Mature Novels & Stories

Mason retorted arrogantly. "That might be true for some, but not for me. I’m too old for such relationships. I prefer men who are mature and stable." I could sense that Mason, accustomed to attention for his wealth and looks, was not used to being turned down. My rejection seemed to take him by surprise. "Mature, you say? Like my cousin, who’s thirty but always has a poker face and is cold to pretty girls? Is that your idea of maturity and stability?" Mason asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

Miral muttered and got into her car. It was 11:30 at night when Miral got out of her car, holding a beer bottle and entered the house. Sakshi was in the living room and she noticed Miral. She quickly walked towards her and held her hand. "Miral? You're drunk? Again?" She questioned in an irritated voice. "Mumma! Chill. I just had a pint. It doesn't affect me, I am still in my senses," Miral replied. "Why do you drink so much?" Sakshi spoke in an irritated tone.

I fancied I could almost taste it's tangy taste on my tongue. Finally, three dark blue SUVs pulled into the driveway and I could see them from my vantage point where I was staring at the window, wringing my clothes between my fingers. My mother gasped audibly and Agatha made a sign of cross. Even my father looked mildly impressed. A shocked expression was written over Marcus face and Theophilus actually smiled. It was a smile of admiration. I think deep down in all of our hearts_jaded or not_we all think they wouldn't go through with this plan.

Turning around to face him, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Look, it seems you don't know a thing about werewolf stuff, so let me educate you. Eighteen is not a child, it's a fruitful age. When she-wolves turn eighteen, they can find their mate and bear a pup. Child wouldn't do that, right? So again, I'm not a child, I'm an adult." He copied my stance, crossing his arms on his chest and my eyes betrayed me for looking at his biceps as it tightened. Damn, why does that look so good?

He stopped without looking at her. "And what?" Emma prompted. "And mature," Marcus finished quietly. "Far more mature than you have any right to be at eighteen." The word hung in the air between them. Mature. Emma went very still. Marcus heard her sharp intake of breath, felt the shift in the atmosphere like the change in air pressure before a storm. "Say that again," Emma whispered. Marcus turned to face her, confused by her reaction. "What?" "You think I'm mature," Emma said slowly, her eyes locked on his. "Not young. Not naive. Not a child.

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“My God, I don't think I've played that game since college, and frankly I'd like to keep it that way because some memories should remain buried.” “Perfect,” Maddie declared, pointing at him as though he'd accidentally strengthened her argument. “The greatest tragedy of adulthood is that everyone eventually convinces themselves they've become mature, emotionally evolved, and far too sophisticated for bad decisions, when in reality most people desperately need to do something stupid every once in a while for the sake of their mental health.”

Zared raised his brows in surprise as she spat her reply. "You're not a kid? is that what you think? that you're so old and mature? " "I am, I know I'm just 18 but I know everything, I am mature enough" "Mature.... enough? What is mature enough? " "Like older people, people your age, they're mature enough and I am too" "Do you know what maturity is Lily?" Zared asked squinting his eyes a bit. "I do" "That's great" Zared wore a proud expression mockingly.

her mum said in an excited tone. Arlene turned the volume up to the loudest and they kept up with their mini karaoke which was pretty much loud, because people on the road started to look at them. But then none of them cared, to Arlene her mum was a vibe and not like the regular southingham mothers who were boring and lame. These were the moments she lived for, there was never a dull moment with her mum even though they had little cat fights, but it was normal with females. “Do you think dad would be back from work by now?” Arlene asked her mum who was still caught up in the blues of the music playing.

“What’s made the difference?” “I have no idea what happened between 1977 and now.” He shook his head as though still not believing so much time had passed. “But if we’re mates, it makes sense that you would feel so passionately for me.” “And I do.” He fixed me with those amber eyes and leaned in so close that I could smell his cedar and woodsmoke scent through the strawberry steam. I lost myself in warm caramel irises infused with shards of molten gold. Running through the irises were tiny flecks of yellow that darkened as they reached a thick ring of umber that melded with his lashes.