Crochet Passion Twists Novels & Stories

He reached as if to touch her forehead, and she pulled back. “You’re lying.” “If you don’t believe me, that’s your problem.” She lifted her glass again, but Andres took it from her. “Hey!” He set the flute on the far side of the bench. “Your throat will hurt more if you drink champagne. It’s sweet.” “I like sweet.” Andres sat beside her, sprawling so that she felt trapped between his legs. “If you like sweet… then try me.” His lips hovered close to her ear. Sparks ignited, and if he didn’t move away soon, the fire inside her would consume her.

I blurted. "OK. Do you have flour; yeast, nutmeg, sugar..." I listed the ingredients to her while she was replying with yes. After I'd explained how to do it to her, "am I free to go?" I asked, yawning. "No, please stay on line till I'm through with it. Please" She begged while I grumbled. "I'll buy you bars of chocolate and candies" She bribed me while I reluctantly agreed. It wasn't good someone should have a weakness, she knew my weakness was chocolate.

God, I have married a workaholic; I don’t think I will ever forgive myself for that. I engross myself in the hook of my dress; I make this my only mission but am rebuffed the whole time. I feel a hand against my bare skin; I raise my hand to look at the mirror. It’s Brian. He is still on the phone, I can tell, as two earbuds are still in his ear. I keep my eyes on the mirror, on him while he hooks up my dress. I mouth him thanks and am about to go away from him, but he stops me by my arms, our eyes are locked in the mirror, and slowly he lowers himself to my shoulder and places a kiss before sucking between my shoulder and throat while talking on the phone.

Amelia's POV "Come on, go back into the changing to check it out", Mirabel nudged at me and I gave her an awkward smile. "Okay", I said before making my way into the changing room. I came back outside after wearing the cloth Mirabel has asked me to wear as sample. The cloth was really cut low on the neck part. It has a crossing style in front which slanted around the upper part of my chest and tied in a beautiful way around the left side of my hip.

This necklace won’t fall from her neck easily unless a blade were around her neck that cut the lace. Water starts to drip from my eyes, this is my fault. If only I didn't tell her that thing yesterday then she's still here. I loved her for who she is, my love for her ever since we are still young was hidden until I started to hate her but no matter how I hate my love wins. I already love her before I found out that she is my mate, every word came from my mouth yesterday I wanted to take them back but I don't want her to become my mate. This is my fault and mom, if only she didn't criticize her telling me those hatred words then this won't happen, look what happened mom I lose my everything,

My brows furrow in confusion, nevertheless, I keep my words to myself. “Hold this, twist it around your wrist and don’t let it go,” he commands with pure dominance. I’m not used to his sudden changes of tone but surprisingly, it turns me on. “It’s a DIY, but it will work. I’m not sure I can actually use this with you,” he adds. Did he use this with someone else? I feel a pang in my chest. I twist the tassel around my wrist. I slightly pull and hold on to it—it works and doesn’t hurt. It’s made of two sets of polyester ropes braided together. I blow a few deep breaths to normalize my frantic heartbeat when the threads dangle and caress my skin.

She opened her eyes to see him looking at her with pure passion. That was her man. They had the same wavelength of energy, and she liked it so much. She felt like she was free-falling but she was not because he was holding her neck down. “Damn it, woman! I’m pussy whipped by you, and I don’t want to be cured,” he said fervently, She closed her eyes in pleasure. “I don’t want you to be cured, either. He growled, and then bunched the t-shirt in his hands, without warning, he pulled his sweats down, releasing his hard dick. Clarissa licked her lips as she looked at it.

Except now it was the kind of silence that pressed on your chest until you could barely draw a breath. I stood there for a long time, staring at nothing. Then my body moved on its own. I crouched down and started picking up the lilies, one by one. Some of the petals had been crushed underfoot; others were still perfect, soft and white. I tried fitting them back into the bouquet, but the stems kept sliding through my fingers. “Stop it,” I whispered to myself. But I didn’t. I kept trying to fix it, even though it was ruined.

I wanted to be her when I was younger, and even when I got older, I found myself wishing I could have half her poise. I find her old field hockey stick, her soccer uniform, the beading kit she used to make dozens of necklaces and bracelets for her friends, her CDs, her journals. I have to fight the urge to sit on her bed and read all her inner teenage angst. Instead, I find a better hiding place for them at the top of her closet. As I'm rooting around up there, I find a box I don't recognize and bring it down. Inside is a treasure trove of objects she shouldn't have—a weed pipe, matches, a lighter, notes from boys, a phone she must've snuck into the house. Evidence of her rebellious phase wh

"She has the most beautiful heart I have ever encountered, she is intelligent and I love her drive, she is a lovely person and when I first met her I knew she was my perfect match." Blushing, Isabella pushed him gently for fun. "You're making me sound like a saint." Taking her hand, Davis murmured, "It's true." Mary sighed softly. "You two are exactly matched for each another." Sharon choked hard, Trying to concentrate on Ethan, who was now tugging at her skirt, she picked him up and tried to distract herself from the conversation. Suddenly turning to her, Isabella exclaimed, "Sharon," "what about you?" Are you seeing anyone?