Two Night Stand Book Novels & Stories

Twelve days was a blip, a footnote, a fever dream brought on by proximity and adrenaline and really, really exceptional sex. Except I couldn’t stop dreaming about him. Couldn’t stop reaching for the other side of the bed in the dark. Couldn’t stop hearing his voice say my name like it was the only word he’d ever learned. The email came on a Thursday. No subject line. No signature. Just an address in Detroit and a single sentence: The Baldwin is better the second time around. I was on a flight by Friday morning. The address was a bookshop. Small, warm, tucked between a laundromat and a bakery on a quiet street. The sign above the door read Second Round Books and I laughed—actually laughed—sta

She didn’t beg to be pregnant. That night, Naya flinched at the sound of a knock on her door. Her hands were wrapped around her pillow, as she struggled to fall asleep. When the knock came the second time, she went over to the door to open it. Lo! And behold! Brett stood there with some box of chocolates, acting as if he had just remembered her existence and none of that mattered before then. Naya was a bit amazed until she saw Lovelyn who stood beside him with a grin.

I promise to do everything within my power to make you and Jayden happy. "I trust you." She mumbled. Connor couldn't help with the chuckle that escaped his lips when he felt her soft hand stroking his dick. "I've never been so proud of myself for deciding we are going to leave tomorrow night instead of tomorrow morning because it looks like we are going to be up all night." Nancy blushed as Connor climbed on top of her. She knew he was right.

My books were stacked on the nightstand. Vittorio had done this. Even before I came back from the memorial, he had made the decision to separate us. I sank onto the edge of the bed, my mind reeling. Why? What had changed? Had I done something wrong? Had he found out about Lucas and I? Was this a test to see if I would go running into Lucas' arms. I shook my head, forcing myself to stop spiraling. I couldn't afford to fall apart. I stood and walked to the vanity, intending to check through my clothes for something comfortable to sleep in. But my eyes fell on something in my vanity table.

Juan say, and when he turned to face me, my breath seized, and I felt my heart stop. I couldn't believe who I was seeing in front of me. It was the same man I had a one-night stand with at the club where I worked months ago. “Don Nicholas is here to see you," Mrs. Juan said. He was the CEO of the largest wine company in Los Angeles. And not just any man, but one of the richest men in the city.

The memory of that photograph I'd discovered in George's study drawer-Elizabeth in her youth, worn around the edges yet meticulously preserved-made my stomach turn. How many nights had George pretended to sleep beside me while secretly gazing at her image with a tenderness he'd never shown me? "I know that," I snapped, struggling to rein in my fury. "I'll be more careful." But then another thought struck me— Anna Shaw had delivered twins. _Twins_. Two children who would divert even more of the Murphy fortune away from its rightful heirs. The bitter resentment rose in my throat like bile. George's POV The amber liquid in my tumbler caught the fading daylight as I swirled it, savoring both its

I replied, my eyes brimming with tears, and something darker… pent-up desire. “Do you perhaps want to check out my hotel room?” he asked smoothly, just as I remembered, and I found myself nodding before I could think. “Definitely,” I replied, and I immediately threw myself into his arms, kissing him passionately. It seemed the web of our forbidden affair was far from over, only changed. This time, he was my ex-stepfather. Author's Note: This is the end of One-Night Stand With My Stepfather..

“For now…” A sharp knock cut the silence. Nathan bolted upright, scrambling for a shirt and clutching the sheet around his waist. The room felt suddenly fragile again. The digital clock on the nightstand flashed 2:43 a.m. in bright red. Too late, too strange. Who could possibly be at the door at that hour?

He wasn't worthy of it. I checked the time again and I had less than five minutes to get to work. I rushed to the ladies’ apartment to take a quick shower. As I pulled off my dress, a card slipped out and landed on the floor. I picked it up. “If you want more, you can always find me.” Damien Sinclair [Phone Number] The audacity, I scoffed and tossed it aside. Of course, all rich men like Damien were all arrogant, entitled, and dangerous. I certainly wasn’t going to fall for that again.

Night Two I come awake gasping because every limb is yanked wide by living black vines that snake straight out of the floorboards like they’ve been waiting under the rug for centuries. They throb against my skin, hot and slick as they pulse with the same filthy heartbeat I feel between my legs. My wrists stretch overhead while my ankles wrench apart, and my waist cinches so tight my back bows off the wool. Cool air kisses the cum still leaking from last night’s ruined cunt, and the shame makes me clench so hard the vine curled between my thighs gives a greedy twitch. Its bulbous tip nudges my swollen clit like it’s saying good morning, greedy girl.