Holding Hands Aesthetic

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

Prince Rafe leans over me, holding himself up on one elbow as he gazes at my face. I feel his eyes wandering over every surface from my brow to my eyes, down my nose, to my lips and chin, and then returning to hold my gaze for a second. The small smile at the corner of his mouth makes me think he likes what he sees. His hand is cool when it brushes a loose curl from my cheek, but I don’t jerk away from him. I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t understand why I’m here. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. It seems like a lot of powerful people want me—dead or alive. And yet, all I can think about right now is how badly I want this vampire’s hands on my body. *** I live in a desolate village on the edge of the Vampire King’s lands. This used to be wolf shifter territory, but now, we are just trying to survive. When I mess up and find myself in a culling, I know I’m dead. No wolf shifters ever survive these events. And after the stunt I pulled in the middle of the village, Prince Rafe probably wants me dead. Is it a good thing or a bad thing when a vampire looks at you like you’re a snack? Something tells me, once I reach the castle, I’ll be missing my miserable existence in the village. But then—it turns out I have no freaking idea who I even am, and when the royals start referring to me as Princess Ainslee, I realize my life is about to take a turn—for better or worse. From the author of The Alpha King’s Breeder

Ice had seen courage under fire, in many cases literally, back in his SEAL days. But he’d never seen anything like Vixen that day. When he first caught sight of her, she was standing with her feet wide apart, solidly braced on those mile-high, mid-thigh black boots, the ones that he loved fucking her in. Her minute green skirt had ridden high and tight up her perfect legs, and her dark eyes were dilated to black as she grimly stared down the approaching vehicle, shooting and shooting, both hands holding the gun. She’d looked every inch the hot female assassin in some blockbuster Hollywood movie, right down to her hair flowing behind her in the autumn wind. **** Ice Johansson is the Road Devils MC’s Chief Enforcer: cold, ruthless, and built for violence. He doesn’t feel guilt, except where Vix is concerned. Weeks ago, he crossed a line with the one woman who mattered to him. Now an enemy attack leaves her badly injured, and Ice wants one thing: to protect her, if she’ll let him close again. Victoria “Vixen” Shaw owns her reputation as the club’s favorite ride. No shame. No apologies. For eighteen months, though, she’s been Ice’s alone. What he did shattered her trust, but when Ice becomes her caretaker – no sex, no demands, just presence – she begins to see the man beneath the ice. As the Road Devils are pushed to the brink, Ice and Vix find intimacy where they never expected it: clothed, raw, and vulnerable. But if Ice reveals the darkest parts of himself – the violence he embraces to protect his family – can Vix accept him? And even if she does, can loving a man like Ice ever truly be safe?

Mia Anderson’s life has been defined by her battle with addiction, holding her back from achieving her dreams of becoming a successful businesswoman. After a failed attempt to land an accounting job, her past catches up with her, and she spirals back into old habits. But as she faces the consequences of her actions, Mia is forced to confront her darkest fears and find the strength to rebuild her life before it's too late.

The autobiography of the sorrowful life of a young boy amidst joy. A cruel and unforgettable past. Wickedness beyond recognition. Born to a busy and ignorant father. Nurtured in the cruel arms of his stepmother. Fate, love and hurdles surround his young life. Having God as the only voice that listens to him. Holding on to hope that light still exists at the end of the tunnel - A moral-filled book that threatens to keep you glued until the end. A book based on African settings, names and themes.

"W-who are you?" I asked looking up to meet the dark figure, but he didn't say anything. I slowly move my hands up to the figure's face until I am feeling the slight stubble on my hands, and in an instant, the yellow eyes glisten at me in the moonlight. I jump pulling my hands away from his face, my heartbeat increasing by the minute."P-please d-don't hurt m-me." I plead as I close my eyes. Instead, he pulls me closer into his embrace, nuzzling his head onto my neck, "I could never hurt you." he finally says and with that my body eases.

