Drawing Designs Clothes

A fallen heiress. A broken alpha. A plot for revenge…..and an unexpected twist of fate. When calamity strikes her pack, Valeria does everything within her power to save her people. Even if it means begging for help from the arrogant alpha of the rival pack. But fate has other plans in store for her and when things take an interesting turn, she's left with two choices. Sign her life away to her unexpected mate, or watch her people die. Beneath the icy demeanor and long sleeved clothes of Draaven Ventura lies a den of secrets….and a vengeful heart. When his feisty mate comes breezing through his door, seeking for help, he doesn't hesitate to use the situation to his advantage. His long assembled plan for vengeance is finally coming together, and he has the perfect pawn to use in his game.

'Clothes wouldn't be necessary here, Milady' He should have known she was up to something when she suddenly started to act naive, when she was after all, an escort. 'W-what the hell are you doing in my room?' She had asked when he first entered But he let his third leg do the thinking and forgot to be rational. 'I usually find the hard-to-get game, silly and boring. But, I think this roleplaying stuff gets your juices flowing. How about you be my naughty student instead.' He gently tucked her hair behind her ears and stared at her lips 'I am an escort sir. Not. A. Prostitute. My job description is escort and not call girl. I'll appreciate it if you leave my room or I'll call security.' 'Is this some sort of twisted role play? I already told you to stop. I paid for the night. What the fuck is going on here?' *** It wasn't role play. The slut had a nasty game up her sleeves. Set up and then blackmail. Fucking sleazy reporters were already at his door. Louis knew how deadly the media was in pushing stories about people like him. A false story about him had previously ruined his life. His father had suffered for it as well. He decided to give the media a story that wouldn't ruin him. Who didn't prefer romance to anything else? He looked into the slut's face and threw the proposal in her face. 'You would have to marry me.'

Raised from an infant in discipline, Reza Kelson has been trained to be a cold-blooded killer. Nothing has stopped him when he's been ordered to an assignment, and nothing probably will. An agent for a secret branch of government, he kills and incinerates anything with the discipline of a sharp knife. But even though he's the best at what he does, tables turn when the government dumps Reza from bureaucracy, albeit with a place to be hidden away in. Now Reza finds himself struggling to integrate into the sleepy town of Lonewood. Raised without any form of love or compassion, he naturally comes off as rude and abrasive, and therefore drawing attention. And with other dumped agents, with some bent on settling scores, the entire situation could not be more risible and outrageous. Not to mention the strange boy, Dane Rochelle, who seems strangely possessive of him, and with Reza balances the life he never should have had.

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

Eleanor's heart pounded as Armando backed her into a corner, his eyes dark and unrelenting. "Why do you keep resisting me, Eleanor?" he asked, his voice a low threat. She tried to pull away, but his grip on her wrist tightened. "I won't be your possession, Armando." A slow, dangerous smirk curled on his lips. "We'll see about that." His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her against him, the warmth of his body making it hard to think straight. Before she could protest, his mouth claimed hers, fierce and demanding. She wanted to fight, but the intensity of his kiss shattered her defenses. Her hands, instead of pushing him away, gripped his shoulders, drawing him closer. When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless. "You can lie to yourself all you want," Armando whispered against her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine, "but you can't deny what's between us." Eleanor's heart raced with conflicting emotions, knowing he was right-and hating herself for how much she wanted him. * * * * * * Eleanor's life spirals out of control when she is sold to Armando, a merciless Mafia boss. Their fiery confrontations spark a powerful and dangerous connection neither can deny. As betrayal and threats close in from every direction, Eleanor must decide if she can trust the man who holds her captive or if their growing bond will destroy them both. In a world of ruthless power struggles, love becomes the ultimate risk.

My husband is my supervisor. Before the Day of the Dead comes, I submit an application for leave so I can pay my respects to my late mother. However, he refuses to approve my application. He insists on having me care for his childhood sweetheart, who got into an accident. He even berates me and tells me it's my duty to care for the patients. I can't second-guess them out of jealousy. But I saw him kissing his childhood sweetheart passionately in the hospital ward. He even slipped his hand underneath her clothes at the peak of his passion. "Let me check whether your wounds are better. Do you need more treatment?" She leans closer saucily, and he spanks her. "Do you think you'd be getting this treatment if not for Kaia being pregnant?" I look down at my baby bump as my heart shatters. No wonder he insisted on having me work despite me falling pregnant. How can he possibly love me? If that's the case, I'll give them my blessings.

Nikkie needs to earn at least 70,000 dollars for her mother's medical expenses. She can't get that much money from her part-time job. What kind of job could she get as a high school graduate to earn that much money? As she was crying about her poverty in a corner of the hospital lobby, a couple in their mid-thirties, dressed in fancy clothes, suddenly approached her. "Sorry, we accidentally heard about your predicament. Would you like to help us, and get 70,000 dollars in return?" the woman asked kindly. "What do I have to do? I'll do anything!" said Nikkie excitedly. "Be a surrogate mother for us."

"Just join me for a drink perhaps?" Her bushy brows rose suggestively at me. She knew my answer, she knew what I'd say. I grabbed the bottle off her scrawny hands and said "You know, for a one time thing, this has become a regular." To be honest, I was actually looking forward to meeting up with her. Not that I was going to admit it to her face. "Like therapy sessions from two dumb, ill-favored kids. Who are trying to give each other easing words." She was right. Though her stumbled movements indicated a slight intoxication. Suddenly, out of the awkward moment, she looked up at me with a sad smile and said. "I might be a street girl but is it too bad to wish for a normal life? Go to proms? Have new clothes? Shelter? Love? Do I not deserve?" Her teary eyes searched deep into my soul. I was unaware of the lack of distance between us. When did we get so close with barely an inch barrier? "Flare..." that was all I could say because then all I could feel were soft lips against mine. Her lips! And it felt so nice. Subconsciously, I grabbed her little body and went for another kiss, this time, a deeper kiss.

Sebastian Rae, 27 years old, is the CEO of Royals Publishing. He has been married to his high school crush and got a daughter and she moved away leaving her child behind with Sebastian. Jasmine Lee, 24 years old, was looking for a job but didn't until Sebastian sent out a flier for a job. He wanted a personal assistant and she applied for the job. "Well you are hired...only if you can do me this favor?" he said "What favor is that?" she asked "I need you to get rid of those hideous clothes," he said and came up to her and whispered "if you believe you can manage this job, I need you to...." he said and ran his fingers up her thighs. As he pops open the first three buttons "Can you live dangerous Jasmine?" he asked She shivered "You can only get this job if you are willing to live dangerously~" She then gave him a timid nod. As he made his hands seductively toward her timid red lips. He brushed his fingers over them. "You are mine and I will teach you how to live dangerously Mi Amor"

My fiancée steals my designs to help her senior win a competition. She's not ashamed in the slightest when I confront her. "You're talented, so you can come up with a new design in an instant. This competition means a lot to Avery, so stop being so petty." I drop out of the competition and head home to inherit the family fortune. That's when my fiancée panics. "Don't be so unreasonable, Yarrow. Design is your life's dream and the only thing you want to do. How can you give up on it so easily?" Her senior panics, too. "This design is the product of your blood, sweat, and tears. Can you bear to give up on it at this juncture?" I hang up, unmoved by their words. My fiancée doesn't know that her family's company is the one handling the blueprints for my design. I can't wait to see how her senior is going to handle the situation without my help.