Passion Fruit Cookie Run Novels & Stories

At this point, Jamie could barely control the waves of lust that were sailing through him but he grabbed onto the armrest of the sofa, digging his nails into the sleek leather with clenched jaws just to hold back from going to devour her like he wanted to. “Like this, daddy?” Cookie asked in a low voice, sounding as though she was high from the pleasure. Jamie gulped, his eyes still glued to her pussy. “Just like that, doll. Rub that tiny little pleasure nub,” Cookie didn’t need much coercing to dive into it as her middle finger dipped into her slit to gather some wetness before trailing back to her clit and she began rubbing tight little circles on it. Soft urgent moans escaped her lips as

As well as the traditional haupia, a very popular coconut pudding, there was sugar-crumb nut coffee cake, plantation frost, lilikoi (or passion fruit), kahuku water melon and lichi fruit salad, and basque nut biscuits. As Ileana opted for the plantation frost, a delicious concoction of cold, strong-brewed Kona coffee., banana, sugar and vanilla ice-cream, Electra suddenly remembered the letter Matthew Bryant had written to her about a month ago. She’d received it at the office and had simply filed it under personal correspondence. But in it, she was sure he’d mentioned the estate on Molokai! Damn! Even so small and casual a reference might start a man as astute as Hal Courtenay looking away

Xavier's pov “Anything else?” she asked, eyes on me, not the table. I shook my head once. “We’re good.” The waitress hesitated, then smiled wider before walking away, hips swinging like it was part of the job. Mockingbird by Eminem played softly in the background at the bar. Soft yellow lights washed over polished wood and leather seats. Josh sat across from me, one elbow on the table, fingers wrapped around a glass of Macallan 18. Same as mine. The bottle sat between us, already half empty. I hadn’t noticed when the waitress poured the last round. She was good at that.

“Are you heading out?” “No? I came looking for you.” “I need to do another tray of these cookies,” she says. “I’m almost out up front, and they’re a popular seller.” “Cookies,” I say, pinning her with a look. “Cookies,” she replies. “Cranberry macadamia nut with white chocolate. You can try one when they come out of the oven if you want.” Autumn makes a show of evenly spacing each scoop of cookie dough, giving it all her focus like it’s the most important thing she’s ever done. She’s obviously trying to pretend everything is fine, acting cheerful and light, but she still won’t look at me.

“I’m a paying customer.” “He’s getting that to go, Spider,” Mirrie said, ignoring Shane completely. “No, he’s not, Spider.” Mac eyed the pastries piled up in front of him. “Wow. Those smell good. Fresh-baked?” “Yep,” Spider said. “I made ‘em myself this morning. You want something?” “Sure do,” Mac said. “Maybe a few croissants? And a blueberry muffin and… ummm, let’s see… those white chocolate chip cookies look amazing.” He glanced at Mirrie, remembering how much she loved sweet stuff. “Three of those.”

she whispered, arching her hips eagerly toward him. "It’s a dream, my love—because I’m going to make you so happy, it will feel like our greatest fantasy come to life." Fernando unbuttoned Helen’s shirt, revealing her tight, full breasts. He leaned down and took each one into his mouth, running his tongue over her sensitive nipples, making her shiver with pleasure.

A live pasta station stood near the wine bar, where chefs in white toques crafted custom dishes for guests on demand. For drinks, a long mirrored bar was stocked with vintage wines, top-shelf whiskey, and signature cocktails named after the couple—The Sasha (a blend of elderflower liqueur, gin, and white cranberry) and The Mason (bourbon, smoked cherry, and citrus bitters). Silver trays moved through the crowd offering champagne from rare vintages, each flute garnished with a twist of candied orange peel or a floating edible flower. Julia grabbed another drink from one of the waiter’s carrying the silver tray. It was her fourth drink this evening. I arched a questioning brow at her, “are you

The next course—dessert—was ushered in like a grand finale: four selections, each more decadent than the last. First, crème brûlée with a flawless sugar crust that shattered beneath the spoon. Then tiramisu soaked in espresso and layered with mascarpone. Next, Portugal’s pastel de nata, with its crisp puff pastry and custard center. And finally, gâteau fondant au chocolat—a molten chocolate cake that left a trail of silence across the table as everyone melted under its richness. “Okay,” Valentina moaned. “I’m marrying whoever made this.”

Sofia Jones is a seventeen-year-old human who has never met her father. Her mother is never around because she would rather spend her time at the club than with her daughter. She isn't the most popular girl in school and only has one friend, Ella. Sofia has been in love with her best friend's twin brother since middle school, but she knows they can never be together, not only because he is the most popular boy who has been bullying her since freshman year but also because he is her best friends brother. Ethan Black is the most popular boy in school. He is the Quarterback of the football team, and he can have any girl he wants, except for the one he has been in love with since the fifth gr

Angel whimpered. Fuck. The word went directly to his cock. He brought her close, pushing the evidence against her front. Her eyes bulged, and that was when he kissed her. She tasted like the pancakes she made for him the first time at his house. His tongue danced around hers, and his hand wandered down to her back.