My Bubbles Novels & Stories

It was an adult site which brought us together. We chatted for a week and finally decided on three nights. Three nights of pleasure — and after that, no contact with each other. But by the third night, I got too addicted to him. To the one, whose name I still don’t know. He was my Mr. Stranger. My match. Even though we decided on three nights, and they were over, I wanted more. But the thing that shocked me was the website that connected us vanished the day after our third night. It’s been two years now, and I’m still unable to forget those three nights. Still looking for him. And then… I found him. The man I gave my body to the one who ruined me so sweetly is now sitting across the table at a family dinner. My Mr. Stranger Now My step-uncle. Was it just a coincidence, or a well-planned event? And how did that website get deleted right after that day? Will I really be able to stay away from the only man I craved for two entire years? Was I the only one feeling this way, or was he no different from me? Did he want me as much as I wanted him? Whatever it was, I was in a deep mess with no way out . warning : this is steamy story.

When Evelyn Foster brought a man home for the ninety-eighth time, I still thoughtfully placed two cups of tea on the nightstand along with three boxes of condoms in different flavors. Seeing how meek I looked, the man let out a scornful snort. "No wonder women all want to marry men like you. Only men like you can put up with this kind of humiliation." I smiled and said nothing. I lowered my head and looked at the message my foster sister Claire had sent five minutes ago. [The family's financial crisis has been resolved. You don't need to sacrifice yourself anymore. Once you divorce Evelyn, we'll get married.] I replied with a single word. [Alright.] Then I had my lawyer draft a divorce agreement and send it to where Evelyn and I lived. I just forgot to tell my foster sister one thing. I would divorce Evelyn. But I would not marry her, either.

At 7am on the dot my alarm rings on my nightstand. After a brief moment of irritation I sprung out of bed to get ready for school. While brushing my long curly ember hair my phone dings incessantly on the bathroom counter. After picking up the phone the dread I already felt in my heart was amplified. It was my best friend Jesse wishing me a happy birthday but I for the life of me couldn’t understand what an 18 year old girl had to be happy about. When a woman turns 18 she is mated for life, she’d be made to quit school, produce children and satisfy their mates every need and urge. That’s all a woman was good for in this town and I’d be damned if I was going to sit down and shut up about it. After ignoring Jesse I finished dressing and strolled down stairs where my mother and father were still having their morning meeting with their subordinates. Alfa John and Luna Kate or not, I’d doubt they’d even notice I was leaving if I hadn’t slammed the door on my way out. I wonder if they were disappointed by my lack of interest of the ways of the pack or if they were just disappointed I didn’t have a penis between my legs. Regardless, I have no intention on going to my mating ball tonight. My parents have invited every male in our pack but there’s no way I was going without a fight! As I lift my fingers from the door handle I come to an abrupt stop eye to eye with my fathers beta Josh. In a low growl all I hear is “You didn’t think you could actually leave did you?”

"Stop…. Ah~" I whimpered, my voice timid as he started kissing my neck. I shivered as his mouth latched on my skin. "I thought we could be friends " He chuckled and brought his mouth up to my ear, nibbling it slowly, "You thought wrong Angel.'' Marilyn Smith is a simple middle class girl . All she sees is the good in people and all he sees is bad. Xavier Bass', the well known 'big bad' of the university hates how sweet Marilyn was with everyone but him. He hates how she pretended to be innocent or how she refused to believe that the world around her isn't only made of flowers and rainbows. In conclusion, Marilyn is everything that Xavier despises and Xavier is everything that Marilyn craves. Xavier is a big bully and Marilyn is his beautiful prey. The tension between them and some steamy turns of events brought them together causing a rollercoaster of emotions between them and making a hot mess . After all the big bad was obsessed with his beautiful prey. Will their anonymous relationship ever take a romantic turn?

The day I died was the same day as my twin sister’s birthday party. She was in tears and was wrapped up in my boyfriend’s arms. My mom was seething with anger and kept calling me over and over again. My brother was clearly upset and sent me a text saying, "You’re so selfish. You just can’t stand to see anyone else happy." Even my usually quiet dad was furious and said, "She’s nothing but an ungrateful brat." I touched my chest. Thankfully, it did not hurt anymore.

