Perfect Strangers Novels & Stories

It stopped ringing as I made to pick the call. “15 missed calls?” “Holy Molly!” I looked at my side, only to see the sleeping figure of a man, half-covered by the sheets, his back to me. He had a beautiful tattoo on the upper part of his left arm. I couldn't see his face. I tried to recollect what transpired between us, and the memories of last night came rushing back. The club, my friends, the drinks, the bar, the kiss, the hotel. Then the…. “Oh, shit!” I freaked out as I realized what I had done. I slept with a stranger, thinking it was Fred?

A matte-black bespoke suit set off his cold, upright frame, strands of silver-gray hair falling over his brow, his features aloof and severe, the whole of him wrapped in the distance and indifference of a man at the very top. His deep-set eyes settled heavily on me, filled with impatience, something tangled I couldn't name, and a flicker of hesitation that was gone in an instant. "Layla." His voice was low and cold, weighted with the pressure of a man looking down from above. "Where have you been these three years?" I froze for a beat, then couldn't help the sneer. "What's this? Is Don Perrone hoping to catch up on old times?" Eli drew a deep breath, looking utterly helpless.

. This definitely doesn't look good.I wipe my sweaty palms on a napkin, get up and walks over to where they stand. When I get there Rea turns and gives me a grin. "Oh you're here, I guess you've finally decided to give him the number yourself". I freeze, I was definitely not expecting this. She hands me the piece of paper. "Okay, I'll be at our table waiting for you alright". She gives me a hug and whispers. "Best of luck". I couldn't even get a word out and she leaves. I actually wish for the ground to open up and do it's 'thing'. "Hi". A soft masculine voice calls out to me. I look at him. Damnit, how is it possible that he's hotter than before. I drink in his masculine features for the

I felt like I could no longer hold back as the tingling sensation continued to escalate. “Why hasn’t she picked up the phone yet? I need to turn it to turbo mode.” That fool had not noticed that his girlfriend had been pinned down on the ground a short distance away. The vibration escalated. I felt a wave of warmth course through me. Inside the haystack, the man was focused on what he was doing, as though determined to explore every hidden corner. Just a few meters away, Samuel continued to pace back and forth. The situation only made me feel even more nervous.

‎ ‎The furniture was near and cold, like it was placed to be look at. ‎ ‎A stranger was sitting on a chair, closer to my bed. Leaning on the chair as if he owns the hotel. He was watching me and relaxing in a way that made my heart beat faster. ‎ ‎He looked awake. ‎ ‎Too awake. ‎Like he was waiting for me to wake up. ‎ ‎" who are you" I ask my voice being low. ‎ ‎He raised his eyebrows sightly, you don't remember. ‎ ‎I swallowed and pushed myself up, they movement sent headache to my head and body pain to my body. My body felt sore in a strange way, the memories of yesterday's sex came rushing in my head.

Not into darkness. Into the field itself. Emma took a slow breath. She reached toward the stranger's hand. Just before their fingers touched— every heartbeat beyond the horizon stopped. Perfectly. Simultaneously. Not from fear. Not from danger. From anticipation. The stranger's peaceful expression changed for the very first time. Its eyes lifted toward something far beyond the countless waiting silhouettes. Something even they had not expected. When it spoke again... Its voice carried a note Emma had never heard before. Astonishment.

"But... I appreciate that you said it." Bianca reached for the agreement. "Let's go through the rules." Together, they read every page. No romantic expectations. No physical intimacy unless necessary to maintain appearances. No interfering in each other's private lives and absolute honesty if either of them wanted to end the agreement early. Shared appearances whenever their families requested them. When they reached the final page, Ethan handed her a pen. She signed first. He signed beneath her name. The sound of the pen scratching across the paper seemed unusually loud. It was done.

" He ordered politely with an aura of authority. She stood, trembling on both legs as she stared at his deep brown eyes assessing her with a firm face. "Striscia! (*Strip!!)" She kicked off her sneakers and started working on the buttons on her tartan checked patterned shirt. She gives him her back as she unsnaps her bra. "Now I want to see. Turn back around. Show me!" She turned around nervously with her eyes closed as she began to remove her bra slowly, feeling her tits spring out. She removed her belt and moved down her denim jeans, freeing her pretty legs completely from it as it dropped on the floor.

And then, in the crowd, I noticed them. Two men sat in the far corner near a fogged-up window. One—warm, smiling, undeniably Indian—sipped his tea with an easy air of belonging. The other, however, was different. Taller. Sharper. His chestnut hair splaying on his forehead, his deep blue ocean like eyes held a depth. His gaze wasn’t casual; it was consuming. He wasn’t just listening—he was searching, as though my song was a riddle only he could solve. They were tourist from foreign countries. The smiling one nudged him playfully, murmuring something, but the taller man didn’t flinch. His eyes stayed locked with mine. For a heartbeat, I forgot the café, forgot my uncle, forgot survival. It fel

The sound of shattering glass cut through the private lounge, silencing the laughter and noise instantly. Embarrassed, Lewis Carter, the man who had demanded a kiss sneered darkly. "Ethan Graves, what’s this? You get a kiss, but I don’t? What, is Victoria your wife or something?" Victoria Hale glanced at Ethan with pleading, pitiful eyes. The air grew so tense that everyone seemed to hold their breath. After all, everyone knew that Ethan Graves was long since married and famously henpecked.