Within Arm's Reach Book Novels & Stories

I appreciated it immensely. “Well the city of Rome is beautiful, the views, even the people. But we had to work most of our time there, we’ll Geoffrey had to but we’ll definitely be going back there,” Eloise replied warmly. “That’s fantastic. I’m glad you had a pleasant time,” I replied just as warmly. I felt a pinch on my arms and immediately looked down at Isabella. She was signaling me to talk. I mouthed, “Talk about what?’ She just pointed to her ring finger and it finally clicked. Oh, Adam.

I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around him. He caught me so quickly it was as if he had been waiting for the smallest permission. His arms closed around me, too tight at first, then tighter still, like some part of him could not obey gentleness when goodbye stood nearby. I pressed my face against his chest, feeling the hard warmth of the scales covering him like armour. For once, I did not feel small in a way that hurt. I felt held.

I walked blindly through the dark study, pinning her against the wall beside the massive bookshelves. Her hands were frantic, reaching for the buttons of my shirt, pulling the fabric away with my help until my chest was bare against her silk nightgown. I felt myself rise against her, the friction of her body driving me to the brink of insanity. My hands slid under the hem of her gown, exploring the silk of her skin, cupping the weight of her breasts.

My arm burns; my thigh shakes where it braces against his leg. He drops his weight. Smart. My balance tips. I react on instinct, wrapping my leg around his calf, knee pressing tight. My foot hooks behind his ankle and I pull. We spin. Dust kicks up around our boots, hanging in the air as momentum drags us sideways. I dig my heel in and arrest it. He uses the opening. His arm snakes free, sliding up and over my shoulder, forearm locking across my upper chest—not choking, controlling. The pressure pins me just below the collarbone. His other hand clamps onto my elbow, keeping my arm folded tight.

Due to her discomfort, Yuna kept thrashing about, so he could only restrain her left arm to the side of the bathtub using a clean towel. At this, Yuna forced her eyes open and vaguely made out Yvan’s face. She experimentally tugged her left arm but quickly realized she couldn’t get free. Her face flashed with panic at that realization, and she wildly grabbed at him with her right arm. Yvan could feel her tugging at his belt, and he could clearly feel her cold fingers on his skin, which had accidentally slipped a few inches down his pants. His pupils dilated, and he instantly grabbed her arm. “I swear I will kick you out of the house if you don’t keep your hands to yourself,” he growled.

I followed him step by step, looking around and admiring the artefacts, wallpapers and paintings. We moved into the inner part of the mansion, and proceeded into a room with large shelves full of books, three black leather chairs, an oversized seater and two love plush sfacing each other, Mary could be seen on one of the sofas engrossed in a book titled 'The Alchemist'. "Hello Mary," I called out, she jolted immediately and the book fell out of her hands. "Sorry," I said picking it up. "Miss Chi," she called out softly, getting up and staring at me weirdly.

He walked over, towering over me, and said casually, "What's wrong? Haven't heard from you in a while. Are you mad at me? I haven't seen you in so long. I really want to hug you." He spoke in that familiar sweet tone, bending toward me. I smelled the woman's fragrance on him and instinctively recoiled in disgust, turning my body away. Ross froze mid-motion. In the past, whenever we fought, his gentle embrace always managed to calm me no matter how angry I was. Ross straightened up, frowning deeply. "What's your problem now?" I didn't answer. Instead, I stood up and moved to the nearby couch, putting some space between us. His expression soured further, as he impatiently tried to explain.

“I thought I had everything under control, but…” “You don’t have to do it alone, you know,” she says softly, her hand reaching out to rest on my arm. That one small touch is all it takes to break through the last of my defences. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m reaching for her, pulling her into my arms. She doesn’t resist, doesn’t question it. She just lets herself be held, her arms slipping around me in a way that feels so natural, so right.

Nicole felt happy to see that her son was quickly adapting to her family. He went from one set of arms to another, and everyone was delighted with him. They ate amidst laughter and jokes, and for the first time in a long time, Nicole felt truly free. After a while, she heard the doorbell ring. Nicole stood up and headed towards the door to see who it was. When she opened it, she was surprised to find Bruno standing in front of her. He had his arms crossed over his chest, wearing a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and jeans. Nicole looked him up and down, realizing that he still stirred up the same emotions in her. She cleared her mind to be able to speak.

"I—" "Actually," Rena cuts in, her hand slipping over mine. I nearly flinch at the unexpected touch, but she’s looking at me with the most genuine smile I’ve seen from her all day. "Armani knocked the book from my hand in the diner when we met. When he picked it up for me, he mentioned how relevant it still is today. If you read it through the right lens—"