Heat Prequel Novels & Stories

Aurelia My whole body went ablaze from just reading his dirty text. Heat surged through me like wildfire, pooling low between my thighs. Wetness trickled down, soaking the thin lace of my panties. My nipples hardened instantly, straining against the sheer fabric of the dress. They turned into visible, aching peaks that rubbed with every shallow breath I took. I tried, God, I tried not to let my mind wander, not to picture him actually doing it. Pushing me down on these grand marble stairs in front of everyone, spreading my thighs wide, burying his face between them and devouring me like I was his last meal.

He slid into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. The mansion loomed in his mind—his childhood home, now hers . Was she there right now? Was she in his father’s bed, warming it up, wearing his father’s ring, his father's big shirt, playing the perfect wife? The thought made him want to punch something. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Margaret again. He didn’t even bother to check the message. He wasn't in the mood for any shits right now.

I woke up the next morning with my skin still feeling sensitized, the ghost of Chase’s grip lingering on my hips and the scent of him clinging to my sheets. For a while, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I had just signed away my entire life for a bonus and a bit of adrenaline. I had called him a predator, and he had leaned into it, but there was something in the way he had looked at me before I left the office—something that didn't feel like a game.

Biting down on her bottom lip, she gently rubs her growing stomach which seemed invisible until she turns slightly to the side as a smile graced her face. “Hello, mommy’s baby, wait until daddy sees you, I love you so much.” TO BE CONTINUED… P.S. Sorry for the short chapter guys, currently working on the next as you read. Heat Vol 2. Is meant to finish this month, so expect frequent chapters, and all those who are back to school, hope you enjoy it and that all goes well with your education ;)

“But right now, the gallery is fully booked. If you had brought this to me a week ago, I would have agreed without hesitation.” A lump formed in my throat. A week ago? If only I had known. If only I had acted faster, moved quicker, been one step ahead instead of drowning in my own hesitation. Delaware exhaled, leaning back slightly as if trying to soften the blow. “At the moment, Hillman has booked a three-week convention to showcase the missing pieces of Hilther—treasures from the ancient times. We’re swamped, Darla.” Hillman. Of course.

His muscles tensed under my palm, and I squeezed lightly, feeling the heat of him through his pants. He let out a low chuckle. "Careful, Evelyn. You're playing with fire." "Good," I said, my voice bolder than I felt. I slid my hand higher, brushing the edge of his hardness. He groaned softly, shifting in his seat. "I like the burn." The drive felt endless, every red light a torture. My body was alive, hyperaware. My nipples tightened against my bra, sensitive to the slightest brush of fabric. Heat flushed my chest, my neck, spreading downward. I pressed my thighs together, trying to ignore the slickness building, but it only intensified the ache.

"So what's got you stuck? Plot hole? Character motivation? Or..." He paused, and Emma could swear he was holding back laughter. "What?" she demanded. "Nothing. It's just that 'Heat Between the Lines' sounds like it might be a romance about books. Or writers. Am I warm?" Too warm. Uncomfortably, impossibly warm. "It's about a novelist," Emma admitted reluctantly. "And let me guess she's struggling to write authentic passion because she's never actually experienced it herself?" Emma's mouth fell open. "How did you—"

“I didn’t even say hi properly. Hey man.” “Hey,” Logan replied, his tone polite but slightly distant. Helen came back with a tray, setting it down on the table. “I made tea for everyone.” “No way , thank you,” I said softly. “So,” Helen began as she sat, “how was Paris really? I saw some pictures online,” she winked at me. “and you know media’s been… saying a lot.” I rolled my eyes slightly. “They always do. Paris was hectic, I learnt new things everyday.”

She didn’t need to be feared or adored. This time, she’d build something better. Something that couldn’t be torn down with one “accident.” --- Later That Night – Bedroom She opened her notebook again. She crossed out a line. ✘ Friday public spill trap – AVOIDED She added another name to the corner of the page. Jace Carter – unpredictable, might become useful The unknown number hadn’t texted again. Yet. But she could feel it. The real enemy hadn’t made their move. And when they did, she’d be ready.

Five seconds ago, I was whining about the sweltering heat in the RV, begging Hudson to use his extremely precious powers just to make me a damn popsicle. Then the memories flooded in. I was nothing but a piece of arm candy in a sweet romance novel, clinging to others to survive. Hudson was the overpowered male lead. Before the world ended, I had chased him relentlessly until he caved. After the apocalypse, I hadn't changed a bit—I was a total brat.