Все главы Twisted Temptation : Глава 41 - Глава 50

Scarlett could feel his eyes on her as she strutted across the marble lobby toward the SUV parked outside. Every step in her stilettos was deliberate, each sway of her hips an unspoken challenge.She didn’t care if Ryan Cole was her bodyguard. The man was sex on legs. Six-foot-four, broad as a damn fridge, veins bulging down his muscled forearms as he held the door open for her. His expression was unreadable behind those stormy grey eyes, but she could feel the tension radiating off him like heat from a furnace.As she slid into the backseat, she spread her legs just slightly under her tiny black dress. Enough for him to catch a glimpse of her bare, glistening inner thighs as he climbed in after her.He didn’t even blink. Instead, he pulled out his earpiece and barked orders into it, his deep voice rumbling through her like a vibrator set to low.“Convoy rolling. No stopovers. ETA twenty minutes.”Scarlett licked her lips. God, his voice. She shifted in her seat, feeling her pussy cle

Scarlett’s mind was a hazy blur of lust and humiliation as the SUV pulled up to her penthouse building. Ryan stepped out first, scanning the surroundings before pulling open her door. She climbed out silently, her legs trembling from how desperately her pussy still throbbed for release.He followed her up to the penthouse silently, his towering frame radiating cold, controlled fury. She tried to ignore the heat pooling in her belly as she unlocked the door with shaking fingers.As soon as they stepped inside, she turned to him, her chest heaving. “You’re such an asshole,” she spat, glaring at him with tear-filled eyes. “How dare you leave me like that?”Ryan didn’t respond. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, flicking the lock shut. Then he turned to her, his grey eyes dark with hunger.“Do you think I enjoy this?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft. “Do you think I like having to treat you like a brat just to keep you safe? Do you think I don’t want to fuck you so har

I had always known she was off-limits.From the moment I first walked into Chris’s house as his college buddy three years ago, I noticed her. Emily. Back then she was just his little sister in high school – quiet, bookish, with oversized glasses that slipped down her nose whenever she read. She barely spared me a glance, lost in her world of novels and iced coffees.But people change. And so did she.Now, at twenty-one, she wasn’t a shy teenager anymore. She was a woman – all curves, confidence, and tempting innocence rolled into one. Her hair was longer, cascading in soft waves down her back, and her eyes seemed to glow whenever she smiled.But Chris was still my best friend. The guy who shared his dorm fridge with me, bailed me out after bar fights, and trusted me more than anyone else. Thinking about his sister in the way I did was wrong. Dirty. Vulgar.But it didn’t stop me.That Saturday, Chris invited me to his house for beers and UFC reruns. I arrived early, hoping to beat week

Leah Summers hated the noise. She hated the buzz of beer pong, the sweat-stained boys with their snapbacks turned backward, the half-drunk girls grinding against anyone who had a pulse. She stood in a dark corner of the frat house, nursing a half-filled red solo cup like it was her damn lifeline. College was never supposed to be this loud. “Why the hell did I come here?” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She blamed her roommate, Jenna, who had begged, pleaded, and practically bribed her with brownies to attend the first real party of the semester. And now Jenna was missing—probably getting railed on some bathroom counter. Leah adjusted her oversized hoodie, tugging the sleeves down to her fingers, shielding herself. The fabric was her only armor in a house filled with wolfish stares. That’s when she saw him. Ethan Carter. Every girl on campus had his name between her thighs at least once in her dreams. Captain of the lacrosse team. Alpha as hell. Rich dadd

It was 11:43 PM when Ava Monroe pushed open the glass door to the campus gym, her hoodie pulled tight over her head like she was trying to disappear. The place was mostly empty. Except for the low thump of trap music and the sound of something heavy—too heavy—slamming against rubber matting in the back room. She had no business being here. Not at this hour. Not when she should’ve been holed up in the dorm watching Bridgerton with her vibrator like every other Friday night. But her roommate had brought some guy over, and Ava couldn’t stand the noises. The grunting. The stupid giggles. The way the headboard tapped like it had a heartbeat. So she came here to escape. And then she saw him. Jaxon Reed. Shirtless. Sweaty. Huge. His tattoos glistened under the overhead lights, stretching across ripped muscle and veiny forearms. He had that untouchable bad-boy vibe girls either feared or fantasized about. Or both. Ava froze behind the rows of treadmills, trying not to let her