Slipping Away Novels & Stories

Something like a laugh escapes my lips as his growl rumbles through the small field, his paws vibrating the ground behind me as he tries to catch up. I can feel Slade's large frame gaining on me, quivering from his powerful aura, not in fear but excitement. His shoulders align with my hind legs. Using his mouth to grab my hand leg, he causes me to trip and stumble on my feet. Using this to his advantage, his large frame tumbles to the ground with me.

They are both satisfied that night until they rest. Shadows crept steadily around the corner of Rhoda's parents' room upstairs, hiding the faces. The movements were slow and deliberate, his steps slow and silent. Rhoda's cousins could feel his entire body stiffen, and he wanted to run, but his two feet would not obey his will, as if he was frozen on the spot.

Kael’s gaze shifted to the horizon, where the mist began to move, not away, but toward them. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Bound means it can’t escape.” He watched the shadows ripple like waves across the gray expanse. “Contained means it’s waiting.”

Not now. She needed space. She needed to clear her head. Without saying a word, Mae slipped out of the room and into the corridor. The ship was bustling with the preparation for their departure, but Mae was determined to take a moment for herself. The cool air of the hallway was a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the room, and she welcomed the isolation. She moved toward the exit, her steps slow but purposeful, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts she couldn’t keep still.

Really? I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My throat tightened, making it impossible to form words, and a sudden, overwhelming urge to escape, to simply disappear, consumed me. So, without saying a word to anyone, without a backward glance, I quietly slipped away from the party. I walked straight out of the bar, and went directly home, seeking the familiar, comforting solace of my small, quiet room. I wasn’t in the mood for any of this shit.

Desperate, she grabbed his pant leg and pleaded, "Les, don't… I love you so much! Please forgive me! I'll go far away. I'll never appear in front of you and Natalie again!" Hearing Natalie's name, Lester let out a cold snarl and slapped her hard. "You don't get to say her name! And as for asking for forgiveness… Tell that to your fans!"

Starving. She slipped away from her cheering squad with a quick excuse about congratulating the team. No one questioned the head cheerleader. Her short pleated skirt swished against her ass as she hurried through the tunnel toward the boys’ locker room, her perky tits bouncing with every eager step. By the time she pushed open the heavy door, the air was thick with the scent of sweat, victory, and raw male energy.

At the company's tenth-anniversary celebration, my wife's male secretary was in charge of the raffle. When it was time for the grand prize, he somehow drew his own name. My wife asked him what he wanted, and he pointed at the watch on my wrist. I flatly refused. How could a personal belonging be used as a prize? But the male secretary turned to my wife and whined, "That watch is a limited edition. There's only one in the world." My wife signaled for me to give the watch to him. I argued my case, but my wife slapped me across the face instead. "It's just a watch. Don't ruin the mood of the anniversary celebration." I smiled, took off the watch, and handed it to her secretary. It was

a guard stammered. "Someone just vanished from under my nose, and you're telling me no one saw her?!" Elio kicked over a nearby antique vase, shattering it. His chest heaved violently. "Find her! Lock down every exit! I don't care if you have to turn this city upside down, find her!" In the chaos, no one noticed Ava standing in a corner, her head bowed as a quick, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips. Elio stood stiffly in the empty corridor, the plate of exquisite cannoli still in his hand. The rich, sweet scent now smelled like a resounding slap in the face.

The scent of her jasmine perfume still lingered in the air, a cruel taunt. In Zurich, he reached a train platform just as the doors hissed shut, catching a glimpse of a familiar profile through the glass—but the train surged forward, leaving him alone on the cold concrete. She wasn't just hiding, she was escaping him over and over again. By the third winter, the unshakable Ethan Morgan of the Morgan empire finally cracked. The frantic travel, the skipped meals, and the unrelenting guilt manifested in a collapse during a board meeting. The diagnosis was a cocktail of exhaustion, a neglected respiratory infection, and a heart that seemed to be simply giving up.