Nick X Ellis Novels & Stories

He winks at me then takes a sip from his solo cup. Love. Why did that nickname sound so sweet and intoxicating coming from his lips? Why am I sitting in the corner of someone else’s living room having a drink at a party with Ellis Lockwood? Another guy from the hockey team sees Ellis and comes over, handing him a beer. Ellis sets the beer down and I take that moment to grab it, wanting to feel that burning liquid stream down my insides again. Ellis stands and daps him. “Rog. Hey man.” Ellis says, positioning himself in front of me.

I say, " Yh Mr. Miller put so much effort in all his clubs"she says " Who is Mr. Miller?" " You don't know him. Mr. Nickolas Miller is the most eligible bachelors in the USA. He owns this club and some many other businesses. He is the only son of the Elite Millers" she rants "Where is he. Will he here today?" I asked. "Nope. He is on a vacation with his family and wife" she says

Towering like door gods, they were in an all-black tight-fitting suit with matching black glasses and guns tucked in their waist. So when a group of bodyguards appeared from a luxurious van and opened its door before the formed a neat line to welcome the immerging figure, Nexus’ bodyguards rushed to encircled Nexus who remained indifferent as he continued walking. Not until he heard Jaxon Elijah’s voice instructing his assistant. He stopped, looked back, and saw him. Their eyes met…then there was silence. “Why are you here?” Jaxon Elijah, known by the high society as someone who would not blink an eye even if the world ended around him, came off aggressively this time.

“I share this office with Sal. We’re investigating these attacks together, so she asked me to sit in on her meetings today.” “Of course,” I said, not really sure what I should say to that. “I’m Ellis – Ellis Nakai. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective.” D.I. Griff Wallis was older than Sally, his back hunched in its beige jacket, and his shirt buttoned up a little too high, so that his jowls bunched up underneath his doughy chin. But his rheumy eyes were kind, and old – the sort of old that looked as though they’d seen too much of the world, and they were tired.

All because of Nick. He is therapy.

That laugh was way too smug. “Nothing.” He glanced at me with a half-smile. When I finished my steak, Nick casually pushed a piece from his own plate onto mine. “Try mine.” The tension between us had eased. The restaurant atmosphere turned unexpectedly warm and cozy. Just then, Nick’s phone rang. It was Vic. “What is it?” Nick picked up, his voice deep and composed. “Mr. Johnson,” Vic said respectfully, “our team found Eli in Australia.” Nick nodded slightly, voice calm. “Did you find out who sent him?”

I suggested that we go find Atticus and Axel to tell them we were going to the pack house. We went back inside and I frowned seeing Atticus standing in his living room shaking off snow. Raising my brow I growled, “You took Axel back and I didn't get to tell him goodbye?” “There was an emergency with Nick; he was injured and his mate said that the Alpha was needed.” Panicked, I grabbed his upper arms and shook him. “Take Me back immediately!” Ellis told Atticus he was going to come with me. “Better dress warmly and wear a stocking hat to cover your obnoxious ears,” Atticus snapped.

I hid Xiamond from Justin, meeting him as Elise Carter, a coder with bite. His hazel eyes cut through me, his navy blazer sharp in the bar’s violet haze. “Elise Carter, coding prodigy,” he said, sliding bourbon my way, voice smooth as sin. “Nexus needs your fire.” I tossed my hair, scars buried. “Not tech-bro bullshit, is it, Drake?” We sparred for hours—his Nexus encryption dreams, my firewall designs, our hunger for control. “You see the game like me,” he said, his touch sparking heat. In his Tribeca loft, his lips scorched my throat, hands tearing my dress, our bodies colliding on leather. “You’re electric, Elise,” he growled, claiming me. “Be mine.” I fell hard, whispering, “I’m yours,”

“Flattery won’t distract me from the fact that some meathead tried to start World War III over a birthmark. Do you know that asshole? The tall one with the permanent scowl, Jax something?” Elias snorted, popping a piece of gum into his mouth and chewing it with deliberate nonchalance as he flicked through his phone at a red light. The screen glowed with notifications, messages from teammates congratulating them again on Nationals qualification, a few sponsor inquiries, and the usual flood of fan edits from their regional win. “Eww, where would I know that prick from? He’s probably one of those guys who peaked in junior league and now compensates by bullying anyone who doesn’t bench-press the