How To Bond With Husbands Friends Over Shared Interests?

Two years after the accident, my husband Derek can no longer touch me. His love hasn't changed. But his body has. He says he wants me happy. He just never said happy with someone else. Then his two best friends move in to help. Luca is all sharp suits and sharper smirks. He looks at me like I am already his. Eli is quiet, intense, his touch lingering a heartbeat too long. I swore to honor my vows. But Derek keeps pushing us together. A dinner meant for two becomes four. A goodnight kiss on my forehead from him. Last night, Luca caught me alone in the kitchen. His hand on my waist. His whisper against my ear. He asked if I was shaking from fear or want. I did not push him away. Now my husband has proposed the unthinkable. He wants me to share myself with them. He wants to watch. Three men under one roof. One forbidden wife. And I am terrified of how much I want to say yes. Shared by My Husband's Best Friends is a steamy first-person forbidden romance with a why choose ending. No cheating. My husband asked for it.

“C-Claus, please. I cannot-no more,” My shivering voice failed to stop him and he fastened his pace. “The night is young, little mouse. I’m gonna wreck you and every thought you have of escaping,” he was still holding a grudge against me for trying to run away. “I gave you a choice, be my slave or wife, and here you chose the former. Tell me, Hazel, what am I ought to do if my wife is squirming in the arms of another male, batting her lashes at him, and pressing this,” he smacked across my bare bottom hard and I winced shutting my eyes. “This body of a temptress against him,” I didn’t know my actions would fuel him like this. He was being overly unreasonable. He released inside me enormous times, and still, his length was hard and angry, ready to demolish my weeping core. Our mixed fluids seeped through me to paint my inner thighs but this barbarian refuse to stop.

Harmonica Saint is terrified of being unable to make friends. Coupled with her crippling social anxiety, and her fear of moving away from her family to a new place for college, she is afraid she'd have no friends. But surprisingly on the first day, someone wants to be her friend…. It is just that this person is Rhett Lockhart, littered with tattoos and mysterious beyond compare, Harmony has a bad feeling about this friendship. After all, friends don't give other friends hickeys on their necks. Or do they? "So you thought our friendship was over because of that? Funny baby girl, what makes you think I'll let you go….. Just like that?" He said the words so gently as he always spoke, but it was his eyes that gave him away, those pitch-black eyes were raging with all kinds of intense emotion, each promising to swallow her whole.

Catherine swore she would never fall into his arms. But John Blackwell had money, dangerous lips, and an absurd talent for dismantling her will. When she agreed to live with him, she thought desire would be enough. It wasn’t. The pressure from his family made him choose a “worthy” wife—and left her shattered. But billionaires never quit the game. John came back to claim her body and her love. Everything was fine... until Álvaro, his charmingly toxic friend, decided to make her his next conquest. Now Catherine is trapped between two men who want her with the same ferocity that could destroy her. And the problem is that sometimes temptation tastes better than loyalty.

A romantic comedy whose main focus is Clara and Otávio. There are several characters, each with their importance. Clara goes to live in the Paradise condominium, at the invitation of her best friend, and there she meets Otávio, a young man who, in addition to being a millionaire, is different from anyone she has ever met. She is enchanted by him, but he never had a relationship and never wanted one. A young virgin, and rude who does not know how to relate, does not understand the feelings that encompass him. With many twists and turns, this book will sweep you from the first page to the last!

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.