Night Shift Secrets Novels & Stories

Catriona I lay there in the dark, still feeling him inside me, his release warm and leaking between my thighs, and the full weight of the truth crashed over me like a tidal wave I couldn’t outrun. This wasn’t a dream. Shawn had been fucking me while I slept. Night after night. Taking my unconscious body for his own release because the system demanded it and I was the safest, most convenient outlet. The vivid dreams that had left me waking up wet and aching, my body craving him so intensely — they hadn’t been dreams at all. They had been real. My subconscious had simply turned his secret violations into erotic fantasies, protecting me from the horror of what was actually happening.

Lip gloss I never wear during the day. I slip out during the night shift change, moving fast and quiet, heart hammering like it’s trying to betray me. By the time anyone might notice I’m gone, I’ll already be gone. After my shift I change into my running shorts and hide my bag along the running trail. By the time I get back the shift has happened so the just assume the former guards let me out. There is just something about beating Lorenzo’s freakishly efficient security that makes me giddy. Tonight I did the same thing.

He entered a long code, leaned forward for the scanner to read his eye. A section of the bookcase, smooth and seamless, slid aside with a soft hiss. Behind it was not a room, but darkness. That's where the secrets actually live," Brian breathed, his tone hushed. "The ones that aren't in the archive. The ones that can bring it all down." He glared at Davidson with an inscrutable look. "The key of irrevocability." He reached out and grasped Davidson's, the one with the watch on which the scars were visible. He moved his fingers over the keypad.

But would I really stop now? Bastorin and Nightshade were full of secrets, layer upon layer. No one showed their true face. Everyone hid something. If I tried to tear down those layers, I didn’t know who would break first. Still, curiosity kept clawing at my chest. Just once, I told myself. One last look. If I found nothing, I’d forget it all. So, I decided to go back to the library at midnight. I waited until Isolde’s quiet snores filled the room, then carefully slipped out of bed. My heart hammered as I opened the door and stepped into the empty corridor. Silence swallowed everything.

But as I looked at the scrolling code on my screen, I saw names—identities—that I had used to move millions of dollars across the globe. *Ava Reed. Seraphina’s Shadow. The Blue Widow. The 7th Child.* My heart hammered. I was a library of secrets I couldn't read. I heard Nathan’s footsteps in the hallway—heavy, deliberate, and weary. I moved with a ghost’s grace, sliding the laptop back into its hiding place and laying back down, pulling the duvet to my chin. The door creaked open. Nathan walked in, the scent of expensive tobacco and cold ozone clinging to his clothes. He didn't turn on the lights. He just stood by the bed, looking down at me in the darkness.

After all, she’d be back tomorrow and we’d simply continue from where we stopped. **** That night, the clock on my phone glowed at 11:17 AM, the only light in my dark bedroom. I lay sprawled on my bed, sheets tangled around my legs. I couldn't sleep. The memory of her muffled moans and the way her pussy had gripped him so eagerly just couldn't leave my head no matter how hard I tried to. My heart was racing and I couldn't lay still. I went to my hidden folder and hit play on one of the numerous sex videos I kept hidden.

The whispers of the Quarter grew louder, more insistent, as if the very walls of the apartment were alive with the secrets they held. The clock chimed midnight, and I knew I wouldn't sleep. I slipped on a pair of boots and a leather jacket, the material comforting against my skin. Grabbing my keys, I made my way down the stairs and into the night, the air thick with the scent of rain and secrets.

When he entered, late and quiet, she didn’t look up. He didn’t speak. He undressed with methodical silence, slid under the covers, and lay on his back, breath shallow. But when he reached out, barely, softly, his fingers brushed hers. A plea. A confession with no words. She didn’t pull away. But she didn’t hold on, either. In the dark, her voice echoed. Soft. Resolute. “I am not your secret.” And somewhere beyond the cliffs, thunder answered. Not loud. Not violent.

"Not coming to what?" Luke Collins had come out of the shower. Droplets slid from his damp hair and vanished into the folds of his robe. The fabric clung to his frame, outlining his toned body. "It's just a party." I hurriedly ended the call, trying to avoid him and leave the balcony. 'Actually, it's my wedding,' I thought. His hand shot out, pulling me gently against him. The familiar warmth seeped through my clothes, stirring an ache in my chest. He chuckled, "Were you talking to Mike? Did you spill our secret?"