Paul Holes Books Novels & Stories

I’m also an author on Plopnow, it’s a kind of interactive app. If you want to read more of my books on this platform, you can search for The CEO’s secret and Beautiful faults. I hope you get to love them. Thank you so much for the support, I’m so grateful. Love always❤️❤️

My hand slid down his chest slowly, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, before boldly palming the growing bulge in his pants. Nate sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ve read your books, Nate,” I whispered, my voice husky and desperate as I stroked him through the fabric. “I know you write about girls who beg to be taken. Who want to be used. Fucked. Ruined…. raped!! I read that chapter so many times I lost count… the one where the man takes her even when she pretends to fight. You can’t lie and say you don’t know some girls crave that.”

'I don't know what I would have done without you this past week, Paul. 'Neither do I,' he retorted ruthlessly. 'So do yourself a favour and sit still.' 'Bully,' Amy muttered, but obeyed. The paper took her through the first two hours. She prolonged the time a little by trying the crossword, but could make no sense of it. And Paul's books were no use; she had already established that his shelves contained nothing but biographies and travel books, neither of which she ever read, some big illustrated books on period furniture, and some heavy stuff about architecture.

Although she felt the need to rest after several hours of searching, however, she figured the books in the shelf appeared scathless and well positioned. “Why put it here when you wouldn't read it.” she spoke under her breath, a flash of curiosity glinted in her eyes as she moved closer to it. After all, Karl was away from home and wouldn't return any time soon. The thought increased her confidence level and in a split second she randomly took out one. ‘Chronicles of torment’ it read, Karl had initially buried its identity among others. Her finger flipped the pages cursorily, only to behold bizarre images of devices used to torture people.

MIGUEL “Pass me that book on the top shelf, Miguel.” Paul pointed to a fat book. His voice was low and a little raspy, like he hadn’t slept much. I hadn’t too. He nodded toward a thick, dusty tome—something that was about Baroque sculpture—and leaned his weight into the table.