Cold Sweat Book Novels & Stories

What’s happening to me, this can’t just be the coffee or the late hour, my body’s reacting like I’ve never felt before, every nerve ending lighting up, craving touch in ways that scare me but pull me under anyway, I need to fight this, stay in control, but god it feels so intense, like I could burst if I don’t get some relief soon. My hand trembled slightly as I set the highlighter down, fingers brushing against the edge of my notebook, and I shifted in the armchair again, the cushion pressing up against my ass in a way that made me hyperaware of how damp I was getting, sweat beading at the small of my back under my dress.

I can only ride it, each wave hotter and harder than the last. My temperature spikes. Sweat beads on my chest and runs down my sides, but the air in the apartment is freezing cold. I can see my breath, little ghosts of vapor curling in the air each time I manage to suck in a gasp. The sweat doesn’t cool me—it just slides over my skin and soaks into the waistband of my underwear, pooling under my back when I finally collapse onto the bathroom floor.

Damn he should’ve hide it! His face was then filled with cold sweats and he let out an awkward smile and it turned into a guilty one. Yenn just glanced at him and smiled, he shook his head and continue to read something on the notebook. “I didn’t know you use something like this” “I’m sorry” He automatically replied and wet his lips. He was really sweating so hard that he would feel dehydrated after this moment. Yenn just looked at him innocently then flipped another page. “Is there something in this book? Why are you acting so strange?”

Hearing Amelia's question, Catherine glanced at her and noticed that she was drenched in sweat. "I don't like sweating. It's sticky and uncomfortable," Catherine explained, further confusing Amelia. "Not like sweating? Kathy, can you control sweating?" Catherine calmly nodded. "As long as it's not too intense exercise, calming your mind and adjusting your breathing can help control it." Amelia listened to Catherine with a puzzled expression on her face. "Really? Then teach me, I don't want to sweat either." One of the boys who was running with them overheard their conversation and sneered. "Hmph, Amelia, do you really believe such lies? Sweating is instinctive, unless you don't have pores. S

Please tell me it’s some stupid frat nickname they got in college and it’s just an inside joke. He doesn’t reply, just turns his head and looks back towards the house, slowly sliding his hands in his pockets. Right, all the useless true crime info i’ve collected over the years really needs to come in handy right now. What was that one book I read? About listening to your fear and it’s never wrong. I mean, the premise is great Mr Clever Author, but in practice, what if you're being led by your three year sex dry spell hmmm? What then?

Just me and my best friend trapped in the crazy heat. Sweat poured down my body in heavy streams. It ran over my chest. Dripped off my nipples. Slid between my legs and made my balls feel wet and heavy. My cock rested thick on my thigh. It was not soft anymore. The heat made it swell slow and steady. The head felt sensitive and shiny with a mix of sweat and pre-cum leaking out. I tried to ignore it but my dick kept twitching every time I breathed.

It was cold, and I mean cold is just one of those things it is not even cold in terms of something that will make you shiver, know what I mean? It is just cold to a degree where it is just one of those things where it is just seeping into your bones so when you breathe in, it is like breathing in a handful of glass. I woke up with cold sweats or at least professed to have done just that. At any rate, I certainly woke up with colds unrelated to the temperature of the room.

Xavier 's pov I was sitting in my office library engrossed in my work . Different cases require different references to various clauses and sectons of warewolf penal codes . My library consists of multiple books ranging from legislatures,civil law books to historic fictions. You name a book at it will be here in my library. I got up from my seat and searched through the multiple shelfes looking for the red covered book which has a case similar to the present one at my hand.

I hated it. A sigh danced out my lips as I rubbed my temples before returning to my book. It was an old self-help book about emotional control, and though it was meant for people with anger issues and destructive anxiety, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to apply some of the principles to myself. I didn't want to accidentally freeze my pillow at four in the morning after waking from a vivid dream... again. My fingers itched as I flipped another page. A chill shot through my bones. I ignored it hoping it would simmer and die from the lack of attention.

Only he knew the dread I had been through and the suffering of this upcoming marriage. A sense of foreboding descended upon me, causing my body to react in a rather peculiar manner. Beads of sweat began to form on my forehead, each one breaking free and cascading down my face, as if in sync with the ominous atmosphere surrounding me. The coolness of those sweat droplets on my skin seemed to intensify the already existing chill that was gradually creeping down my spine. It was almost as if my body had become a battleground, caught between the prickling sensations of dread and the uncomfortably cold shivers that coursed through me.