"Jealous?" He repeated. "I have no reason to be jealous of him." He leaned in, our faces inches apart. "If I wanted to, I'd have you." He whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "But you can't." I swallowed. "We're just friends." "Friends." He breathed. "And friends don't get jealous." I whispered, my lips brushing against his. "Friends don't 'have' each other." Yet here I was, straddling him in the front seat of my car, my legs on either side of his hips, our bodies pressed together. I could feel his arousal through the fabric of our clothes, and I unconsciously rubbed against him, seeking friction. He groaned, his hands gripping my hips, holding me still. "Fuck, Jo." He brushed his lips against mine in a teasing kiss, and I let out a whimper, my hips jerking. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as I deepened the kiss. As our tongues slid against each other, I tasted the familiar taste of his lips, like burnt honey mixed with whiskey. It suddenly dawned on me that friends shouldn't know how they tasted. * * * Josette Wynters has spent her life moving from town to town because of her parents demanding job. She had looked forward to building her life at Cedarville and for the first time in her life, Josette felt like she was finally happy. That was until she caught the eye of Evander Lloyd. The notorious bad boy of Cedarville high. She had tried to avoid him, yet it seemed fate had other plans and she soon became his obsession.

Sample: ' “Motherfucking dog is what he is , damn it” she chugged her drink down . She pointed her unsteady hand at her two best friends who were watching the show unfold . “ All men are the same . HEARTLESS CHEATING BASTARDS . Do you hear me? Heartless cheating bastards ” Casey screamed at the men sitting on a nearby table. “Yes, that's what you all are . Cheaters . Bloodsucking vampires, you use women like chewing gum and spit them out after you use them”. She placed her glass with a loud bang , almost falling off the table. She joined her hands while looking up at the ceiling, blinking . “If someone up there is listening, I wish all these men would suffer from crabs so bad , they would scratch it so hard that their dicks will fall off ”. She looked down and pointed a finger at them. “This is my curse on your species ”. She turned back to her friends leaving behind a group of mortified men with wide eyes who were left there holding their junks in fear . ' Casey has always been a hopeless romantic, searching for the one person who will finally return her love. Owen, on the surface, has it all—wealth, fame, and an endless stream of admirers. Yet despite his many conquests, he shuns commitment, refusing to be tied to anyone. When a scandal threatens his reputation, Owen concocts a plan: a fake engagement to Casey, In return, he promises to help her win a man. It soon grows complicated.Owen finds himself unexpectedly drawn to Casey but just when love seems within reach, Owen's past returns—his ex, stirring old emotions and doubts. What happened next read in my book ‘Mr Wrong'

Eric Clapton never expected his ex-wife would move on overnight, and be living her best life. His friends have always mocked him for marrying such an ugly woman. When his mistress showed up, he couldn't exercise the smallest patience to stay married to Liana. "My mind is made up, Liana. Let's get a divorce. $90 million and the penthouse in Rochester will be compensation for your mental damage. Is that enough?" Eric put down the envelope and pen on the pillow beside her. Liana sat up, eyes glued to the man she has dedicated three years of her life to. "Is that all you have to say and offer?" She asked, her eyes holding a trace of detachment. Eric was stuck in thoughts. This was unlike the fragile and indecisive woman he married. Liana smiled as she gazed at his unreadable expression. "I can see you're really prepared for this, you know. This is obviously the first time in three years since you returned home before 11:00 pm, Eric." She added, her lips curling up into an enigmatic smile as she decisively scribbled her signature on the papers. The next morning at the courthouse, she held the divorce papers, her fragile heart tearing apart as she watched her ex husband smiling when he walked away, his hands carefully wrapped around another woman's waist while they strode to his car. Seeing him replace her so quickly was really heart wrenching, but right there, she saw another man who just got dumbed by his fiancee at the crucial hour, and without hesitation, she walked up to him and proposed to replace his fiancee. Now, what will Eric do when at the moment of his regret, he realised that she didn't only move on, but she's now his boss's wife?

Sara's legs straddling Austin's lap, their lips clashed in a fierce, passionate kiss. The sound of their lips meeting was like a spark, igniting a flame that threatened to consume them. "Mmm," Sara murmured, her lips vibrating against Austin's. "I hate you," Austin growled, his hands grasping her hips, pulling her closer. His fingers dug into her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Sara's hands were just as busy, her fingers tracing the lines of Austin's face, her thumbs brushing against his lips. "I hate you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their kissing. Their lips parted for a moment, and Austin's tongue darted out, tracing the curve of Sara's lower lip. She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Sara's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the contours of Austin's chest. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. As she exposed his chest, Austin's eyes locked onto hers, a warning flashing in their depths. "You'll hate me tomorrow," he said, his voice low and rough. Sara's eyes flashed with defiance, her hands continuing to explore Austin's chest. "We don't like each other anyway," she said, her voice husky with desire.