Dirty Thirty Birthday Novels & Stories

“Favorite troublemaker? Since when?” “Since you stole my parking spot last month and left me that note saying ‘Finders keepers, loser sleeps in the street.’” She snorted. “Come in, birthday boy.” He walked in. The apartment was small, cozy, fairy lights on the wall, couch full of throw pillows, her laptop open on the coffee table with N*****x paused. He set the cake down.

More like fuck my best friend. He furrows his brows in confusion. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” “You sure about that, Dean? Because I heard a woman’s voice coming from your bedroom a few nights ago. You mean to tell me I have it all wrong. You watching porn or something?” “Goddammit Celeste, I don’t have a girlfriend and I’m not watching porn. I just want to know if you’ll be okay to travel by yourself. If not, I can have Vance…”

"I hope you're happy, Traci. He's fucking ruined me. I won't be able to sit for a week." Traci just giggled. "You'll get used to it." "The fuck I will," Beth muttered. "Ok, it was pretty wild, but I think I like plain old fucking a whole lot better. Even with the lube, that hurt!" "At least you'll get almost a whole week to recover. His birthday isn't until next Saturday. And on his birthday, we can't deny him anything." I felt her shudder in my arms. I held her close and nuzzled her neck. "Don't worry baby, I'd never make you do anything you don't want to."

"Lina, I failed you." Meanwhile, Dad suddenly remembered the bouquet I had bought for Mom. He questioned the janitor, checked the logs, and searched through garbage trucks one by one. From sunrise to sunset, he kept looking, even getting mistaken for a scavenger and driven off three times. Finally, he found it. The lilies had long since turned yellow. They were crushed, wilted, and covered in mold—just like what had become of me. He took the flowers to Mom's grave, a place I had never been allowed to visit.

Ace's age is known to me; he is now 30 years old, as his and my birthdays have passed. Today is July, and Aaron and I will celebrate Christmas and New Year's Eve with Zoey and the four Tom, Justin, Charlie, and Max. I'm glad I'm with someone I can trust, and they've become close friends. Ace's men are still on their base, doing the work they needed in our company to be ready if something happened to us. I'm not sure Ace would let go of it once he returned home. **

But once again, he stayed silent, as if he didn’t hear her. “Is he old? Is he ugly? Toothless? Smelly?” she asked again. Her heart sank. What if all of that was true? Marc wasn’t even denying it. Not only had he ignored her birthday, now it felt like he was handing her over to some creepy stranger named Miller. The car stopped in front of a five-star hotel. One of those fancy places only celebrities hung out at. Cassandra buried her sadness. She wasn’t going to cry—not on her birthday. She remembered her mom once said crying on your birthday was bad luck.

"Not closure. Not champagne. A cock inside you while your ex cuts his fucking cake." I come again – my scream muffled by his palm, my pussy squeezing his cock, my whole body shaking while coats fall around us and the bass from the DJ thumps through the wall. He fucks me through it – hard, relentless – and then pulls out before he finishes. "Not yet," he pants. "Not done with you." The bathroom. Third floor. The one nobody uses because it's in the wing of the venue reserved for overnight guests.

“This is midnight. Happy 19th birthday to the Alpha Devils,” I stared at him in disbelief, anger blazing through “If you don't want to spend your birthday in another life, fight. Because if there is one thing, I want. It is to find you three dead by morning,” “Have fun on your birthday.”

CATALINA I groaned as I messed up my hair; fury and patience erupted while I frowned at my laptop, trying to figure out the correct password for this goddamn flash drive. His birthday, the day he was hired, my father’s birthday and the day he died, my birthday, and the birth of the company. None of them is the correct password, and it’s making me mad. Uncle Mondo gave me too much work. I don't even know if the information inside will help me in this situation.

I never really bought into fairy tales; those stories seemed too good to be true. After losing my parents, I realized everything has its expiration date. The impending end of my relationship with Mario is almost palpable. Despite the chaos brewing, my feet stay firmly planted on the ground. Now, about that mysterious note – being at the Princetons’, I figure they’ve probably left one at my house. The thought makes my heart skip a beat. “Who’s trying to blackmail me?” I type on my notes app with determination.