My name is Violet. I was the consigliere to the Leon mafia family in New York, and I wrote the rules of this city’s underworld myself. Yet, the man I had kept by my side for ten years, Drake Leon, was now trampling all over them. Ten years was more than enough time for a stray dog to grow into a wolf that can stand on its own. A decade ago, he was hacked to pieces by enemies on the streets of Brooklyn. Covered in blood, he crawled to me like a dying dog. I took him in. I put a gun in his hand. I taught him the rules of the mafia. Step by step, using my position as the Leon mafia family’s consigliere, I groomed him to become the boss of the Manhattan port district. Ten years later, he controlled the most valuable port under the Leon family for me, and for another woman, he framed her in standing grace. When that girl named Lina showed up pregnant, wearing the blue diamond necklace my mother left me, and sat in the seat that was supposed to be mine, I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I had someone take the pathology report from the hospital, along with the child, seal them in a gift box, and deliver them to Drake’s new estate. Half an hour later, the study door was kicked open. He stormed in, drenched in night rain, carrying the scent of gunpowder. The barrel of his gun pressed straight against my forehead. “Violet.” He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.” I stayed seated by the fireplace. I didn’t move. I simply pushed a document to the center of the table. “Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him and continued, “As of fifteen minutes ago, I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two shipping routes, and seven offshore accounts.” Only then did his expression finally change. I smiled faintly, my voice soft. “Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.”

I pushed the door open and saw Giovanna standing there in my silk robe—my gift from Enzo—and wearing my heirloom pendant. She lifted a brow and mocked me, “The robe fits, the pendant’s mine, and you—get out.” I grabbed Enzo, demanding an explanation, but he shoved a fake contract in my face, saying, “You signed it.” “I did not. Stop lying!” I snapped. He snapped at me, “This is family business. You know nothing.” It seemed three years together was nothing but an act. That very night, I ran away to Milan. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to until Mark showed up out of nowhere. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’ve got you. As long as I’m around, no one touches you.” He protected me, and for a moment, I really thought I’d finally found someone I could rely on. However, when we were practicing at the shooting range later, I stared at him. “Why are you helping me?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because of that mess I left behind.” His eyes flickered for a second before he answered, “Just trust me. That’s all you need to do.” Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. This whole disaster was all one giant setup. And now here I am, gripping a gun, fighting for justice, but am I really avenging myself? Or was I already someone else’s pawn from the very beginning?

After three years of marriage, I believed I had the perfect family. My wife, Sarah, was gentle and caring, and our son was bright and adorable. On a rare day when I finished work early, I arrived home to find Sarah asleep, slumped tiredly by the crib. My heart went out to her, and I decided to carry her to our bedroom. As I approached, Sarah's phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared: “Sarah, is our son asleep?"

Book 1: My Badboy Knight Tasha: I should know better than to fall for another guy who might break my heart again. But Nate Adams stormed into my life, crumbling down the walls I began building around my heart. He makes me want to fall in love again. This time, with him. Nate: Tasha Quinn is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Everything about her is beautiful. Hot. Sexy. Perfect. I am fucking in love with her. I have always been in love with her. She is my sweetest addiction. Book 2: The Playboy King Diane: Leo King doesn't give a fuck about love, dating, or any other cupid shit like that. He never lacks enough women to fuck in bed, is annoyingly attractive, and constantly oversteps his boundaries around me. Just because he's the heir to the generational wealth of the King Family doesn't mean he can have any woman at his beck and call. College was supposed to be my chance to start my life afresh, away from my past traumas. But Leo King is making things very hard for me. And living with him is also not helping me at all. Leo: Diane Brandon is the pain in my ass. Ever since she started living with me after my sister Marissa relocated to France, she's been dictating to me how I should live my life in my own house. I hate how she also acts like she is some quiet angel with no demons. But everyone has a skeleton in their closet, whether big or small, and I can feel down to my bones that Diane is hiding something truly dark beneath that cheerful, seductive mask of hers. She is making my life miserable. A little dig-up for payback wouldn't hurt.

My boss, who made me work overtime every single day, finally got what was coming to him. Somehow, he got connected to my new keyboard. It was like he was synced to it. His face flushed red, his eyes brimming with tears. "Don't type anymore," he begged. I just smiled and nudged the mouse. "Don't move the mouse either!" 'Do you expect me to just stop because you said so? Wouldn't that make me look pathetic?' I thought to myself. I kept working until midnight. Just as I was about to leave, I glanced down. The carpet at my boss's feet was soaked through. I figured he must have knocked over his glass of water.