Patched Pants

All her life, Octavia had endured one form of abuse to another. From a father who hated her guts and blamed her for the death of his wife, to the mob boss who was supposed to be her knight in shining armor. Octavia is ready to cross love off her list when life throws her the mysterious Giovanni heir. A bad boy who would do anything to get in her pants, piss her off and still manage to be charming about it. What happens when love falls into the forbidden mix? When life tosses her into a web of secrets and betrayal, will she be able to hold on to this bad boy or lose him in her quest to hurt those who caused her pain?

Eventually, Asher stopped singing when he saw the woman standing in front of him, and the band stopped playing as well. He thought it was just one of his admirers or fans. He glanced at the crushed woman who was unable to stand. He wore a casual black shirt and pants, his hair was long, his skin was white, and surprisingly one basic. He even leaned in closer to her before speaking. "Hello ! I know you, those face-cheating ladies! Haya said aloud. "What?" Asher asked in shock. "You attractive men always harbor false desires for women, later on time they have passionate feelings for you, you will go! You are so awesome! You dare!" Haya shouted angrily. "Come on Haya" Tora shouted, as he tried to grab Haya by the arm, but Haya went wild.

The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected. "Who, who, who are you?" She became a heavy stutterer in an instant. The man who stood at the door to the kitchen walked forward and the light illuminated his features. He was lean and tall, very tall. Dressed in a white long sleeved shirt and dark suit pants, the few exposed parts of his body were ashen, lifeless and cold, like a bleak winter day. "Marry me." These were the two words that came from the deathly pale lips of his emotionless face... ********** Moving away from her overprotective parents, Geneva thought that she could finally lead a stress-free life. This was ruined when a ghost demands intimacy with her, his soulmate, to recover his lost memories and body.

Damn, you're delicious," he murmured into her mouth. "You taste like a goddess." She heard the sound of his belt buckle, and her frantic heart stopped because she knew what was coming. "Damn, I need to be inside you," he declared with a hint of desperation that she loved. She reacted and helped him free himself from his pants because she needed it, too, and she needed it now. But when his member was finally free, and she felt him position himself, his gaze wandered for a moment to a spot behind them. It was only for a second, but that second was enough to see how the entire expression on his face transformed. The desire froze, and instead of the fiery, passionate man from a moment ago, he was that block of ice he usually was again. He took two steps back and looked down. She sat up, confused. "What's wrong?" she asked, baffled. He tensed his jaw and shook his head while zipping up his pants again. A whirlwind of emotions crowded her chest and got stuck in her throat. "Enzo," she called out, but he didn't respond. He bent down to pick up his shirt and walked toward his room without looking at her. "Enzo!" she yelled, but he ignored her and entered his room, slamming the door. She was left on the island, naked, not understanding anything. All the fire went out, giving way to a sadness that settled in her heart. He rejected her. Enzo rejected her. After his wife’s death, Enzo Romano swore his heart was buried with her. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable. But when duty forces him into a contract marriage with innocent Arianna, the girl who secretly adores him, she finds herself falling for a man who will never love her back.

In my final year of high school, my parents died, leaving me nothing but a crumbling brick house. And yet, I somehow got myself a younger brother. He was a second-year student at our school, at the top of his grade. But no one respected him. Even when he was bullied, the teachers turned a blind eye. Why? Because even if others didn't beat him, his drunken father did it every day, while his cowardly mother never dared to fight back. I dragged him home with all my strength, patched up his wounds, and kept him with me for several days. Later, when his mother was beaten to death, I called the police and had his father arrested. "Hey," I told him, "from now on, live with me. I don't have any family left. Call me sister, and I'll put you through school." He dreamed of getting into a prestigious university. So I dropped out, set up a street stall, sold my own blood, and even took illegal jobs just to support him. When he graduated, he said he wanted to start a business. I gave him every cent of my savings. And then one day, I watched him stand beneath the dazzling lights, a radiant girl at his side, holding a trophy for a youth entrepreneurship award. I looked down at the cancer diagnosis in my hands. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. In the end, I had raised him into someone I could no longer reach. It was time for me to leave the stage.

Andreas Sanders daringly returned to Ashford City in order to escape from his engagement party that was to be held in Paris. He would never accept an arranged marriage that would clearly trap him further in his own family's game. Therefore, he realized that there was only one thing to do now. That is to secure a beneficial marriage. Love and fairy tales were unnecessary. The only thing Andreas needed was an intelligent woman who could engage in mentally stimulating debates with him. Luckily, Andreas found her in the form of his friend's secretary. She was tall and elegant, dressed in a tailored suit with long pants, supported by seven-centimeter-high heels, with wavy hair, red lipstick, and, of course, a sharp tongue. A truly perfect combination. The woman that Andreas desired. Vlora Anderson. * 2nd book of seri 'The CEO'

Harry at long last quit singing when he saw the lady remaining before him, and the band additionally quit playing. He thought it was only one of his admirers or fans. He took a gander at the smashed lady who lacked the ability to stand up still. She was wearing a free dark shirt and pants, her hair was long, white skin and with a basic wonder. She even ventured nearer to him prior to talking. "Hello you! I know you, that such face misleading ladies!" said Arosh uproariously. "What? “Harry asked in shock. "You attractive men continuously carry bogus desire to ladies, then when they experience passionate feelings for you, you will leave! You are so terrible! You are bold!" Arosh yelled irately. "Come on Arosh" Fanky yelled, as she attempted to hold Arosh by the arm, yet Arosh went wild. "No, I will seek retribution on this moron!"

“I wanted you since the first time I saw you in that lingerie,” he said, his voice low and rough. “It’s been making me go crazy.” I should’ve been thinking clearly, figuring out if he suspected me. But I wasn’t. I was too busy pulling down his pajama pants, needing to feel more of him. He stood up just for a second to take them off, and then he was fully naked. He looked even hotter than I imagined—muscular but not bulky, with a line of dark hair going down to his hard length. He grabbed my panties and pulled them down my legs. Then he got on top of me again, his warm skin touching mine. He kissed me hard as he got between my legs.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

I'm a succubus who gathers energy by clearing System missions, adept at the game of love. One day, right after completing a honey trap mission, I was sent to a SSS-level horror game at the very next second. The boss was invincible and bloodthirsty, watching coolly as other players rested in pieces before turning to the rest of us. "Now choose—how do you want to die?" While other players were wetting their pants and trying to find a loophole to survive, I picked up on something different. A handsome, powerful target beneath that cold, horrific exterior. Hence, when he reached me, I smiled enigmatically as I told him my wish. "I wish to be conquered by a truly powerful Entity, dominated from soul to flesh, and to die in pure ecstasy." I watched him pause in shock and added, "Oh, and you must do it yourself."