Romance Books With Jealousy Novels & Stories

Jeff unconsciously pulled a chair and sat in front of Deen. "Romance story." Deen's cheeks flushed, realizing that she was being stared at by a very handsome man, with light brown eyes and messy hair that looked very seductive. But then she hardened her heart. The more handsome a man is, the more dangerous he is, she muttered to herself. “Romance? And it looks like you are running out of ideas? " How does this man know? Deen shrugged, "The main characters in my story hate each other, and I feel a strong urge to leave it like that."

“Double-check it.” “Yes… sir,” I whispered. But my eyes were locked on his profile. I couldn’t look away. Not now. Not ever. There was a tension in the room that went beyond work. It was electric, suffocating, and utterly irresistible. Every time I looked up, he caught my eyes and held them just a fraction too long. Every time I tried to focus, he distracted me without even speaking. I hated it. And I loved it.

he remarks, his tone almost intrigued. A bitter laugh escapes me. "You haven't been around me enough to see anything." He nods slowly, acknowledging my point. "But if I had, would I have seen this side of you?" I shake my head, unable to deny the truth. "No," I admit reluctantly, the weight of my emotions heavy on my shoulders. Leaning forward, he probes further. "So what is it about this woman that has you so jealous and possessive, especially when you have one of the most beautiful women in New York wearing your ring?"

I added to see the annoyance which hatched on her face. I removed the contact I had from her breast before turning around. I walked into my closet, taking out a shirt. She wasn’t going to give up that easily, I thought finding her following me into the closet. Her tits out in the open, having her more sexy and my poor cock was hurting and pleading to get out. “You can’t marry her Diego and I won’t allow you either.” Finally, she was stating what she wants. I wasn’t shocked. We had it in our blood to be a bit jealous and that jealousy drives into something insane. It turns into obsession.

The more I stared, the more my heart fluttered and my stomach got filled with a funny feeling. I was confused as I started to feel congested. “What are you doing to me?” I whispered and rolled on my back, facing the ceiling. Can I love her without hurting her? Can I love her without making her cry? I wanted her to be with me, only me. Sandy was mine and mine alone and just the thought of someone else taking her away from me because of my stupidity set my heart on fire with jealousy. I was hers and she was mine, I wanted it to be that way forever. Heck, I didn’t even want the damn divorce but the question filling my head again were; Could I make her happy by loving her like a man would love a

I try to tell myself it’s over. But deep down, I know it isn’t. Not with him. Not with that night. Not with the way he makes me feel. And I know, without looking, that this tension, this dangerous pull, is far from over. The next morning, Anastasia was here. Roman’s fiancée. The thought alone made my stomach twist in ways I hated to admit, even to myself. I tried to reason with it. I tried to tell myself that she was just someone else, a stranger, a girl who would never mean anything to me. But seeing her name on the guest list, imagining her presence in the same space as Roman… I couldn’t stop the bitter spike of jealousy that hit me like a cold blade.

I heard Dante laugh and a deadly possessive growl worked its way up to my chest but I checked it in time and let my legs take me towards the direction of the laughing voices. A tide of jealousy surged in my chest when I saw Dante pinned by another handsome Beta wolf on a motorcycle and the two of them fraternizing with each other. He was MY MATE. Grrrrr. “C’mon, Dante,” the other dude, Chester laughed as he pressed himself further against the writhing wolf under him so that the latter did not escape. I could feel my stomach tangle in enough knots to make a twisted pretzel as jealousy was starting to graduate into hate for the unknown, charming stranger.

What gave him the right to dictate who I could or couldn't be with? The memory of that burgundy lace made jealousy flare hot and vicious in my chest again. I pictured Dante with some faceless woman, his hands on her body, his mouth on her skin, and the image made me want to scream. Or break something. Preferably over his perfect, arrogant head. "It's not fair," I whispered, sinking onto the edge of the bed, consumed with jealousy over women he'd been with before he even knew I existed. A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “Oh, please. That woman is practically throwing herself at him. If I were you, I’d remind her who’s really in charge.” Amelia leaned in, her voice conspiratorial. “Maybe Roman likes the attention. You know how men are.” My patience snapped, and I shot them a glare. “He’s not interested in her,” I said firmly, though I couldn’t shake the burning feeling of jealousy crawling up my spine. They exchanged amused glances before Janice added, “Well, if you’re so sure, then there’s no harm in going over there and… staking your claim.”

Every muscle in her body tensed, a quiet storm of jealousy and possessiveness brewing just beneath the surface. What caught me off guard, though, was Jane’s reaction. Our connection was supposed to be nothing more than a seven-day contract, seven days of obligation, heat, and tightly controlled desire. Yet the jealousy radiating off her was fierce, sharp, raw, impossible to ignore. It struck me like fire, quick and consuming, igniting every nerve in my body.