Sweet Silver Bells Pentatonix Novels & Stories

She sipped on her cocktail and continued with her explanation. "That said, we have millionaires and billionaires as clients here Lorraine. That's why we keep it close. There are no sluts, whores, nor strippers in our list of sugar babies, almost all of them are socialites just like yourself. Most will want to have sex with you. While the older daddies, usually just want the companion of a beautiful young woman by their side. Just because they can. As for boundaries of sex, that's for you and your sugar daddy to talk about, and will remain private amongst you both." My turn on sipping my cheap soda. But she quickly ordered my favorite vodka cherry. "It's on me, just because you took your time

"Good evening, guys." "Ms. Reyes." The men greet her with a nod while they unhook the red velvet rope from the security bars so we can pass. "You know them?" Marta asks, getting ahead of me. "Didn't you mention it was new?" The noise inside was loud; people dancing on the floor, moving their bodies to the rhythm of electronic music. Susan ignores us and heads to the bar, where a cute bartender of average height, wearing a white hat tilted to the side, a black sleeveless shirt, and a rag over his left shoulder, chats with customers while pouring drinks. Susan leans over the counter and motions for him to come over; the man smiles and signals with his hand for her to wait a moment. Marta and I

he chuckled as he asked her. “I heard,” Scar said. “Mouse, this is more like an audition than anything else.” He said softly. “An audition for what?” she asked as she looked around. “To find the perfect baby.” He said. “What?” She asked as she met his eyes. “Your friend must be one if she was able to get you in here. It is a closed event.” He said. “A baby, you know sugar, baby.” “A sugar baby?” She asked. “Sweetheart, you know nothing about any of this, do you?” he asked, taking in her wide eyes.

The back of her head had hit the ground, and dark red blood was slowly spreading out, seeping toward my knees where I knelt. "Help… Someone, please save her…" I sobbed, my voice breaking. The more I begged, the deeper the pain cut because I knew Britney was most probably gone.

Neither those stolen glances in the room full of people nor those sweet kisses that felt divine? "Breathe in," Vince directed and I obliged. "Breathe out." He said and I let out the air from my lungs. "Come on, Riz. We are with you." Tori assured me. I inahled one last deep breath and finally lift my hand to ring the bell. Keep A'Knockin' (But you can't come in) played by Little Richard. I smiled as the lyrics of the room played inside the house. When we bought this house, mom insisted on having a song as the doorbell sound. And, it has been the same since then.

Eva’s P.O.V. Sleigh bells ring and the all too familiar sounds of classic Christmas music pour in through my earbuds as I walked down the snow-crusted sidewalk. Closing my eyes, I hummed along to the tune of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing With lyrics written by Charles Wesley,.” Sad to say, this is probably as Christmassy as I'm going to get.

The gems lit up, began their opening notes. Rain shivered as unearthly music, barely heard and intensely felt, vibrated in the air. Designed to physically pleasure the listener, the sounds shivered with the radiance of the aurora, seductively sweet. Piercing. Addictive. Rain shivered. She hadn’t meant to make the Bell. It was supposed to be a gate key, a door to the Dark Lands that would allow her to take a peek without being trapped. She realized too late that one actually had to go the Dark Lands before it could be set, which was problematic, since she’d had no intention of applying for her green card. By then she’d been addicted, unable to abandon her seductive little toy. The idea of it