Off Limits Fantasy Novels & Stories

Damon stepped back, like the moment was over. “Be ready,” he said simply. Then he turned and walked away. Leaving me standing there. Heart racing. Mind spinning. And one thought echoing louder than the rest... What exactly was the Forbidden Club? And why did it feel like saying yes… Would change everything?

That minute turned into me sitting on my couch going through the players list, name after name, position after position, until none of it stuck because my brain kept sliding somewhere else. To his hands…His annoyingly perfect abs that I can't seem to get off my mind and to last night, God I feel like a sex freak—with all those images running wildly through my head. I have zero business thinking about that right now. The captain's picture is missing from the file. I noticed it before I left, and didn't think much of it. Every other guy has a photo stapled to his page, some blurry team shot, but the captain's page is just stats, no face, nothing.

He had been her long time crush and finally she had her chance at dating him only to be dumped for a much prettier, hotter blonde senior. Shawn was every high school girls fantasy, his protruding abs would make them crave for a touch, his killer looks got their eyes dizzy at his sight, he was even hotter being the school's baseball captain and he was excellent at the game. Emily had a short lived romance dating the hottest, meanest and popular guy in school and when it ended she as the victim got no sympathy from the masses. Majority of the girls hated her for having Shawn's heart and Bailey was loved for putting an end to it.

“Careful, darling. You’re not untouchable. You think the team will protect you? They won’t. They’ll trade you in a heartbeat if you become a scandal. Your sponsors? Gone. Your captaincy? Gone. You’ll be another fallen star drowning at the bottom of a bottle.” She leaned in, her voice velvet and venom all at once. “And Olivia? She’ll lose everything too. Her job, her license, her reputation. She won’t just be a pariah, she’ll be branded a predator. A pathetic, grasping woman who couldn’t keep her hands off her son’s best friend.” Her words were acid in my veins. I shoved my hands through my hair, pacing two steps away before spinning back. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”

"But I never stopped watching. Never stopped noticing. And when Brandon came into your life, I hated every second of it." "You paid him off. You paid him to leave me alone." "Two years ago, yes. He was showing signs of control issues. I offered him money to relocate." My hands clenched. "It worked for a while. But then you broke up with him, and he came back." "Because the money ran out."

A man who had done nothing except remind me, over and over again, that there were lines we couldn’t cross. I let out a shaky breath. It was stupid. So unbelievably stupid. I wasn’t his. I never could be. I was his daughter’s best friend. His best friend’s daughter. Someone he had probably spent years looking after. Nothing more. And the way he’d pulled away replayed in my mind like a punishment. So quickly. So instinctively. As though the very thought of kissing me had been wrong. Forbidden. I wrapped my arms around myself. “I can’t do this again,” I whispered, shaking my head in disappointment.

I muttered, turning my back on him. "If either of you fails to show up, or if I hear a single word of complaint, you’re off the active roster permanently," Matteo said, his voice completely unyielding. "I don't care who you are, Rowan. And I don't care how many points you scored last season, Wesley. Show up, or turn in your jerseys." Without waiting for either of us to answer, Matteo turned around and walked out of the locker room, the door clicking shut behind him.

But right now all I could think about was how his smile didn't quite reach his eyes the way Kian's had, how his voice didn't have that rough edge that Matteo's carried, how nothing about him made my pulse race or my breath catch. He was nice and friendly and handsome, every woman's dream really, successful and charming and clearly interested based on the way he kept finding reasons to lean closer. But he wasn't mine, could never be mine, because I didn't do office romance and I definitely wasn't ready for any kind of romance period. Besides, he was Damien's second in command, practically my direct supervisor, and getting involved with him would be professional suicide. "The exposure is defin

How can we put an end to this if we don’t stay away from each other? We were not in any kind of relationship, but when I write my diary entry that night, it feels like I’ve been jilted. I strike through the whole entry, determined not to let him mar my sexy fantasies. Just because I stopped acting on these fantasies doesn’t mean I can’t write them. This time, I’m writing from experience. When Rhys touches me in my fantasies, I feel his touch as though it were real, the scent of his skin when he embraces me so unadulterated that the lines between imagination and reality start to blur.

The room registered it the way rooms registered unexpected honesty. Then Ortega stood up. Second year linebacker. He'd said approximately twelve words all season in any team context. He was not a speaker. He was a player, the kind who communicated on the field and let the field be the whole of it. He stood up. He said: "I don't care what anyone does off the field. Reyes wins us games. Whitfield wins us games. That's my whole position." He sat back down. The room was quiet for a second.