lips as Zane caught his eye. It was a language they spoke, a deep-seated animosity simmering beneath the surface, yet always, always, ending here. In this humid, testosterone-soaked space, their hatred curdled into their veins down to the heat in their cocks. “Still here, Zane?” Philip’s voice, a low rumble, cut through the din of showering water and boisterous shouts. He pushed off the locker, moving with an athlete’s effortless grace, his eyes, dark and predatory, never leaving Zane. Zane’s jaw tightened. “Waiting for the air to clear. Don’t want to br
It was tentative at first, soft and questioning. Her lips were full, yielding, tasting faintly of mint. He deepened the kiss, a gentle pressure, and she responded, her mouth opening slightly, inviting him in. His tongue, emboldened, swirled against hers, a slow, exploratory dance. A soft moan escaped her throat, a tiny sound that vibrated against his lips, sending shivers down his spine. He pulled her closer, his free hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He could feel the soft swell of her breasts pressing against him, the rapid beat of her heart echoing his own. Adeswua's fingers, initially hesitant, now tangled in his hair, tugging gently. She broke the kiss, breathless, her forehead resting against his. “Wow.” “Yeah,” Cael breathed, his voice thick. His lips brushed her temple. “Wow.” He trailed kisses down her jawline, tasting the salt of her skin, the lingering scent of her perfume. “You taste incredible.” She shivered, a delicious tremor. “You t







