Clare Chambers Author Small Pleasures Novelas e Histórias

“And you forget I have unfinished business with Tessa.” He said nothing after that, just sat in silence, a man who once thought power could protect him from heartbreak, now realizing it never could. *** The small restaurant where Chloe used to work sat on the edge of an old Tokyo street, wedged between a bookstore and a flower shop. The air inside carried the scent of grilled beef, soy sauce, and steamed rice. Conversations rose and fell beneath the hum of a tired ceiling fan. At the counter, a waitress whispered to another as they cleaned up after the dinner rush.

“The… discomfort… brings me closer to Him.” Clara smiled faintly, unfolding a cloth. She was close now—mere feet away. If she glanced down, she’d see the suspicious shine on the floor, the faint smears where I’d licked but not thoroughly enough. The risk clawed at me, heightening every sensation. My walls clenched involuntarily, a mini-spasm rippling through me. “Indeed,” Clara replied, her back turned as she arranged the items. “We could all use more humility these days.”

Perhaps there was a book that could capture my attention and distract me from the lingering questions. The penthouse office, with its expansive windows overlooking the city, felt like a haven of solitude. The air carried a faint scent of leather and the soft hum of electronics. I perused the shelves, running my fingers along the spines, searching for a title that could transport me to another world, even if only momentarily. As I immersed myself in the world of words, my phone buzzed with a message from Kyler. "Chinese food on the way?" he teased. I grinned, typing my reply. "You know me too well. How's the meeting going?"

".....Pam.....Pam?!" Beth repeated a little more loudly, doing her best to jar her friend from her descent into self-pleasure. "I said the pretzel is really tasty, you should try one." Pam quickly regained focus on her surroundings, and looked up to see Ron leaning down closer, holding the snack out, a coating of thick cheese threatening to break free from the undersized cigar-shaped pretzel. His bulbous cockhead was threatening to slip past the hem of his trunks. If she leaned up on the edge of the pool and just past the offered pretzel, she could plant a loving kiss across his tempting manhood. Just as quickly as she embraced this decadent image, she pushed it from her mind and opened her

His emotions tangled into a knot, and when he thought about the past, panic crawled up his spine. After all, Madeline had stood by him through his darkest days. … When Madeline came in to get a glass of water, she noticed something had changed in the living room. Flower petals were scattered across the floor, and a candlelit dinner for two sat waiting on the table. The sight felt almost laughable. She didn't need grand gestures anymore. What was the point of putting on a show like this? Madeline's brows furrowed. Then, she raised a hand to cover her mouth and nose.

“Shut up.” The canteen buzzed with chatter, trays clattering, the smell of fried food thick in the air. We found a table tucked away in the corner, out of sight from most of the crowd. Clara sat down quickly, folding her arms over her chest like she could somehow hide the aftershocks still written all over her body. I leaned across the table, lowering my voice. “Still trembling?” She shot me a look that could melt steel. “If you don’t behave, I swear—”

I looked up to see Clara approaching, carrying a silver tray with a covered plate and a glass of lemon water. “I thought you might want to eat here,” she said gently, setting the tray on the small round table beside me. “It’s quieter.” “Thank you, Clara,” I replied with a small smile, lifting the cover to reveal grilled chicken, vegetables, and rice—neatly arranged, of course. Always perfect. She hesitated, wiping her hands on her apron. I looked at her carefully. Clara was young—maybe a few years older than me—with soft brown eyes and a demeanor that never seemed forced.

Not with him sitting there. "It’s very delicious," Liam chimed in with that stupid warm tone of his. "I love it. Especially the pasta. You always go above and beyond, Chloe." Of course. Mr. Manners. Always eager to please. My fork paused mid-air, and I looked up at him slowly. He was smiling. Talking like we weren't on some bed yesterday, moaning like a sinner and clutching my shoulders like his life depended on it. How was he so natural all of a sudden? What a great actor. Give him an Oscar. And me? I don't know. I was weird. It feels so awkward being with him. Doesn't he feel that too? Shouldn't he leave?

Most of his assignments were for visiting celebrities and a lot of them he'd found to be very interesting. "He's got a couple he wants to run by me. One of them might even interest you. Phillip Hansen, the author of A Unique Lifestyle, is speaking at Dorchester House Thursday night and - " He was interrupted by her squeal. "You're kidding. Are you going to be doing that?" He frowned. "Yeah. Why?"

The scene was way too sexy and X-rated. She quickly closed her eyes and then closed the door. It was not a peaceful night. The next morning, Chloe was busy making breakfast ready at the dining table. She took a deep breath when she saw the door of Claire's room open. "Wow, meat dumpling, I like it." Claire looked like nothing had happened. She sat down directly on a chair, simply picked up a dumpling, and stuffed it into her mouth. Chloe crossed her arms, "Is there