Trapezoid Coffee Table

“I need this job, Ralph, and I’m willing to do anything to get the job, I mean anything you want.” I told him, walking over to his side and sitting on his table, spreading my legs to give him a good view of my thong. “What makes you think I would fall for this cheap act of yours, what makes you even think I’m interested in your body?” he asks me, his eyes fixed on my cleavage. “I know you like me, Ralph, you can’t take your eyes off my body, I see you drooling when I walk by and I know you want more of me. Besides, how can you not want more when you’ve had a taste of me already. You popped my cherry, remember?” I asked him, putting my legs on his armchair, fixing my eyes on his. “Fine, you win, you got the job, goddamit! Just get out of my office before I do something stupid.” He yelled at me, pulling his hand through his hair in frustration. I smiled excitedly as I jumped down from the table, heading for the exit. “And Victoria, ”he called out to me as I opened his office door. I turned with a raised brow praying in my heart that he doesn’t change his mind. “Be very careful around me, I can be very dangerous when provoked. This emotional blackmail won’t work on me all the time. The next time you try to seduce me again, I won’t hold back, I would screw you right here on the bare table,” he warned me sternly. I know that was meant to sound like a threat, yet I moaned at the thought of him bending me over on his table and screwing my brains out.

I finally recovered my sight. Just as I was about to tell my parents about it, a slip of paper on the table caught my attention. "Don't tell your parents you've recovered your sight."

Stephan had wanted to use parsley his fiancee to blackmail his uncle into giving him a contract while having affair with her step sister . unfortunately for Stephan his uncle who was known to be ruthless cold and arrogant turned the table on him and made parsley his.

“Ashianna, you are the game. I can turn the table in my side. “ he said with the sweet tone of his voice. “My Father is a lawyer. You can’t hide anywhere.” I smirked, seeing him with full anger in his face.

Due to my heightened sensitivity, even the slightest touch causes an uncontrollable reaction. My husband, concerned, sends me to the hospital for treatment. As I lie on the operating table, the attending doctor unexpectedly triggers a wave of intense response from me—right in front of my husband.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

Si Martina ay isang waitress sa isang coffee shop at tingin sa kanya ay nerd pero hindi alam ng lahat na isa siyang assassin sa gabi. She didn’t expect that their loyal coffee shop customer, Itzael Volcov, would ask her to marry him and become his wife and baby maker. ‎ ‎They agreed to get married to each other because of their own personal ambitions. Gumawa si Itzael ng rules pagkatapos ng kasal na kailangan sundin ni Martina at ang matinding rules ay ‘wag siya magkakaroon ng feelings kay Itzael kahit may physical intimacy na nangyayari sa kanila. ‎ ‎Magawa kaya ni Martina na pigilan ang nararamdaman para kay Itzael o mas lalo pa itong lumalim? Or should she just continue being an assassin so she won’t develop feelings for Itzael?

Naomi Kim works in a small coffee shop in the middle of the busiest town of Hongdae Seoul, South Korea. She graduated college and was looking for a bigger job since she has to support her cost of living alone. A young man who happened to be their loyal customer, always dropped by in their shop every morning to have his cup of coffee, will help her to get into the big company she's aiming for but in one condition, Naomi will have to be his girlfriend. Naomi accepted it, thinking that it is not a big deal for her to have a boyfriend. But little did she know, his boyfriend is the CEO of the company she'll work for and a Mafia Boss. Lucas Manoban pretended to be a poor young man, who works as a librarian in the little library in town. He kept his identity to the young woman so she wouldn't get scared at him. But one incident will reveal all of the secrets in his life, which is also the reason to change the flow of their sweet yet boring relationship.

I confirmed Vincent Lowe was cheating on me on the day of our third wedding anniversary. The dining table was filled with dishes, yet he barely touched his fork before heading out the door. "Where are you going?" I asked. His answer was unnervingly straightforward. "A friend's treating me to dinner. Cassidy Mason—you know her, right? It's a free meal. It'd be a waste not to accept." An hour later, however, I received a voice message from Cassidy. In the message, Vincent's voice was lighter and livelier—so different from how he ever sounded with me. "They say you should marry someone you can truly enjoy a meal with. I really regret meeting you so late. If only I had known you earlier, I would've married you instead." I listened in silence. Then, alone at the table, I finished every last bite of the meal I had prepared. Afterward, I left a divorce agreement behind.

I'm undressed and bound to a testing table when my family comes to pick me up. A thick, sharp needle pierces into my neck. A drug is administered into my blood, and the pain almost makes me lose consciousness. Behind me, I can feel a man's cold hands stroking my skin amorously. Before me, several people are staring at me. They point at me and treat me like an educational instrument. I tremble in fear and curl up on the testing table in pain. Three years ago, my brother sent me to Mykorra's war zone to stand up for Yvette Sanders. Those were the three most insulting and torturous years of my life. They burned away my hope for kinship but not my desire for survival. As the hands roam lower on my body, I bite my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. As the hands start to go overboard, someone knocks on the door. "Wendy Sanders, your brother is here for you."