Cherry Bomb Lyrics Novels & Stories

My ex-husband is getting married. and.... I’m the one hired to plan the wedding. My name is Arabella Paloma Garcia. Five years ago, I was arranged to marry an Italian heir with an angel’s face and the personality of something between a blizzard and a natural disaster: Rafael Vittorio Ricciardi. We spent one year of marriage arguing hard enough to make a lawyer retire early. Then his ex came back, and I left with a divorce bracelet on my finger… and a pair of babies in my belly. Now I live in San Francisco. I own a wedding planning company, I’m a single mom to two demon twins, and I’m very, very proud of the fact that the name Ricciardi doesn’t appear anywhere in my life. Until one email lands in my inbox: Ricciardi–Marino Wedding. Groom: Rafael Vittorio Ricciardi. Bride: Alessandra Marino… the woman who once became the reason I got kicked out of his life. I should’ve said no. But Alessandra is infuriating, and I want to prove I’m over Rafael. So I take the job. But he walks in with a cold stare that sends my stomach straight to the floor. No recognition. A helicopter crash two years ago wiped six years of his life. Including me. Including our marriage. Perfect. I’ll plan my ex-husband’s wedding, send him down the aisle, and go back to my life. The plan goes smoothly. Right up until the wedding day. The bride disappears. The guests are waiting. The media is already rolling. And Rafael closes the bridal suite door… drops a bomb that earns him my fist in his face: “You’re the one who going to walk down the aisle with me.”

He was about to reach me when I stopped him. “Hands behind your head.” “I didn’t imagine this,” he complained. “So do I, but live a little, right?” I darted my tongue out, licking the tip of his head. “Fuck.” *** With one mistake, Princess Carlott lost everything in a blink of an eye. When she was labeled a fraud, a rogue—a pariah, she escaped her dysfunctional past to where no one would judge her. For years, she has built herself as Carly Storm. No more foolish mistakes, just her uneventful, boring life. Until she stumbles with a grumpy irresistible CEO, Rome Langston—well, not exactly, he’s her boss, and one thing she can’t ignore is full of fireworks between them. She isn’t looking for a hookup. When her boss offers her that proves impossible to resist, maybe that’s all she needs—no commitment, just amazing weekends. After all, she was once a rogue. What can go wrong? Well, that’s precisely what happens. Her past doesn’t just stay where it is, and her secrets threaten to come out. *** Rome just takes over the family business. Until the brunette storms into his office, reporting late as his assistant, complicating everything he believes in. He finds himself torn between hiring or firing her. The last thing he wants is a distraction. But maybe, a distraction is all he needs. What can go wrong with a bit of fun? Besides, he’s just human. When he finally realizes they have something real, just right when a bomb blows in his face, it’s anti-climatic. Worse, the woman he’s in love with is only a royal princess.

“She is to be my slave.” He says, dropping the bomb before gripping my chin tightly and forcing me to face him. “Do you have a problem with that, princess?” I try not to flinch from the pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But I fail to hide the obvious hate for him in my eyes. I hate him for killing the love of my life. He chuckles and tightens his hold on my chin. His eyes flash red momentarily before returning to their normal grey and I tremble from fear. He looks at me like he wants to destroy my very soul but I don't drop my eyes as I glower at him spitefully. “Glare at me all you want, little bunny. From now on, I'm your master.” He smirks. I don’t know how I got here. I fell from riches to rags when I became a slave to the ruthless, dangerous, and cruel Lycan king overnight. He killed my fiancé, threatened my father, the Alpha king, and destroyed my life, turning me into a pauper and a slave pet when I was born a princess. He wanted me to be his breeder and give birth to his mini Lycan babies. This man was my worst nightmare and I was afraid of him. But can someone explain to me why when I'm close to him, I feel like my body is about to explode into a thousand pieces? He’s my enemy and I should find an opportunity to kill him to avenge my fiancé but why do all the cells in my body burn for him, wanting him close when I should loathe him and try my best to run away from him?

