Cooler Than Me Lyrics Novels & Stories

At my coming-of-age party, Dad told me to choose one of the three boys I had grown up with to marry into the family. The first to step back was my childhood friend, the boy who had grown up with me in the orphanage. The second was the bodyguard’s son, who had once taken three knife wounds for me. He shook his head without hesitation. As for the man I was supposed to marry through a family alliance, the same man who had held me just yesterday and promised he would never marry anyone but me, he looked at me with open ridicule. “Mr. Deen, isn’t this a bit too much? Everyone knows Emma was kidnapped for more than ten years. Those kidnappers were insane. Who knows what they might’ve done? I’m not about to marry damaged goods. If you’re really serious about an alliance, why not marry your other daughter, Isabella, to me instead? Someone like Emma is only suited for men who live in the shadows.” He glanced around the room, then pulled a boy from the corner—a quiet young man who had been standing there with his head lowered. Together with the other two, he laughed as they shoved me straight into the boy’s arms. “What a perfect match!” one of them jeered. “The used goods and a bastard son!” What was supposed to be a grand ceremony to choose my husband turned into a public humiliation for me alone. Later, they told me the reason they had done it was all part of a little game with Isabella. “As long as Bella is happy, we can honor our promises to you afterward.” They all assumed I would do what I had always done before—swallow the humiliation and shamelessly continue following them around. However, this time, I didn’t want to humiliate myself anymore, because I was indeed getting married, and the groom was the very man they pushed into my arms earlier that night. As for Isabella and their little game, I wasn’t playing along anymore.

David, my fiancé and the man I loved, threw me out like trash seven days before the wedding. He chose his pregnant mistress, who was none other than her Ex. "She's carrying my child, Rose. I have to take responsibility." Rejected and betrayed right in front of the triumphant, smiling homewrecker, I fled to a nightclub to drown my sorrows. However, I accidentally crashed into a man with a dangerously dominant aura. A mysterious figure with an intoxicating scent awakened a primal longing within me. One accidental kiss didn't just ignite sparks in my body. It awoke something that had never stirred before, not even with David. But that mysterious scent succeeded, making me want to submit to the heat and strength of his powerful body. "Alpha... can you kiss me again?"

Trigger warning: Matured content. Dark romance! ***** ~Jasper Morgan~ I hate him because he hates me. He's my first love, my bully. Yet, when his hatred turns into a burning obsession, I crave it, unable to live without it. Rhys' loathing has become my addiction, driving me to corrupt him, to claim him as my own. But what if he's just a beautiful nightmare? I can't let him go. ~Rhys Volkov~ I've never been drawn to men, never entertained the thought. Jasper Morgan was just a pawn in my vendetta against his father, who destroyed my life. I wanted to break him, shatter his perfection. But Jasper's twisted hate awakened something within me. I craved his scorn, his resentment. I wanted more than just revenge; I wanted him. His body, mind, and soul. He crossed the line. Now, nothing will stop me from possessing him. ******

“You can call me when you’re lonely. I’ll be your temporary fix.” Those were the words that he said to me and it was plain simple, he wanted nothing but sex and I wanted nothing more than too. I was the kind of girl who was too scared of falling in love again because I feel like there is something more in life than being mournful over a guy who never actually gave a hell. I deserve something more than pain and misery over a stupid heartbreak. Since then, I got too scared of commitment that I no longer wanted to be in one. I wanted fun and I wanted to feel like I am alive again. He was the kind of guy who was too busy for permanent relationships. The superstar that all women wanted to bang with. The kind of guy who would have any girls kneel down in front of him because well, he is that kind of guy. He was a guy with a hectic schedule, sold out world tours, drinking champagne in private jets, holding a mic in one hand and conquering all over the world on the other. Maybe I needed someone to show me how to live again and he needed someone to show him how to love.

I had once been the woman Theo Bennett would have risked his life to marry. For six years after our wedding, he treated me like his entire world. He even had a matching tattoo carved into his lower abdomen, identical to mine, as proof of his devotion. But in the seventh year, he coldly demanded that I make a full-body model for his kept woman. "Catherine," he said, his voice sharp with contempt, "this is the price you pay for lying to me about being my savior. You know my tastes better than anyone. Make sure you replicate Hannah's body temperature. She's pregnant. I don't want to hurt her." Hannah Moore lay limp in Theo's arms, laughing so hard her shoulders shook. "How pathetic, Catherine," she mocked. "I'm pregnant, so I can't be with Theo. And yet he'd rather order a model of me than lay a finger on you. Once this one wears out, I guess I'll have to trouble you to make a few more copies of me." Only then did I understand. Theo had mistaken Hannah for the woman who once saved his life. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I didn't argue. I simply turned around and dialed Sebastian's number. "Sebastian," I said calmly, "Theo is having an affair. I want a divorce."

