Just One Kiss, Before Divorcing Me Novels & Stories

ANGEL “Tell me what he likes, and we’ll go from there. You know… like his favorites? Is there anything specific he’s been looking forward to?” “Divorce,” I blurted out. “What?” His brows pulled together. “Nothing,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I mean… I don’t really know.” Whoo! Good thing he did not hear me clearly. His expression shifted to confusion. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Her face looks disgusted and I don't blame her, the kiss was gross. She removes herself out of her trance and gets up and leaves. Um... okay? Why did she just run off like that?

Have you really been so stressed about that promotion that you've lost sight of what's important? After hearing her words, the people who had been pointing fingers at me slowly began to relent. "He isn't completely irresponsible after all… Perhaps he's dealing with too much pressure." "Divorce is just talk. Don't take it seriously." Wendy pulled me into a hug and whispered, "Come on, honey. I'm just trying to earn merit for our baby. You love me—you wouldn't actually want a divorce, would you?" I shoved her away and said coldly, "I'm serious. I'm not joking. You can play the saint if you like, but the divorce is final. The sooner we sign, the sooner it's done."

Chapter 14 My hands stilled in the air where they had been reaching for him in shock. Without even thinking about it, I shut my eyes and let the kiss happen. His lips were soft but they came down on mine with a hardness that sent shivers through me. His hands around my waist had pulled me into him so that his hardness blended with my curves. Then suddenly it stopped. He inhaled sharply and stepped away from me, leaving his hands around my waist. “If you would please excuse us” he told the media and continued to walk.

"Come on, Tyler. Quit playing around." He tapped his hand on his cheek. "A kiss on the cheek. That's all I ask." I looked at him for a long while, weighing my options. It was just a kiss on the cheek right? I think I could do that. Finally, releasing a heavy breath, I said. "Fine." I leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek. Just then, Tyler move my phone in front of us, while I kissed his cheek. By the time I looked at the phone to see what he did, he moved the phone from my reach again and began to type something on my phone.

"Our relationship is over. Now that I think about it, what we had before was nothing more than an obsession with each other. Instead of lying to myself and ending up regretting it for the rest of my life, it's better to just end it and come back to you." Sophia's words made Tristan smile widely. However, the smile didn't last long as Tristan consciously grabbed Sophia's chin and devoured her lips. Squeeze it firmly. Not to give the woman in front of her an opportunity to refuse. Their lips were pressed against each other in a deep and passionate kiss. Reciprocate. Give and take each other. It was as if the kiss reflected the longing held back for so long, and that moment could only be channe

I was Damian Valenti’s legal wife. But to the rest of New York, Sofia Bellini was the woman he planned to marry—and I was the pregnant mistress who refused to let him go. Damian said it was only for show. Sofia’s husband had died saving his life, and he had promised to protect her. She needed the wedding and the title of Donna. I already had what mattered: his love, his fortune, and our real marriage. At least, that was what Damian believed. He was so certain I would understand that he spent our seventh anniversary helping Sofia choose her wedding dress. He never noticed that I was in the fitting room beside them, wearing the dress he had once promised to see me in. As Sofia admired herself

He was insatiable, and so was I. One night, as we lay in his bed after another intense session, he kissed my forehead. “I’m divorcing my wife,” he said quietly. “I want this to be real. I want you.” Tears filled my eyes. “I want you too. All of you.” We made love slowly after that, tender, emotional, full of whispered promises and deep kisses. But not everything was perfect. A few days later, as we were having dinner at a quiet restaurant, my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

His stare remained sharp, but there was a flicker of surprise—as if he didn’t expect Sarah to fight back. “If I’m no longer accepted by the Vexler family, and if you as my husband never respect me as your wife,” she said hoarsely, “then let’s get a divorce!” The words echoed through the quiet room. Ronan stared at her for a long moment, expressionless. Then suddenly his voice exploded, cold and loud. “NO!”