Bedroom Voice

On the day my boyfriend gets engaged, I'm locked in the bedroom even though I'm supposed to be with him. By the time I make it to the venue, I see him passionately kissing his first love. When I confront him, he scoffs. "Kirsty’s a wealthy heiress who can help with my career. Isn't being my girlfriend enough for you?" With my answer loud and clear, I turn and call home. "Mom, Dad—about that arranged marriage you mentioned... I'm in." The day he marries Kirsty Bainbridge is also the day I marry my alliance partner. And the moment he sees me in a wedding dress, he completely loses his composure.

That night, it all crashed. Three years. The moment she pulled open that particular bedside drawer in his bedroom and saw those papers, the truth sliced her deeper than any blade. It was never her. Has never been. The divorce he handed her felt like the final betrayal, a signature sealing years of lies. And she left with nothing but her pride vowing never to turn back. But, a year later, fate deals a cruel twist when they clash over the same billion-dollar deal only for the investor to demand, 'Work together or walk away'. Now, bound by a forced partnership, he regrets letting her go while she wonders if this partnership will heal her heart or break it all over again.

He was supposed to be a one-night stand. Now I’m holding a gun to his head and I still want to kiss him. I’m a hitman. Flirty, unhinged, and hired to kill the cold, powerful mafia boss I’ve been obsessed with for months. But the moment I see him again, shirtless and smug, everything falls apart. Instead of pulling the trigger, I give him a warning. Now we’re hunting down the person who ordered the hit while trying to keep our hands off each other. He’s dangerous. I’m worse. And between the bullets, betrayals, and bedroom threats… I still don’t know if I want to kiss him or kill him.

As beautiful and desirable as Jenna is, she cannot be my mate. I break eye contact and turn to dismiss the crowd, determined to keep my distance from Jenna. As the crowds disperse, I begin to move towards the building, abandoned thousands of years ago by humans, a place that has become home. A shadow falls into step beside me, and I turn to regard them. It's my beta. Years older and more experienced, the beta had taught me all that I had needed to know after my father had been brutally killed in war. Even though he's my beta, I look up to him more than I'd care to admit. “The last thing I expected today was the announcement of a feast. I didn't know we had something to celebrate.” “It will be a small one,” I say, after I quickly turn. I am almost in my bedroom now, I have never been a prude, and I don't care that I am in the company of another, even though there's not a stitch of clothing on me. I move towards my wardrobe to make a selection, noting the dwindling collection in my closet. I really need to learn to shrug off my clothes before I turn, like the others do. “What shall we celebrate?” He asks, his eyes filled with curiosity. “The announcement of my mate,” I say, avoiding the wise eyes of my beta, a little afraid that if I were to make eye contact, he'd read the truth in them. “Your mate? Have you found her?” He asks, his voice tinged with excitement. “No.” I growl. I hate that I have to lie to my beta about this. But it's for the best. I am doing this for the pack. “Tonight, I, chose Violet as my mate

My abrasive next-door neighbor confronts me on the street, accusing me of spying on her with my telescope. I wish I'd known I could have been watching her in her bedroom; I despise squandered opportunities. But I'm not going to let this opportunity pass me by. Her curves scream for me to touch them. I'll show her my telescope, no problem. She turns out to be working for my ex and will do everything she can to keep me from getting what is rightfully mine. She can try everything she wants, but I always take what I want. And I want her right now.

Fiorella Santelli is an 18-year-old virgin and innocent; she grew up in an Italian Mafia family, protected by her father Giuseppe Santelli, the most powerful Don; he kept Fiorella abroad to prevent any Capo from setting his eyes on her. Everything changed with the new boss of the Italian Mafia, Lorenzo Razzo, who has created his reputation of being fearsome and violent, whose family runs most of the casinos. He is the playboy, and no woman can resist him. When he first laid his eyes on Fiorella, he becomes obsessed with her and will do anything to make her his, including abducting her and locking her up in his bedroom forever. By the way, he is not the only man who wants her... (Italian Mafia 2/ she's still mine, now available here at Goodnovel)

"Galen Forsythe believes the traditions and tenets of academia to be an almost sacred trust. So when the outwardly staid professor is hopelessly attracted to a brilliant graduate student, he fights against it for three long years.Though she’s submissive in the bedroom, Lydia is a determined woman, who has been in love with Galen from day one. After her graduation, she convinces him to give their relationship a try. Between handcuffs, silk scarves, and mind-blowing sex, she hopes to convince him to give her his heart.When an ancient demon targets Lydia, Galen is the only one who can save her, and only if he lets go of his doubts and gives himself over to love--mind, body, and soul.Teach Me is created by Cindy Spencer Pape, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author."

"Stop staring at me like that," nakatiim ang bagang na sabi ni Jass. "Hindi ako interesado sa 'yo at alam kong pati ikaw ay ayaw rin sa kasal na ito. So why don't we make an agreement about this fucking arranged marriage?" "No sharing of bedroom, no sex, no conversation at higit sa lahat walang pakialamanan sa isa't isa. We'll only pretend like we're sweet in front of our parents kapag nandiyan sila. Pero 'pag tayong dalawa lang, parang hindi natin kilala ang isa't isa. What about that? Hmm?" Tumango ako. "T-That's a good idea." But one time, nakita niya akong may kausap sa phone. Bakit bigla siyang nagalit sa akin?

Life was perfect for Alison Jade Jorgensen, an eighteen-year-old who had everything she could ever ask for - wealth, beauty, and attention. As the only child of a wealthy family, she was the apple of everyone's eye. Despite her privileged life, Alison remained an innocent girl, unaware of the harsh realities of the world. But everything changed when her beloved grandfather passed away a month before summer. Grief-stricken, Alison isolated herself behind the walls of her bedroom, unable to cope with the loss. Enter Jared Thompson, a twenty-five-year-old man who lived for nothing but pleasure. When Alison finally ventures out into the world, Jared becomes her distraction from the pain of her grandfather's passing. But what if Jared ends up causing more damage to Alison than she has already suffered? What if he becomes the source of her destruction?

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”