บททั้งหมดของ SIN SO SWEET : บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

We usually had game night at Alex's apartment on Friday after the end of mid-semester exams. We were four: me, Alex, Jamie, and Riley.Everyone took turns asking ridiculous questions and doing filthy dares. It was Alex's turn to question Jamie. “Truth or Dare, Mon Cherie?” Alex asked."Truth," Jamie smirked. She was the bold one, the one who always said things without giving a fuck what happens.Alex grinned. "Okay, Jamie... have you ever had a fantasy where you fucked more than one person in this group at the same time?”” No-one said a word at first, then we burst out laughing. Jamie was blushing like a high school babe. "How about you dare me to prove it instead?” she shot back, teasing.Riley sat up. "Oh, come on, Jamie. Don't chicken out now. Truth or dare?"Jamie bit her lip, looking around the group. Alex adjusted nervously in his seat, his gaze fixed on her.I could see the wicked intent in Riley's eyes as Jamie replied, "Fine. I chose Dare."Riley grinned like an evil witch.

Emma was coming home from a late gym session. She was wearing a sports bra and tight leggings damp with her sweat, hair packed in a messy ponytail, earbuds still in. The blackout hit at 8:47 p.m., right as Emma stepped into the elevator on the lobby level of the building where she lives. The doors were closing when a hand shot between them. A dude in his early thirties slipped in just in time. He wore a dark suit rumpled from a long day at work. His hazel eyes flicked over her once and appreciative before he nodded politely and faced forward. She was going to floor 14. He pressed the buttons. 18.The elevator started moving upward. Then, without warning, the lights cut out. The car stopped suddenly between floors with a metallic groan. Emergency lights came on, a dim red glow that made everything feel intimate. “Shit,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. There is no signal.Emma removed her earbuds. “Great. Just what I needed.”They stood in silence for a minute, there wasn't an

My husband David and I decided to do this fancy spa weekend thing. You know, like one of those, let's reconnect” packages with couples and all that.Unlike him, he was excited about it, thought it’d be romantic. So we got there in the evening after dropping the kids at my mom's. We checked in, and this nice receptionist said I could go first for my individual session while he waited in their little lounge area right next to the treatment room. I got in, the walls were really thin, like I could hear my husband clear his throat, flip pages in some boring car magazine he was given, and every time he took a sip of his whiskey the ice clinked loud and clear. It was wild how close he was.I'd been texting this massage therapist, Alex, for weeks, nothing crazy at first; just flirty comments after my regular appointments, but it definitely got heated up.Alex is tall, covered in tattoos, he has this deep voice that make my knees weak, and also fucking built, like her had worked in a gym bef

I just turned twenty-one. I'm a model fresh off regional castings. I've done a few magazine editorials and one viral swimwear campaign that blew up on Instagram that caught the attention of international agencies.My booker calls it “the breakout.” I call it barely scraping by. The rent in this city eats half my bookings, and I'm still paying off the lighting equipment I bought to shoot my own content.Then Victor Lang called. Direct line—he didn't use his assistant or any agent middleman. A British accent that makes your spine straighten even when you're alone on your couch.“Miss Harlow,” he said. “I've reviewed your portfolio. I'd like to discuss an exclusive sponsorship. Dinner tomorrow by eight, at the Peninsula. Wear a black dress and no patterns.”I didn’t ask how he got my number. I just said yes.By eight, I'm in the suite he reserved for the “meeting.” Wearing a short black silk slip dress, backless and clinging to every curve. No bra. Strappy heels that added to my height.

Sharon needed to blow off steam after another week of her charm not working on Ethan. She told her husband she was going out with “the girls from work” for drinks. It was believable and harmless.Instead, she went alone downtown to a club she had never been to before. The lights were low, bass thumping at a corner, bodies packed tight on the dance floor. It was so lousy and unusual.She wore a dress she saved for nights she wanted to look like a seductress. It was black, backless, the hem of it barely above mid thigh, the neckline so deep that any move she made revealed her luscious boobs. She didn't wear a bra. Red lipstick on and her long hair loose and wild.She felt someone watching her, she turned and locked eyes with her Boss Ethan. He was seated at a bar, in dark jeans and a black button-down rolled at the sleeves, looking nothing like the strict VP who ruled her weekdays. He sat alone, drinking champagne, and staring at her like he had been waiting.She saw the surprise on hi