Tj Watkins Novels & Stories

“Yeah, that’s Logan Carter.” There was a round of Oh's and ahs from the group at the window. I heard my phone buzz on the table with a notification. I closed my laptop down and grabbed my things. A lot of the office stayed at the window watching as I exited. I must admit they were correct; he looked exceptional. He was wearing dark jeans, a crisp white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He was leaning against the bonnet of a car I didn’t recognise.

~Introduction to the Male lead~ Name: Zion Black Knight. Age: 19 years. Lives in: Manchester. A British national. Height: 6.1ft, Fair skin, black eye. He is a high schooler. He is somebody that can't be restrained or tamed. The child of world's best and richest businessman, Andrew Black Knight. The one who brought the renovation in the entire IT industry. He is rich, handsome and intelligent with a photographic memory. Perfect in every way.

Julius said, planting his palms firmly on his desk and he thankfully navigated the conversation away from topics of conversation we had yet to discuss. “I’m assuming our Luna here is up to speed about Wes?” “Yes.” Julius and I replied in unison. “Okay dynamic duo. Well, when I say he is perhaps the weakest person I’ve ever encountered, I’m not lying. This guy is talking and I’m not even asking questions.” “I’m sure you’re not doing nothing.” Julius scoffed. “I’ve electrocuted him a handful of times, sue me.” Dean rolled his eyes, crossing his forearms over his broad chest. “Anyway, he’s confirmed that Adrian is working with someone and he’s got connections in the Blue Moon Pack.”

His grip tightened on my shirt, and he hoisted me up, his eyes ablaze with a fiery red intensity. "I've repeatedly emphasized the importance of steering clear from Sierra; she's not just someone to me—she's my life partner, the one with whom I envision spending the rest of my days." My growl resonates in response, yet I reluctantly lower myself, acknowledging that challenging him isn't a viable option, despite his inflated ego. Respect must be given where it's due. "Williams, I'm not here to stir up trouble; my sole purpose is to check on Sierra and ensure she's alright."

From off to the side, I hear a man’s voice say, “Oh, look, Tate, your babysitter is here. Does she get paid extra to read you a bedtime story and tuck you in?” I look over to see who it is, and am not surprised to discover that it’s a relief pitcher named Watson. He has a reputation for having a smart mouth, but sadly lacks the skills to back up half of what he says. Ashton is up out of his seat in a flash, but Jacob puts an arm out to block him from moving. I see Jacob whisper in his ear, but I have no clue what he might have said. I walk over to where Watson is seated and position myself right in front of him. I watch as his eyes roam over my body from head to toe, and he licks his lower l

Redhead introduced, nodding towards the brunette. "And I know you are the infamous Trevor Saint Williamson," Tricia added with a giggle. Trevor grinned as she emphasised his name. He wasn't surprised she had recognised him right away. Most people knew who he was due to him being constantly in the media, whilst only a few knew he was the owner of the clubhouse. "It's a pleasure to be finally this close to you." Tricia grinned, then nudged Lauren, who was staring at the dancefloor. Lauren flashed Trevor a smile, then whispered in Tricia's ear, "I think this is your time to get close to him. You have wanted to do this for a while now."

It wasn’t long before Hera ditched her friend and headed back to the peace of her tent, practically storming off. Once inside, Thomas heard her yelling at Gitana’s guy. “Get out!” He waited. “I didn’t sign up for this, Bruce. If you don’t leave, I will, and to hell with your court, fancy dresses, tent, and everything else!” The guy stepped back and kept watch by the tent's entrance. Thomas carefully moved around the canvas, making sure to act casual. He traced his fingers along the tent until he found the straps he had loosened before.

All these multiple questions flashed through my mind but the most concrete one of them all bugged me most. Who is J.T?

Finally, touches are made, and I am out of the door. I wait for the men at the foot of the stairs and they both show up. Santino as usual in an all black tuxedo while Maximo maintain his rugged look of wearing black ripped jeans, a black tight T-shirt with a black jacket. Of course, his feet are covered in boots. Both men check me out, heating my nerves as I struggle to maintain eye contact. Maximo’s look is intense as his eyes linger on my exposed thighs for a moment before he laughs a little.