Oh No He's Hot Novels & Stories

My eyes widened when I opened the door. I saw Damien! And the worst part — he was shirtless! I stood frozen as he was not facing me, he was looking in the opposite direction. But I guess my shaking breath made him realize my presence and he turned around. As he looked at me, and I looked at his abs — gosh, I swear I stopped breathing for the longest time I ever had. He was so freaking hot! “Well, you were the one who objected to ogling each other.” I looked at him and as I interpreted his words, my face turned completely red due to embarrassment. He smirked. “Well?”

He's so cold, and he doesn't care about other people's feelings. He's hurting me… ********

Something definitely good. “I have your hotline so I’ll be in touch with you,” he says just as I stand up to my feet. “Hmph, I’ll be banking on that,”

It's mine. Oh, my gosh! No!

Hehe ;) . #TBC

Nah! All Hearts!!

I scoffed. “That is not it,” he bit out. I stared at him — confused, annoyed, hurt. And warm. Too warm with him this close. He stopped a step away and tilted his head back, running his fingers through his hair. My eyes dropped to his throat. Biteable. I shook my head. I could not be attracted to two male necks in one night. “You’re so fucking innocent,” he whispered. His eyes softened for a fleeting second before they blanked out. “And you should remain like that.”

“And you have ‘revenge’ written all over that red dress. But a hundred dollars won’t buy a man like me. Not for the night.” Heat flooded her cheeks, humiliation, bright and vicious, finally overtaking the numb armor she’d worn since George walked out. She lunged for the bill, fingers trembling with the need to snatch it back and flee. Before she could close the distance, his hand came down over hers. Palm to knuckles. Skin searing. Grip like black velvet stretched over iron. “However,” he continued, voice dropping even lower, eyes locking onto hers with a gleam that was equal parts hunger and amusement, “I find I’m bored tonight. And I find your little architectural critique of my brother’s

“Shit. He’s coming. Act cool.” “I’m not cool.” “Too late. We’re doing this.”

I reflect while watching him cool in actual virtue. “He looks so innocent, one wouldn't believe he could be so hot in the other room” Wearing a naughty smile I gape at him. “Is anything the matter, do you have something to say” Oops!! “No no, I have nothing to say actually, I just reflected on something” I begin to adjust myself as soon as I learn he's taking Every detail of my mood. Contemplating whether to tell him about the conspiracy of his friend and his “acting mom” or to engage him about the one-night stand at the party, I'm lost in thought again.