Dry Hump

“Paige Miller. Stay here for a bit.” He said when my foot was already out the door. I swallowed hard and looked at Darla who just shrugged and closed the door. I was alone with the hot Callan Montgomery Holden. “So, Paige. I thought you were a bartender.” “And I thought you were just a rich asshole kissing girls all day. Never would've peg you for a CEO, boss.” “Hmm. You're funny. I like you.” “Please don't.” I said and he chuckled again. He bit his lower lip, and I could feel myself wanting to hump him right there on his swiveling chair. “You're thinking the same thing I am, right?” “That I should report you to HR for sexual harassment?” “Ha! Good one. But no. I know you want me too. Right here right now. I can feel you getting hot and wet.” “From the way you kissed me, last night? Sorry, but no. Besides, I'm married.” I lied. I realized I was being stupid and reckless when I remembered it was very specific in the job listing that I had to be single with no kids. “Okay, look. I'm not married, but I'm not interested either. I can't afford to be your next plaything. I need this job to save enough money to start my own small business and not work for anyone ever again. So, please. I know you're probably a great guy, but I'm just not interested. So, if there's nothing else you need professionally, good day, Mr. Holden.” “Sure. But they always say that at first. You'll come around.” If I didn’t have a daughter to think of, I'd have made you come in my mouth already you rich spoiled brat!" I wanted to say, but of course absolutely couldn't.

It’s all started with a flirt. It wasn’t a surprise to me that he’s a playboy—it’s all written all over his pretty face. He’s a kind of guy your mom warned you about, but your body craves. It might be hard to accept, but I’ve been in a dry spell for a long time. So maybe he’s the answer, but the charming, cocky, and brutally honest playboy made me feel like no men ever did. And pretty soon, I was in too deep. *** It wasn’t a part of my plan. In fact, I never have imagined my life to be with someone more than just to warm my bed, let alone a woman with a kid, but just a single look at her gorgeous blue eyes, I’m already confused—I’ve never been drawn to any women the way I was drawn to her.

She was discarded like a tool after being drained dry, yet became the only mate of a tyrant Lycan king. Lyra's newborn son was taken from her by her Alpha husband and given to his mistress to be raised as their heir, while she herself was accused of infidelity. Falsely accused, condemned to die, she lay in a pool of her own blood waiting for the end—when she heard a voice. “Let her go.” Kael Ashvorn, the tyrant known as the Reaper, pulled her from the pile of corpses and marked her in front of everyone. His hands were stained with blood. Everyone said the Moon Goddess had cursed him, that he would never be given a fated mate or an heir. Until he caught her scent. Her second chance was the most dangerous man alive. His only mate who could bear him a child—was a woman already broken. Was he the Reaper—or her only chance to survive?

Past thirty, my usually serious husband suddenly developed a fascination with pink. The dark-colored furniture that had stayed the same for ten years was replaced with pink; even the utensils he picked up casually were pink. I stared at the line of pink pajamas, pink bow ties, and pink underwear hanging out to dry on the balcony, feeling something was off. "I thought you said you hated pink—that it was a color only women liked?" He was unpacking a new pink bed set and didn't even look up. "Oh, Jack and I made a bet. If I can replace everything in the house with pink, he'll give me his seaside villa for free. Honestly, after looking at it for a while, pink isn't that bad, don't you think?" I neither agreed nor disagreed. Instead, I called Jack, who blurted out, "What seaside villa? I don't remember ever buying one!"

My husband's beloved lover suffered from menstruation complications. A traveling doctor claimed that a fresh placenta was needed to cure her. His gaze fixated on my seven-months-pregnant baby bump. And thus, I was pinned down on the bed as they ripped the placenta from my body. My son was carelessly tossed aside. He didn't even get the chance to cry before his tiny body fell silent forever. My husband pinched his nose in disgust, frowning as he looked at me—bleeding out, feebly reaching for my child. “It’s just a premature baby. He'll be fine after a few days of care. Why are you making such a fuss? Sandra is waiting for her medicine." He left and locked the door behind him without looking back. He claimed it was a lesson I needed to learn. By the time he finally remembered us, my son and I had long since bled dry, our bodies cold and stiff.

From bestselling author Emily Goodwin comes the epic start to a sexy and exciting paranormal romance series... Never trust a vampire. I might have learned that lesson the hard way. But when I find myself in a vampire-owned bar, I don’t have much of a choice. With vampires still trying to assimilate into mainstream society, I’ve done Lucas King a favor by stopping one of his patrons from draining a human dry in the basement of his bar. A favor he'd prefer to repay in bed than in kind. Vampires and witches have had more than a jaded history, and when witches start showing up dead in surrounding covens, all signs point to something old and powerful. Something that knows the ways of the witches.Something--or someone--like Lucas. What's worse than trusting a vampire? Falling in love with one.Dead of Night a vampire/witch romance and is book one in the Thorne Hill series.

"She thinks I deceived her. How would I tell her that she is the only person I have ever fallen in love with." ✧●✧ "L-leave me." She murmured as his proximity was making her senses erratic. "Because you don't want me."Only she knew the pain she felt while saying that sentence. "What if I say I want you?" His amusing smirk made her breath shaky. There was something changed in him but the eyes were the same as before. It was hard to find which side of him was true. "Why do you want me?" She wet her dry lips as he came closer tightening his hold around her waist. He chuckled at her sentence. "We are married." He said with an amusing smirk when he added. "I just realized that, I am married to the best person in the world who can fulfill my needs only." His black midnight eyes were getting darker.

“I’m not a slut!” I shot back, clearly irritated. He let out a dry laugh, taking a step closer to me. “You are right, you are not a slut.” He curled his index finger under my chin, his eyes locked with mine. “You are my slut.” **** When a mysterious monster virus breaks out in a once peaceful pack and every clue points at an elite high school, Noah Wolfclaw, an Alpha Prince is sent by his father to Danville High, undercover. The plan was to not draw attention to himself until he had figured out what the school had to do with the Virus but his plan becomes difficult when he becomes tangled with Astrid Moon, a timid, wolfless omega who has been bullied her entire life. What happens when Noah discovers his mate behind the walls of a school that held many secrets? What happens when Danville’s secrets are finally out in the open and he eventually has to choose between love and duty?

*******Feeling someone's eyes on me I turn to look at the blue-eyed stranger who has his eyes set on me. It feels like his eyes are staring into my soul. It is clear that he heard our conversation as he has a smirk on his face while staring at me. I lick my dry lips and shiver when his eyes move to my lips. I shiver and quickly turn towards Aztec as he pulls me in the direction of what I assume must be the dining room.**** Being an adopted child of the pack, Fenris has always felt like an outsider. Being rejected by his mate along with a murder case to solve, triggers Fenris to find answers about his past. He learns that his parents were murdered by a rogue. Meanwhile Sierra has fallen prey to that same rogue's tricks. Will Fenris avenge his parents death? Will he find his answers or will he lose his mate to the murderer of his parents?

My fiancé dumped me the moment he found out about my rare blood type. "That condition of yours? Yeah, it'd just drain my wallet." I was spiraling when Vincent showed up—like some knight in shining armor, pulling me out of the wreckage. He didn't care about my blood type. We barely dated before he proposed, and for a while, married life felt perfect. Until a year later, when I overheard him talking to a doctor. "Vincent, you already took 400 milliliters of Sophia's blood last month, and now you want another 200? Are you insane? Even if you love Emma, you can't just drain an innocent woman dry for her!" "A little more won't kill her. Stop overreacting." My head spun. My whole body went cold. That's when it hit me—our perfect marriage had been a lie from the start.