Key Holder

He was the campus king. She was the only heart he couldn't steal. Jace Kingston is untouchable. Star hockey player. Campus legend. A walking trail of broken hearts and whispered warnings. Girls call him King. They say it like a prayer. I say it like a curse. He nearly ran me over with his sports car last semester. He throws money around like it means nothing. He smirks while girls cry over him. And now, thanks to my tutoring job, he's my assignment. One semester. One paper. Five hundred dollars that I desperately need to keep a roof over my head. The rules are simple. He shows up. He does the work. He doesn't flirt with me, charm me, or treat me like another conquest. But Jace Kingston doesn't follow rules. He shows up with bruises he won't explain. He looks at me like I'm something he wants to break. And when he accidentally lets his armor slip, I see something terrifying underneath. A boy afraid of becoming a monster. A boy who flinches at loud voices and keeps a photograph of his mother hidden in his drawer. A boy who might be just as broken as I am. I can't afford to fall for him. I have rent to pay. A future to build. A promise I made to myself when I watched my mother die with nothing but debt and a daughter who couldn't save her. I swore I'd never depend on anyone again. But Jace is everywhere now. In my study sessions. In my thoughts. In the way my pulse stutters when he says my name. And when his demons come hunting, I realize the worst truth of all. He's not just my enemy anymore. He's the one person I might destroy myself to save.

I was a violin prodigy. But to pay my mother’s debts, I was forced to give up everything. That’s when I met the man who would own me: Dante Moretti. He was the king of New York's underworld. The Don of the Moretti family. With a single phone call, fortunes were made. With a single glance, blood was spilled. The world didn't just bend to his will—it broke. And on that day… what he wanted was me. He gave me a five-year contract. A penthouse in a skyscraper overlooking all of New York. More jewels and gowns than I could count. Every night he needed me, I’d put on whatever lacy thing he picked out. We’d have sex. Five years. 999 times. There were moments—his sweat dripping on my forehead, his soft breaths inside me, the way he’d look at me—when I let myself dream he loved me. Then the video dropped. Him. On the street. Kissing another woman. I knew the truth. He was my keeper, not my lover. Everyone laughed. They couldn't wait to see me lose my mind, begging him to keep me. Instead, I turned my back on him. And married another man.

I was an absolute psycho when it came to the person I loved. As it turned out, we were the same kind of people. By day, I was her poker-faced secretary. By night, I would harass and spam her with hundreds of messages using my alternate account. When my feelings were rejected once again through my alt account, I abused my access at work and installed 138 hidden cameras in her house out of spite. Following a month-long observation of Tia from every angle, I discovered that she was planning to imprison her crush. Green with envy, I gave her a suggestion from my alt account. “I’d bought the sturdiest set of chains before. Practically escape-proof. Your crush isn’t going anywhere once he steps into your place. “For sharing the recommendation, can you date me for a month? That’s all I’m asking.” I sent her the link to purchase the chains, only to be met with silence. Just when I thought Tia would never give me the time of day, I woke up to find that I was held captive. The chain around my ankle was the one I’d recommended. Every one of the 138 hidden cameras at Tia’s place featured me on the monitor. I was dumbstruck. What was going on? Was I the one Tia’d planned to imprison? Was I her crush? Amid my surprise, Tia responded to my alt account. “Your chains came in handy, but sorry, I can’t date you. My secretary’s the only one for me.”

Devin King was my first—well, everything. They say you never forget your first. Whoever said that was right because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out of my head or my heart. I foolishly thought my heart wouldn’t miss what it couldn’t see, but I was wrong because I never forgot, not for one moment. You’re not supposed to kiss your best friend. You’re not supposed to give your virginities to one another, either—but we did. We were kids, teenagers, full of hormones and mixed emotions, but it felt right. He was the first boy to kiss me, the first boy to touch me and taste me in a way only a lover would. “Say you want to be mine….” He whispered while I shook in his arms. And I did. And then he wrecked me. After I trusted him and gave myself to him, he disappeared, left me in my , the scent of him still lingering on my skin, the taste of his kiss still fresh on my lips. He left me after the amazing night we shared after we became one another’s and disappeared without a word. Until one day ten years later he pops up like a rash as the newly appointed CEO of our firm. Was I shocked to see him standing in the office after a decade? Yes. Did I almost faint? Hell yes. My heart may have melted a little when he smiled right at me, but he wouldn’t ever know that—because I hated him. But here I am, the VP of an established publication firm standing in the CEO’s office handcuffed to the pompous face. Why are we handcuffed you ask? Well, that's a funny story...

My wife, who had always despised lugging around keys, ditched our modern smart lock for a clunky old-school key version. She even bolted it shut during showers. Every time I returned from work, I'd have to ring her up first. Fed up, I slapped the divorce agreement on the table during a family get-together. Everyone assumed I was drunk and joking. My wife hauled off and cracked me across the face. "Am I asking too much? You promised you'd indulge me forever." I met her glare with icy indifference and let out a bitter scoff. "Aren't I divorcing you and never returning the ultimate indulgence?"

“BEG ME, HUMAN," he growled, his grip on my hair tightening as he pushed harder. “BEG ME TO HAVE YOU.” I tried to say no, to resist, but I burned to have him. The pain was much but I found myself wanting him more. Kaelen was a skilled thief with a decent life—until he stole a cursed spellbook from the Inquisition and accidentally summoned Thrakos, the Demon King. Hoping to bind the demon to his will, the ritual backfired, leaving Kaelen magically and sexually bound to a horny Thrakos instead. Now a pawn in Thrakos’s war against his brother Vaelith, Kaelen gains dangerous powers but loses control. Hunted by Inquisitors, demons, and monsters, he must travel to Vermont to retrieve the Hell-blade—a sacred weapon forged to kill Vaelith. With Sylvia and a shapeshifting succubus at his side, Kaelen faces deadly enemies and the growing darkness within himself. With each climax and surge of power, Kaelen becomes less human and more demon. When the final battle comes, will he fight for freedom—or embrace his new nature and become the Demon King’s ultimate weapon?