Easy Reading Romance Books Novels & Stories

I turn around and take a look at those. "They don't feel the same anymore", I tell him. He immediately frowns in confusion. "So, you got bored with ROMANCE?" "No. But there's a reason", I say, leaning against the shelf and placing my palm over the books. Then I slowly trace my hand over them. "And the reason is—" he leans back too, a foot of distance between us but we can clearly hear each other whispering. "People who read romance, mostly women—" I giggle. "They want to escape reality. So, they can find more beautiful things in fiction"

I want her to know how much I want her and want to be with her, but I don’t want to scare her off. “What were you reading on the balcony?” I asked her. “Just a romance book,” she replied. “It’s about a mafia princess who falls in love with a guy in the mafia, but she’s betrothed to someone else. It’s very well written.” “Sounds like a great love story. One you could tell your kids,” I smirked. “Well, probably not all the violence and sex,” Isabella giggled. “True,” I chuckled. “What are you doing tomorrow?” I probed.

Carefully, I slide the book from her lap and flip to the first page. It’s a romance novel. Women read about the kind of men they want, right? It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t hurt if I actually like the kind of guy she’d be into. It’d make our act more convincing. That’s all. I flip open the book and let my eyes skim the first few lines. She knew she shouldn’t want him. He was trouble, wrapped in a smile that made her forget her own name. I pause. That’s... intense.

“What should we do first? Maybe explore the backyard? Or we could find a game?” Esme was silent for a long moment, her little brow furrowed in thought. Her bags felt heavy in her hands, a physical reminder of the new life she was trying to step into. Just as she was about to suggest something else, Esme looked up. “You can read to me.” Relief washed over Ellie. She smiled. “I would love to. What book do you want? What’s your favorite book?”

I couldn’t tell him what I liked to read. As if he read my thoughts, Sam added. “Elara loves reading romance novels too.” I couldn’t look at him, I knew he was grinning. I tried to save face. “Who says I like romance books?” “Your red cheeks and your age. What young woman doesn’t like reading about dashing men who woo their women?” “It’s not real.” I pouted. “No, but Elara informs me that it’s fun to read anyway.” He joked. “Besides, it took her decades before she’d admit it to me. I know the reaction quite well to the question.”

[Francis Davis, 1990-2023] No final words of wisdom and no heartfelt farewells. Just the dates marking the beginning and end of their stories, with a tiny dash in between to represent everything in between. That tiny dash was their whole world. They fell hard for each other, fought fiercely, and in the end, they went down together.

“You gonna ride me right here? On the couch where your family watches TV?” “Yes,” I hissed, grinding harder. “Please, Ethan.” He reached between us, spitting on his fingers before circling my hole. One thick finger pushed in slowly. I bit my lip hard to stay quiet, forehead pressed to his shoulder. “Relax for me,” he murmured, working the finger deeper, curling it just right. “Gonna open you up nice and slow so you can take every inch of my cock.” He added a second finger, scissoring gently. The stretch burned so good. I rocked back onto his hand, chasing the feeling.

Which she placed all her story books since her mother couldn't afford to buy her a shelf. Grinning, Ria rummaged through the books. To her surprise, it was filled with romance novels. She had no idea her icy boss reads romance books. "This is a discovery" Ria mumbled as she picked up a book and peered at the cover. "It ends with us" she read aloud.

She was fully expecting him to give it one glance, and put it down with a caustic remark about trash, at which she would mutter something equally caustic about literary snobs. Instead he scanned it for perhaps twenty seconds. It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed, but she did. Not because he was reading about the imaginative contortions of Dominic and Natalya, but because he was probably imagining her reading them and getting all hot and erogenous in the process. In fact, she had not. As scenes of rampant nookie went, it had been disappointingly unerotic - more like a DIY plumbing manual than anything else. ‘Jesus,* he muttered at last. ‘This is anatomically impossible.*

Or that they at least, got the wrong impression of her. “They think I don’t like romance?” She asked like there was someone else in the room with her. “Well, I bet they’ve never even messed around with any guy before. They’ve probably never even gotten kissed by a hot guy before and I’m the unromantic one?” “Otherwise they wouldn’t shut up about it. I would have heard stories about it”. “I’ll show them both that I’m not what they think of me”. “I’ll find a hot guy, make out with him and have sex with him”.