Love Never Felt So Good With Lyrics

When a popular guy from another school named Eustone transferred to Shinrea SHS he encountered the toughest girl ever existed. The moment Sasha punched him in the face made him thought of something good. And from that punch on, he'd irritate her more. What he didn't know was behind that tough girl is someone who is trapped in a horrid past.

Right before I hit forty, my husband hit me with: "I want a divorce." For the past ten years, I had been driving a truck outside every day to support my family, while he had been cheating on me at home. Even our child was no longer close to me. "Bad Mom! You hit Jenny! Bad Mom!" Willy cried. "I don't want Mom. I want Jenny. I wanna stay with Dad and Jenny!" Jenny. The neighbor. Single mom. Her kid and ours were tight. Ten years of grinding, running myself ragged—for two ingrates? All right! Wish your family of four a happy life! I didn't want my husband or son anymore.

The year Felix Gibson and I were most in love, we got married. After the wedding, I quit my job and devoted all my attention to him. But he thought I was too clingy and started seeing one woman after another on the side. I did not care because I knew they were just flings. That was, until he kept standing up for one of them repeatedly. When I confronted him, he casually said, "Lexie, she reminds me so much of how you used to be." I filed for divorce and moved abroad to focus on my career. Forget about being anyone’s second choice. I was determined to stand out on my own. Later, Felix came back, begging on his knees for me to take him back.

She married him knowing one thing clearly: love was never part of the agreement. Their marriage was built on terms, not promises. A shared home. A shared bed. A public image to maintain. Nothing more. He was distant, controlled, and never cruel — but never warm either. To him, she was a wife in name, a solution to a problem, a role that needed to be filled. What neither of them expected was how silence could become dangerous. How intimacy without love could still leave marks. How wanting someone could come long before admitting it. As the line between obligation and desire begins to blur, she must decide how long she can stay where she isn’t truly chosen — and he must face the truth he never planned for. Because sometimes, the most dangerous thing isn’t loving someone too much… It’s realizing you never meant to love them at all.

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “Celeste, you know Isabella has been sick for years.” “Yes, I know,” I said bitterly. “I know because you remind me every single day.” He ignored the edge in my voice. “She’s not getting better. The doctors said she probably has a year left.” I swallowed hard. “And how does that concern me?” “She has one last wish,” he said quietly. “She wants to get married before she dies.” He wants to divorce me and remarry me after a year, but that’s nonsense! I’m tired of this marriage. This divorce isn’t a joke to me; I’m taking it seriously.

My uncle’s rival, Emmett Meyer, saved me twice. The first time, I was drowning after a shipwreck—until he cut through the waves on a speedboat and dragged me ashore. The second time was after someone had slipped drugs into my drink. That night, I seduced him, a hardened man ten years my senior. In the dim glow of a private room, he guided my hand downward and growled, “I want you so bad, Babe.” He took me ruthlessly, ignoring my sobs and pleas. From then on, Emmett—the untamable “Prince of Silverbridge”—abandoned his reckless ways and devoted himself to me. Or so I believed. Then one day, he coaxed me into his Rolls-Royce and captured our tryst on camera. I flushed with embarrassment and secret delight. Later, as I hurried after him to return some documents he had left behind, I heard the sneers whispered in the hallway: “You’re so wild, Emmett. Everyone heard your girl moaning.” “Damn, the car rocked so hard I thought you’d break it.” “Hey, if Franklin Reed ever finds out that his precious niece has been your plaything for three years… think he’ll have a heart attack?”

Domenico Pietro de Cerintti, in the eyes of everyone was the good boy, the sacrificial lamb, the one who attended all the classes and obeyed all the rules, the one who would not let a puppy get run over by a car, the one who didn't have a girl in his bed every Friday night, the one who didn't smirk, the one who girls liked but never wanted, the one who girls used and dumped, the one who wasn't badass. He lived with that image, was content with it even with the bullying until a certain day when they crossed the line, the one line they were never to cross. He disappeared. And appeared months later, in college; the college that had a good percent of his highschool student in attendance; changed, for the worse. Rosetta D'armani, one of his mates in highschool and now his mate in college, who never bullied him but who also never saved him from the bullies. She was, as defined by the male folk, hot, sexy, drool worthy. She saw him on his first day back and lusted after him. She followed him, sought after him, chased after him with every breath in her. He made her lick his heels. After all he was badass now. He smirked now, he had girls in his bed not only every Friday night but every night, the girls wanted him, he used and dumped them now, he was badass. But oh...those bullies didn't know his definition of badass. Badass for him meant revenge. He would revenge on each one of them including his beloved girlfriend. He'd show them just how hot badass burned. One mysterious girl, one desperate girl, one perfect girl and one revengeful boy. ???

My husband insisted that I wear high heels at the company’s annual meeting despite being pregnant. He compared me to his female secretary with a look of disdain. "Can’t you learn from Lucille? She’s eight months pregnant and still comes to work in full makeup, handling her tasks efficiently. If you don’t wear them, don’t go. I’ll be embarrassed!" He even tried to give the high heels to his secretary and take her as his date. Left with no choice, I forced myself to wear them. However, on the balcony, the secretary tripped me, spilling red wine all over me. Limping, I found my husband, only for him to sneer, "Tripping on flat ground? How clumsy!" Furious and pale with anger, I turned to leave. Someone urged him to chase after me, but he only got angrier. "How bad could it be? She’s so timid—she can’t survive without me! Just wait. When the event’s over, she’ll definitely be waiting in the car to drive me home." Alas, he was wrong. I turned and went straight to the hospital for an abortion.

Vad Wagner is the best IIF agent there is for over a decade. However, his work turned him into a prideful man and his heart into stone. He spent half of his life living with criminals that he developed some psychopathic tendencies. His life turned to turmoil when his body swapped with a teenage girl; Kylo a withdrawn, bullied teen. She explored a ritual that opened a door to the mythical world. Now, Vad has to deal with demons in the body of the weak teen girl. How will he be able to handle it? Will the reserved Kylo be able to handle the life and body of Vad? Will Vad’s reputation help her overcome her fears and trauma along the way? How will they come back to their original bodies? How will they take control of a life so different from their own? Join Vad and Kylo, clash it out against the supernatural and their inner battle against themselves. Disclaimer: Credits to the rightful owner of the pic used in my book cover.

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."