How Does The Sugaring-Off Party End?

"You need to shut up baby. Let me take care of your needs. Can you do that for me?" He unzipped my dress, as it falls freely down to the floor. ***** The lifestyle is not for everyone. That was the first warning that she got from the woman.  She's in need of cash. Her parents suddenly got a divorce. Leaving her to struggle with her financial education alone.  She never imagined at the end of her college years to be like this. Gone was the lifestyle that she used to have. The best friends, and even the boyfriend. She jumped at the first chance to be a sugar baby. Because deep down she knew that she needed the money, that it would be over in a year. Then she can find a job and move on with her life.  ***** He never needed a girlfriend. They're always too needy for his time. And time was the one thing that he treasured.  He's a workaholic. He likes the arrangement of a sugar baby where he can pay a sum of money for a companion of a young attractive woman.  His friend actually suggested the idea. With the last sugar baby being too attached to him. It's time for him to find another one. A less demanding one. ***** Will he get what he paid for? *Warning! R-Rated for 18+ due to strong, explicit language and sexual content*.

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.

Before the world turned to ice, her family came knocking, ready to negotiate the terms of our marriage. They wanted more than commitment. They wanted three million dollars and three luxury homes. My parents shut them down immediately. It was ridiculous. Then, the storm hit. The blizzard sealed us inside the house. With numbers on their side and no mercy to spare, her family took control of everything. The food. The heat. Our chances. When we fought back, we lost. They dragged us outside and left us in the snow. We froze. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back to before it all began.

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

When a sudden 10-hour flight delay leaves Rosie scrambling for a hotel, she and Carter find themselves at the same place at the same time. With only one room available, Carter gives it up for Rosie. As the night unfolds, their chance encounter turns into something more. Sharing a flight to New York, Carter upgrades Rosie to business class. Amidst casual conversation, Rosie reveals her journey to interview at SweetHarvest Delights. Carter conceals his identity, presenting himself as a simple engineer to avoid any professional favoritism. Rosie, skeptical but accepting, lands the job at SweetHarvest Delights. On her first day, the truth unravels—Carter's deception exposed. Hurt and betrayed, Rosie confronts Carter, setting the stage for a tense confrontation. Carter, realizing the gravity of his mistake, grovels in an earnest attempt to salvage their connection. Carter pours his regrets and vulnerabilities, yet the question looms large: Can Rosie forgive a well-intentioned deception that blurred the lines between truth and lies? Will this unexpected connection lead to a sweet love story? Dive into the pages, where trust is tested, hearts are laid bare, and Carter's sincere grovel sets the stage for a resolution that remains tantalizingly uncertain.

He's sugar. She's spice. Together, they will never work. She has done the impossible. Working for the country's most difficult boss for seven years. Rosaline Carter's work life is fueled by her love for spicy food, a fat paycheck, and dreams of sending her brother to Harvard. She's sworn off love completely. Until that fateful monday morning. "I need a fiancée, Miss Carter. And I need one who at least knows my favourite brand of coffee." A contract marriage to her boss, the impossible and difficult Alaric Sylvester? Rosaline never even saw him as a man to begin with. But for five billion dollars? She would propose to Mr Ice king and plan the wedding alone. Alaric Sylvester hates his assistant. With her sensible shoes, horn rimmed glasses, and perfectly polite way of speaking, she never fails to get on his nerves. She's the last person he wants for a wife, or even a romantic figure. Yet she's the best option. No one knows his schedule by heart, or his love for sweets. It's just three years. And he'll never see her again. With his inheritance on the line, the board of directors hounding him for being too antisocial, and rumours starting to stir...he will do anything to save his reputation. Including marrying his cold hearted assistant. And with her hatred for sweets, he's sure he'll never like her. It's only a marriage agreement. The terms were simple. But simple doesn't always equal easy. And the human heart is a traitorous beast.