Everytime We Touch Lyrics Novels & Stories

The year my dad went broke, I was sent to live with billionaire heir Jace Blackwell. We grew up together. When he had a fever, he clung to me, face buried in my arms. When he got yelled at, he sprawled across my lap and sulked. And when another boy wrote me a love letter, Jace pinned me down and kissed me—shaking, jealous, possessive. Everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Then, on the day we were filling out our early college applications, a sharply dressed man burst into the classroom and shoved me to the floor. He grabbed eighteen-year-old Jace, his eyes bloodshot. "Jace! Look at me! I'm you ten years from now! Don't go to the same college as Nadia. She's not the one you love. It's Faye!" Faye Whitmore. The broke new girl. Eighteen-year-old Jace stared at that identical face, stunned. Then his expression went dark. "What the hell are you talking about? The only person I love is Nadia! I don't care who you are. Touch her again, and I'll kill you!" He rushed over and pulled me into his arms. He was shaking. I gave a bitter smile. No one knew. I was from ten years in the future, too. And twenty-eight-year-old Jace wasn't lying. By then, I wasn't the girl he loved anymore.

To stay by the side of award-winning actress Victoria Quinn, I gave up the system's one-billion-dollar cash reward. I also drained every last one of my luck points to make her paralyzed legs heal. The price was that my life became bound to her loyalty. If she ever betrayed me, emotionally or physically, my soul would be ripped from my body and erased completely. At the moment of binding, I hesitated. But when I looked into her eyes and saw the depth of her love, I believed her. I believed her when she said, "Out of all the people in the world, I only want you." So I chose to become the man who stood silently behind her, giving everything without complaint, and I pressed confirm. For seven years, we loved each other as deeply as we had in the beginning. Hand in hand, we weathered every storm together. Until our wedding anniversary. I was in the kitchen making her favorite soup when I suddenly coughed violently and spat out a large pool of black blood. Then I looked down and saw my fingers slowly turning transparent, so faint that I could no longer even touch the glass in front of me. At the same time, a piercing alarm rang through my mind. "Warning. Bound target's love value has fallen below the critical threshold. Erasure protocol activated..."

One contract. Two broken hearts. Zero chance of walking away. My life shattered in a single night. Betrayed by my fiancé, drowning in my family's debt, with nowhere left to turn. Then he appeared. Damien Cross. Billionaire. Bastard. The most dangerous man I've ever met. His offer was simple, marry me for one year. Save your family. Ask no questions. I should have said no. Should have seen the trap. But desperation makes you reckless, and I signed my name next to his at 3am in a Vegas chapel, our hands shaking with rage and champagne. The rules were clear: Separate bedrooms, No feelings, When the contract ends, we walk away But... We broke every single one. Now I'm trapped in his world of glass towers and cruel games, where every touch is a weapon and every kiss is a war. He looks at me like I'm his to own, like he'd burn down the world to keep me. I hate him. I crave him. I'm addicted to the chaos we create. But contracts expire. Lies unravel. And when I discover the devastating truth about why he really married me, I'll have to choose, walk away with my heart intact—or stay and let his obsession consume us both. He warned me not to fall in love with him. So, he should have warned himself.

His fingers trailed across my skin, making goosebumps pop up. The featherlight touch was driving me insane with need. He parted my thighs and stepped between them. His eyes drank in my features as if he was trying to memorize them. I always felt out of control around him, but I had a feeling that he loved that. "Tell me what you want, Violet," he murmured, his hand gently wrapping around me throat. "Tell me what you desire.” Enzo's other hand went to my skirt and began pushing it up until my white thong was showing. His finger ran over its wet center. A sinful smirk tugged at his lips. "Naughty little Violet is already so wet, and we haven't even begun. Tell me what you want, or we'll go back to work." His eyebrow rose up, awaiting my response. "You. I want you to touch me," I breathed out. ***** Enzo Vittori is a mystery to most. They believe that the CEO of Vittori Enterprises has everything that he could want. However, the one thing that he does not have is someone to stand beside him as an equal, someone to claim as his own. Violet Starling is a curveball that fate throws into his path. A woman who draws him in without even trying – a woman who will fight until her final breath is taken. Secrets blanket her reality and threaten her life. All it takes is one night for everything to change. They say that she is not human. They say that her mother is not really dead. Can Enzo protect her even when forces want her dead? Can she tame Mr. Vittori who is known for his cold, indifferent, and calculating presence? One thing is certain. Their journey will be filled with trials, passion, and spice.