"What am I to you? A trash picker?" I asked him sarcastically, looking at him from head to toe in disdain. "Lauren." he growled, clenching his fists tightly, glaring at me in disbelief. "Yeah, I know this is my name. You don't need to remind me, and please don't pop up in front of me like an unwanted ad in the middle of an interesting scene. You irritate me the most in this way." I scolded him, still with an ugly expression in disgust on my face. "So, now I disgust you, huh? Why didn't you disgust before when I." "Because I was a fool back then. I assumed a filthy rock as a gem and paid a heavy price for that." Before he could complete his sentence, I interrupted him, scolding him in a loud voice. His already widened angry eyes widened more in shock this time. I took a step forward while locking my gaze with him. "A scum like you who used me when he needed me and then slapped the divorce paper doesn't deserve even a glance from me, Gabriel. Never bother me again, or else what I will do to you, you can't even think about that." "Hey, babe. Why are you here?" I beamed when I heard his magnetic voice calling me from behind. I immediately moved towards him when Gabriel held my wrist. "You are making a mistake, Lauren," he warned me in a stiff voice. I yanked my hand from his grip and threw a disgusting gaze on him before walking towards the boy who treated me like a treasure. Gabriel’s devotion to his first love made me realize that loving myself is the only thing that can make me happy forever. I grabbed Vincent's arm with a beaming smile.

“You’re mine, June.” “I’m not yours, Mr. Macaulay.” “You’re mine. Mine alone. Every inch of you belongs to me. I will not have another man touch you, ever,” he growls through gritted teeth. “I’m not yours. Not until you claim me,” I fire back. “Until then, I’m just a woman who warms your bed… just like I’ll warm other men’s beds too.” His pupils dilate as his grip tightens around my arm. “Do not test me, June,” he says, voice low and deadly. “I swear on my life, any man who so much as lays a hand on you… I’ll rip his fingers off and feed them to my dogs.” _________________ June Fontaine had always loved her boyfriend too deeply, giving him her heart even when it tore her apart. For three years, she lived in the shadow of his ex, a relationship that slowly swallowed her. Until one night changed everything, and she broke up with him. Fueled by heartbreak and the bitter sight of her ex moving on like she never mattered, June made a dangerous, impulsive choice that threw her into the arms of a stranger she could not forget—even after she ran from him. Two weeks later, she saw the stranger again—now richer and more powerful than she could have imagined. In a city like Las Vegas, men like him do not chase. They own. And he wants her. Obsession becomes possession. Desire becomes dangerous. He cannot let her go. She cannot stay away. While he falls for her in a way that feels almost forbidden, he holds back, haunted by a past that refuses to let him claim her. But she refuses to be hidden. She refuses to be just another secret in a powerful man’s world.

It's my third day of being a ghost, and I feel like I'm going to starve to death again. The underworld messenger takes pity on me because I'm a child and secretly tells me that people like me, who suffered grievances and died with resentment, have to stay by the sides of the people who loved us most in life. Then, we survive on their "guilt". I lower my head and narrow my eyes. I choke up and say, "You might as well just leave me to starve." My mother hated me to the core. Why would she ever be guilty over my death?

He looked at me, his piercing eyes cold and sharp. “What do you want?” he asked, his tone irritated. “Cat got your tongue?” Fear gripped me, but I couldn’t back down. Not when proving my love was on the line. My hands trembled, but I managed to speak. “Hunter Steele...” I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “Will you... will you marry me?” His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. “What?” ANYA BLAKE ____________________________________ I can’t remember the last time I willingly let a woman get so close. To me, they were a necessary evil....useful when needed, and avoided afterward. But when a young woman, trembling yet determined, stepped in front of me and asked the most ridiculous question I’d ever been asked, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: a spark. And when I kissed her, it awakened something in me—a feeling I hadn’t known existed. Her innocence intrigued me and I wanted to be the one to claim her, to mold her......to make her mine. HUNTER STEELE

I have a secret. Every year on my birthday, I'm taken to the blood donation room and made to give 400cc of blood. All because my mom once told me that the blood running through my veins belongs to a rapist. This is the only way I can wash away my original sin. Because of those words, at eighteen years old and weighing less than 80 pounds, I found myself lying on that donation chair once again. But the second I stepped out of the donation room, a document came flying at my face. I looked up in shock and met my mother's icy stare: "Sign it, and get the hell out of my house." It was a legal notice cutting all ties with me. I stood there frozen, cold down to my bones. Mom—didn't you say that once I'd donated blood eighteen times, I'd finally be your clean child?