The night Enzo was made boss of the Moretti family, I gave him my virginity. He was the heir I'd been promised to since before I could speak. We kissed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, tangled in the humid, twilight heat... His rough, urgent hands hurt me, but I didn't pull away. Even the pain felt sacred, a sacrifice I was willing to make for love. Lost in the heat of the moment, he promised me a pair of the most beautiful crystal shoes, so I could dance the opening waltz with him at his coronation ceremony the next day. The first dance is always reserved for the new boss and his future bride. I cried with joy, believing my years of secret pining and patient waiting would finally culminate in a fairytale ending. But I was wrong. So terribly wrong. The next morning, I dragged my aching body out to get his favorite espresso, only to overhear the guys joking as I returned: "So you finally popped the family cherry, huh? How was Vivian on your first night as boss?" Enzo's voice was lazy, mocking. "Face of an angel, body of a devil. She's a hot little viper in bed." The room erupted in sleazy whistles. "So, you really gonna marry her, young boss?" "Are you kidding me?" Enzo scoffed. "Vivian's just a warm-up. Once I get some practice in, I'll go tame the Falcone ice princess. When I get bored, I can always circle back and put a ring on her." I stood frozen in the doorway, my vision blurring, the coffee cup trembling in my hand. Before the world faded to black, I sent a coded message to the Don: "Uncle Romano, for the promotion in three days, get me a transfer. As far away from Enzo as possible."

Bella’s life takes a dark turn when her father’s debt to the Jacksons falls on her shoulders, and the price is paid in blood. Lucas, one of the Jackson brothers, steps in, claiming her as his wife to save her. But before the wedding, Bella finds herself drawn to Damon, Lucas’s enigmatic brother. The ceremony shatters when gunfire erupts, leaving Lucas critically wounded. As he lies in a coma, Bella and Damon grow closer, crossing a line they can’t undo. When Lucas finally wakes up, shaken by his brush with death, he pleads for a chance to make their marriage work. Damon, however, drops the bomb about their affair. Lucas whisks Bella away, determined to salvage what’s left, but secrets and unfinished business loom. Will Damon fight for her, or will Lucas prove he’s the one who can truly win her heart? While traveling through Europe, Lucas discovers Bella is pregnant, with Damon’s child. It’s a gut punch, but he decides he’s got to step up if he’s going to keep her. Just as things start looking up for them, life throws another curveball. A freak accident sends them tumbling down a flight of stairs, Bella breaks her leg, and Lucas fractures his spine, leaving him wheelchair bound. Determined to see him recover, Bella throws herself into rehabilitating him while secretly using her father’s hidden Swiss funds to build a company. Back in America, the family drama kicks into high gear. Bella’s accused of shoving Lucas down the stairs to get rid of him, because, of course, she’d risk breaking her own leg for that. Damon’s met with a version of Bella he doesn’t recognize, convinced she’s only staying with Lucas out of pity.

Sage Draven’s life goes up in flames at her own engagement party—her boyfriend dumps her in front of the entire wolf pack, sneering that she’s “she’s as bland as white rice.” Then her best friend drops the real bomb: she’s been sleeping with him for six months. They’re “true mates.” Blessed by the Moon Goddess. And Sage? Just the pathetic human stepping stone. Humiliated and shattered, she drowns her sorrows in a high-end bar—and falls into bed with a devastatingly handsome stranger. One night of insane chemistry later, she learns his real name: Kael Thorne. Her ex’s boss. The most feared Alpha CEO in the city. And now… the father of her baby. Desperate and hiding her pregnancy, Sage accepts a bizarre job offer from Kael as his executive assistant. Working side by side, the heat between them is impossible to ignore. When Kael discovers the truth, he makes her a shocking proposal: become his fake mate to silence his family’s matchmaking, and he’ll provide for her and the child. It’s just business. Until it isn’t. But Sage carries an even more dangerous secret. She’s not a nobody. She’s the lost heiress to the Moonhaven Luna bloodline—worth billions, hunted by enemies, and tied to a prophecy she never wanted. When her true identity explodes into the open, everyone who rejected her comes crawling back. Her ex. Her former best friend. Rival packs. And the killers who murdered her parents. Now Sage must decide: Is the ruthless Alpha worth the fight? Can this fake bond become something real? And will she rise as the Luna Queen she was born to be—or be destroyed by the wolves at her door?