“You’re just like a sister to me.” Those were the actual words that broke the camel’s back. Not after what just happened. Not after the hot, breathless, soul-shaking night we spent tangled in each other’s arms. I knew from the beginning that Tristan Hayes was a line I shouldn’t cross. He wasn’t just anyone, he was my brother’s best friend. The man I spent years secretly wanting. But that night… we were broken. We had just buried our parents. And the grief was too heavy, too real.... so I begged him to touch me. To make me forget. To fill the silence that death left behind. And he did. He held me like I was something fragile. Kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to breathe. Then left me bleeding with six words that burned deeper than rejection ever could. So, I ran. Away from everything that cost me pain. Now, five years later, I’m back. Fresh from rejecting the mate who abused me. Still carrying the scars of a pup I never got to hold. And the man waiting for me at the airport isn’t my brother. It’s Tristan. And he's not the guy I left behind. He's a biker. An Alpha. And when he looked at me, I knew there was no where else to run to.

"Everytime I think about you, I feel like I'm burning." W-why?" "You know why." "But-" "I have this weird thoughts in my head. this naughty, dirty thoughts. About you." "V-Victor-" "So they real question is, what will I do, when I actually see you in person, Cilia?" ----- That becomes the life of Cilia Carpenter, a girl that lives with the biggest boyband of the world, Heathens. Being the only girl in the lives of seven grown men, Cilia has to navigate her life with caution, but it all goes up in flames when the seven boys fall head over heels for her at once, and a competition for her affection arises. But here's the catch. Cilia is dead. And that is her ghost they are in love with. So will this love really bloom? Will Cilia be able to hold back from creating a harem and resist their temptation? Or will Heathens lives blow up over their love for a ghost?

My girlfriend, Clara Sutton, had severe mysophobia. Before every intimate moment we shared, she required me to disinfect myself thoroughly in advance. She even set strict rules about how often we could kiss or sleep together, and how long it could last. Without her permission, I was not allowed to touch her. I had always believed she treated everyone this way. I even secretly felt relieved, thinking that I must have been somewhat special to her. Then came that night at the bar. During a party, her childhood friend, Ethan Ford, drew a dare in a game of truth or dare. Then, in front of everyone, he leaned in and kissed Clara. Although it was supposedly a punishment for losing, they kissed deeply for a full five minutes. Our friends laughed and jostled one another as they turned to look at me. Only then did I realize that Clara’s obsession with cleanliness had never been a universal rule. It had existed simply because she did not like me. Disheartened, I asked for a breakup. But Clara soon regretted it. With reddened eyes, she begged me not to leave.

"Why is it that everytime I met you, you were busy running from me?" He asked me, his hand still holding mine captured above my head. I felt powerless. I couldn't do anything. I hate being vulnerable. No matter what I've always loved to have a sense of power in me but with Michael Milan it just seems impossible. He was like hard drugs mixed together in my system. No matter what I do, I just couldn't get away from him. "Because I'm saving myself from you, Micheal." I whispered softly. "You will destroy me if I get too close." A love at first sight. A love that was so wrong and so right at the same time. Aisling was torn between protecting what she loves and surrendering.

I step into his office and he's waiting for me seated behind his desk. He eyes me intently. His amber eyes bore deep like he's trying to look into my soul. My face is neutral with so expressed emotions. “You can't work under me anymore Ms. Robinson.” He says and I wonder why am not surprised. So the rumors were true. “Are you firing me sir?” I ask and everytime I say the word Sir it feels so foreign in my tongue even now. He sighs and gets up from his seat staring at me with a professional look on his face. “I can't continue like you don't know what I want Ms. Robinson.” He replies and I frown not wanting to get into the same topic once more. I look away. “You know it's not possible. You are....married sir.” And I am forced to go down memory lane which brings nothing but pain and sadness. It had been four years since he left to study abroad. He left me with the hope of him returning and uniting with me. For our love. We loved each other since elementary school and I even did the deed at fifteen. I waited for him. I depended on his promise and didn't look anywhere else for love because my heart had already been claimed by him. But I was in for a shock and a pain wrenching stab to my chest when he returned but not alone. He returned not as mine but as someone else's. He was far away from me now. He returned as a married man with his wife. Now he wants me back but not as his equal but as his secret lover. As his mistress.

It started with a glance. A smirk. A touch that lingered too long. He’s the boy they warned me about—inked, broken, addicted to danger. My stepbrother. The walking sin who thrives off chaos and knows exactly how to make a good girl come undone. We were forced into this family. But I was the one who let him into my bed. My head. My heart. He tastes like trouble. Kisses like he owns my soul. And when he tells me I'm his—even if the world burns for it—I believe him. Because I didn't just fall for my stepbrother. I fell into the darkness with him. And now, I don’t want to find the light.