"I could nibble at your nose... or at your ear... or at your lips... or..." • • • It's December, and Jack Frost has just come to town. Literally. Summer is one of those people who hates winter. Not just because she was named after the opposite season, but because she hated the cold with a burning passion. But when a stunning man with silver hair, frosty blue eyes and a jovial charm walks into her coffee shop, ordering an iced caramel macchiato with extra ice, she suddenly finds it hard to hate the cold. Especially when (despite his constant cold hands) he always seems to burn her with his touch. Something seems off about him, and Summer is not mistaken. Jack Frost is known for bringing on the cold, but Summer is about to learn that he sure as hell knows how to turn on the heat, too.

"Come to sit on my lap again?" • • • It's that time of the year again, and people are all waiting for Santa to come by with their presents. Hazel is living a humdrum life in her small hometown, doing nothing in particular when a certain Santa Claus asks her if she wants to sit on his lap. Brown eyes, chocolate hair and abs carved like stone, Nick is nothing like the traditional Santa you know, yet he still straps on the beard and red suit. In town for just the season, Hazel slowly discovers there's more to Nick Saint than what meets the eye. Peeling back one layer at a time (like a Christmas present) she uncovers what truly lies beneath that red suit of his and finds herself in shock at the result. As the saying goes... Santa smirks because he knows where all the naughty girls live... And he was smirking at Hazel.

"What would you like me to play; The violin or your pussy?" • • • He lived on the street. They called him a tramp. He slept with trash and found his meals in the garbage. Nobody knew who he was. Melody knew the moment she met him, something about him was off. Something about him was missing. Impassive and unpredictable, he always lurked around, his hulking figure a wandering question mark on the streets of New York. But give him a violin and watch him play...

"You want me to be a genius or do you want me to fuck you?" • • • The Alexandrettia is the finest school in the state, known for producing the smartest, and most talented kids in America. 21 year old keen painter Mia Hanson managed to get a spot. She worked her whole life to get inside, to see the hallowed halls her biggest idols once walked through. But those very same halls gets vandalized one wild night, and the person responsible gets sentenced to do community service, working as a janitor to clean up his mess. With his brooding eyes, filthy mouth and body covered up in ink, Eli the type of guy you run away from; The type who only lives for the trouble; The type you just know packs a brain the size of a peanut. But when one of Fermat's biggest unsolved mathematical problems gets solved by an unknown source, rumors start as to who and where this genius might be... Well: Three guesses who?

I look in shock at the person at my door. "You look beautiful." I shake my head. "What are you doing here?" I hiss. "You've been avoiding me." I roll my eyes. "Thank you captain obvious." I say with a roll of the eyes. "Is anyone home?" He asks. "Not at the moment." I mutter. "Good." Before I can say another word, Mr Lilac cups my cheeks in his strong hands and presses his lips to mine, fiercely. I try to fight him off me but the more he holds me there and kisses me the less I want to pull away. I clench his top in my fists, kissing him back just as fiercely and bringing him further inside my home, closing and locking the door behind him.

"I've learned my lesson Mr. Bateman" I say as I stand up from my desk and walk up to his. "Have you really Miss Summers?" What the hell is wrong with this man? "Can I go now Mr. Bateman? I really don't want to miss the rest of my classes." I said standing in front of him. God he's so tall. "Your other classes are more important than mine I see." He says not keeping his eyes off of mine. "No, your class is just as important as the rest of them. If not more." I said getting angry. Why isn't he letting me go? "It's obviously not if you came to my class unbelievably late!!" He said raising his voice. "It's not my fault! Just fucking relax!" Damn I regret that now. "Who do you think you're talking to Miss Summers?! You're acting like a child!" A child? The nerve of this man! "I am NOT a child! I am anything but that! You're a damn child!" His eyes widened. Oops.. "Me? A child? Miss Summers You're gonna be here everyday for an hour till you learn how to respect me." WHAT? God he's got me so mad but I want to rip off his clothes so bad. This is so wrong for me to be thinking like this.. "Think like what Miss Summers?" Dammit. "N-Nothing" He lifted me into the desk and he bit my bottom lip causing me to gasp. His hand trailed into my shirt, caressing my skin...

"At least I did not lie the first time. I want you. In my bed. Warm and Wanton. No strings attached. I wont poked into your business and dont poke in mine. Do we have a deal??" Christian said seriously as if talking about some business deal. Kristine heart thumped and she went hot starting from her ears. How can he say that without blinking an eye. They were talking about sex like two consenting adults. How could she be so stupid to fall for someone who doesnt believe in love? "Okay. You got yourself a deal." she muttered. "And please dont fall in love with me," he added as an after thought. Geez. Your warning came ages late! Kris thought.

He swiped my sweat-soaked hair off my neck, resting his lips against my ear. His fiery breaths blew across my earlobe. My body shuddered once again, craving more of him. "You're not the first woman to think she could seduce me into bed because of who I am, what I write. And you won't be the last." He gave a small chuckle, pulling down my dress, so it covered me. "But," he said in a low growl, "so far...... you're my favorite." Breaths poured from my lips at those words. My heart fluttered inside my pounding chest. His favorite, my brain stuck to his words like glue. Clinging to the small hope we'd continue this somewhere else, more than once. We stayed in that position for a moment before his body heat disappeared from my back. He lit a cigarette in front of me, the flash of the lighter illuminating his flushed, sweat-soaked face. I leaned against the brick wall, finding comfort in the coolness against my heated skin. His eyes met mine again. I didn't think I could move from the spot, but he forced me to when he held up a red, lacy thong in between his fingers. My red lacy thong. Fucking panty thief! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Their worlds collided in a heated, passion-filled hook-up behind a bar, bringing their broken pieces together. And now? Mercy finds herself as C.J. Cole's intern. The very Mr. Cole who wrote the most romantic, erotic books she had ever laid eyes on. How could she manage to keep her panties on around him? Or control herself? Hint: she won't. Mature warning.

Being a drug lord is hard. Being a drug lord, who is also a woman, is even harder. So many people take you as a joke or try to convince you that sex with them is better than getting paid. But it's better to fake flirt with them, have them wrapped around your finger before breaking their nose, beating then robbing them. My life isn't as hard as others, but when your a woman, power and money still means nothing to men. No matter how in control you are of everything, they'll try to find a way to take that power away so you'll have to depend on them. CEO's, judges, lawyers, other drug dealers, sorry excuses for men, and even cops. A particular cop has taken an interest in me. Something about him drives me wild, but scares me. Maybe I'll entertain him, just for a bit to keep the cops off my ass. What's the worse that could happen? Copyright © The Cop and The Submissive