"Help me tighten this?" Her voice trembles as she turns her bare back to the doorway. Calloused fingers brush her spine – but it’s not her stepmother. It’s Asher Voss, SU’s star quarterback and her new stepbrother, smirking in the mirror， "Next time you mistake me for Mom..." His breath scorches her ear. "...I’ll leave a real mark." To survive the sweltering New York summer before college, Wendy Wu makes a deal with Asher: Act like strangers once school starts. He’ll remain the untouchable quarterback; she’ll be just another exchange student. No eye contact. No acknowledgement. Ever. But when her father’s long hauls and her stepmother’s busy schedule force Asher into babysitting duty, the lines blur: In the kitchen, he catches her weeping over a shelter documentary and lifts her against his sweat-drenched chest. Garage doors rattle open – his grip tightens: "Hold on. Unless you want them to see you like this." At a party, her friend spots a cherry hair tie on his wrist before he drags her into a dark hallway: "You didn’t want to see me?" His whiskey-laced kiss brands her lips. "Yet your eyes undressed me all night." In a restaurant, a rival girl glares through the window. He traps Wendy’s thigh under the table， "Call me ‘brother’ and I’ll save you."  Their secret collapses. Wendy ends it, and he freezes her out in public， "Do I know you?" Until a rain-lashed night when Ahser, drenched and desperate, pins her to the wall， "Don’t tell me you do not regret the breakup" His teeth find her collarbone. "I have to admit it-- I miss you." Can a love forged in stolen touches survive the spotlight? Or will their step-sibling bond shatter them both?

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

“I need this job, Ralph, and I’m willing to do anything to get the job, I mean anything you want.” I told him, walking over to his side and sitting on his table, spreading my legs to give him a good view of my thong. “What makes you think I would fall for this cheap act of yours, what makes you even think I’m interested in your body?” he asks me, his eyes fixed on my cleavage. “I know you like me, Ralph, you can’t take your eyes off my body, I see you drooling when I walk by and I know you want more of me. Besides, how can you not want more when you’ve had a taste of me already. You popped my cherry, remember?” I asked him, putting my legs on his armchair, fixing my eyes on his. “Fine, you win, you got the job, goddamit! Just get out of my office before I do something stupid.” He yelled at me, pulling his hand through his hair in frustration. I smiled excitedly as I jumped down from the table, heading for the exit. “And Victoria, ”he called out to me as I opened his office door. I turned with a raised brow praying in my heart that he doesn’t change his mind. “Be very careful around me, I can be very dangerous when provoked. This emotional blackmail won’t work on me all the time. The next time you try to seduce me again, I won’t hold back, I would screw you right here on the bare table,” he warned me sternly. I know that was meant to sound like a threat, yet I moaned at the thought of him bending me over on his table and screwing my brains out.

Lena Marchetti, twenty-eight, operates on fumes. Her father Marco's cancer treatments have swallowed her savings and the final credits of her degree. She interns at Croft Industries, a glass tower engineered to diminish. She is invisible, sweat gluing her blouse to her spine, until she drops Julian Croft's Montblanc pen. The crack on marble halts breath. She scrabbles on cold stone. When she lifts her chin, Julian crouches beside her. He doesn't retrieve the pen. He waits. His gray eyes hold hers, and heat floods her neck, damp and unwelcome. "You break it, you buy it," he says. "And you can't afford it." He leaves her kneeling. At 3:17 AM, her phone blares: Croft. Office. One hour. She goes. His office smells of leather and ozone. He slides a contract across the desk. Six months. Exclusivity. Her compliance. In exchange, her father's debt dissolves. Her signature slants, barely legible. After her best friend Dani labels Julian a sociopath, Lena sobs in the service elevator. He finds her. "Come with me." He escorts her to a 24-hour diner. He orders cherry pie, slides it across formica. She is wrecked—blotched skin, swollen lids. He studies her as if memorizing the topography of her distress. He teaches her to fence. She lunges, jabs his ribs. He laughs in that rusted, startled way that travels up her calves. She registers: I manufactured that sound. Elara Vance, Julian's former mentor who sold his first deal for a board seat, resurfaces. She invites Lena to lunch, offers employment. "He'll never perceive you as an equal. Work for me. Become a threat." The words burrow. Lena's palms dampen at his touch. While Julian travels, she picks the lock of a hidden room. A library.