Sex And The City Novel Novels & Stories

The SEALs were his life, and although other men had combined the dedication with family, apparently Dix didn't feel he could take the chance. That was okay. She'd taken all her thoughts and feelings and emotions, everything from those exquisite nights they'd spent together, and put it into her new novel. She wrote about a man who thought his commitment to his country left him no room for love and a woman who had no idea what the real meaning of love was. Then they met, and magic happened between them.

A deluge of works scattered throughout the room and hours spent conjuring up concept after concept, yet nothing stuck the way I thought it would. It wasn't that I didn't love every bit of meaning and intention I had put into Femme de Sexe, but a novel inclination that I wanted more than surface-level exploration. There was a personal aspect still missing. Settling on the last piece, a book medium, I found the donation rather peculiar. The only thing that tilted the cover were the words Sine Qua Non in embroidered cursive. Sifting through the pages revealed that it was a journal filled with excerpts and prose, possibly love letters of intimacy exchanged between two people.

In a muffled voice, he said, "Giving flowers is supposed to be something guys do. You did what I wanted to do for you first. What am I supposed to do now?" "I like you, so I wanted to give you flowers. There's no rule about who has to give to whom." Seeing Cora standing before him with flowers first thing in the morning felt unreal to Sebastian. Only when he held her tightly in his arms did that feeling of unreality lessen slightly. Cora ended her travels and decided to stay with Sebastian while he recovered. By the time they returned to Capitoville, it was already winter. Heavy snow had fallen over the northern part of the city.

Marcus on the other side of the wall, running his hand along his length like he said he would. The throbbing between my legs becomes more insistent, and I grab a novel I've been reading, flopping onto the bed and flipping open the book, my eyes landing right on…a sex scene. I slam the book closed. Choosing a romance novel to distract myself is entirely unhelpful.

Never in my wildest thoughts did I imagine my quiet, efficient secretary, the one who always hid behind corporate suits, was actually a sexy hottie who was craving me. I turned to her. Her chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths, her nipples still hard and proud, begging for my touch. It wasn’t my first time with a woman, but it was, without question, the best. And I already knew I wanted more. She caught me staring, and a soft smile curved her lips. “You fuck real good,” she whispered still panting I smirked, my gaze shamelessly glued to her chest. My hand slid over and closed around one perfect peak, teasing and rolling it between my fingers until she gave a sharp intake of breath.

It was another p**n magazine. “Look at the new one I got yesterday, she said. Scooting over to me. She sat close to me, making sure we were touching each other. She opened the magazine and laid it on her lap as she began to flip through a few pages. It was a new lesbian p**n. “So, you like girls on girls” she asked, staring at me. Yeah, I just realized I like girls when I went to college, so tell me how many ladies have you slept with, she asked.

When the woman took off her skimpy bikini revealing her pinkish and perky nipples, Phoenix swallowed an invisible lump in his throat. The air shifted, burning desire started to envelope his senses. He wanted those nipples on the pad of his tongue and he wanted to devour every inch of her breast. For the first time in his thirty years of existence, Phoenix felt an intense desire for a woman. A kind of desire he never felt before. Eve continued to dance on the stage, and when their eyes met, she winked at him. At that moment, Phoenix knew he was doomed. “Damn!” he cursed. He cupped the front of his baggy jeans, he’s housing a massive hard-on in a public place! “This is a fucking disaster!”

***Authors Note*** Hey my lovely readers, so we come to the end of those beautiful steamy short stories. The next stories are still age-gap books, but a little bit longer. Buckle up tight and enjoy every step of the way. XoXo!!! Book title: Do Me Dirty, Mr. CEO. PROLOGUE DAPHNE “I ’m moving to Paris.”

He tips his head back and cries out as I feel the telling jerk as he comes deep inside me. We’re wet with perspiration, and he bends and tenderly takes my lips with his. My heart races out of control as I stare at the ceiling, gasping for air. His head is in my neck, his lips trailing along my collarbone. What the fuck was that? That wasn’t sex …. that was an apocalyptic event. I’m ruined. I open my eyes to darkness; the shimmering lights of New York City illuminate throughout the room. It’s the middle of the night or early hours of the morning, I think. We didn’t shut the drapes before going to sleep.

I knew he was asking silly questions to understand my mood He studied me for a second longer than felt comfortable. Then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” Back to his phone. I looked back at the book. One breath. Two. Three. A woman in London. I thought about every moment I had filed carefully away like something precious. The kitchen floor. The garden. The balcony. All those quiet spaces where I had let myself believe I was being seen, really seen, for the first time in years. And the whole time. The whole time there had been a woman in London.