Rava Weston is the definition of the ideal son. He follows the rules, smiles when he should, and never causes trouble. His future is laid out-while he has just enough space to secretly chase his own quiet dreams of becoming a teacher, so long as he plays the role his parents expect. But when he's forced to attend a family summit back in Italy, everything starts to unravel. Because Gio Fontana will be there. Gio is reckless, magnetic, too rich for his own good. He's got cops who know him by name, and NOT because they're friends. His motorcycle is his greatest love, and rules don't seem to apply to him. He has a reputation that makes fathers lock their doors. Especially Rava's father. Rava and Gio, never got along. But this time, the tension feels like hunger more than hate. And as the days stretch on, Rava's perfectly safe world starts to slip through his fingers, because what's building between him and Gio is not just risky, it's forbidden. And it might be the first real thing Rava's ever felt. 🥇 #1 - gay 🥇 #1 - enemiestolovers 🥇 #1 - forbiddenlove 🥇 #1 - bxb 🥇 #1 - bl 🥇 #1 - bxblove 🥇 #1 - boyxboy 🥇 #1 - biker 🥇 #1 - Italy 🥇 #1 - denial 🥇 #1 - angst 🥇 #1 - gaylove 🥇 #1 - gayfiction 🥇 #1 - fluffy 🥇 #1 - mxm 🥇 #1 - bisexual 🥇 #1 - gaycouple 🥇 #1 - love 🥇 #1 - mlm 🥇 #1 - funny 🥇 #1 - fanfiction 🥇 #1 - obsession 🥇 #1 - slowburn 🥇 #1 - queer Also available in Amazon, physical and Kindle ebook version ✅ (with some bonus spicy chapters)

21-year-old Dean Clark, an architecture student, is struggling to balance his studies, two jobs, and a relationship that isn't as stable as he'd like. When he decides to find a roommate, the solution comes in the form of Isaac Nabokov, a 24-year-old Russian guy with unshakable confidence, influence, and a past that seems to hold more secrets than he's willing to share. From the very start, Dean's boyfriend and Isaac, seem ready to tear each other apart, and Dean finds himself caught in the middle of a tension that refuses to fade. But Isaac? He thrives on chaos. Especially when he's the one causing it. Dean and Isaac have nothing in common. Dean cannot stand him, and nothing could change that...Right? 🥇 #1 roommate 🥇 #1 manxman 🥇 #1 malexmale 🥇 #1 russianmen 🥇 #1 funny 🥇 #1 yearning 🥇 #1 australia 🥇 #1 gay 🥇 #1 spicy

"Are you... lost?" Someone asked, her tone impatient. I stopped scanning the room to find the woman behind the voice. I blinked. She had the most luminous blue eyes I had ever seen. Even in the dim glow of the bar they glowed brightly, like her pupils were some type of smooth stone at the bottom of a clear blue ocean. Within her blue there flickered tiny speckles of silver, which gave her an icy, somewhat stony appeal. But it was her slight, lopsided smile that erased any signs of wanting to be alone. No wonder this bar was so popular. "Uh, no," I said, holding up the Help Wanted sign I had snagged from the front window. The woman's cool eyes flickered between the sign and me. She didn't say anything, only looked slightly thoughtful as slender fingers raked through her long blonde hair. "What can you do?" She finally asked, definitely not expecting me to be able to do much of anything at all. She'd be right. "Anything and everything," I answered-lied-instantly, hoping I didn't look too desperate, didn't sound too eager. To be perfectly honest, I hadn't worked a day in my life. My hands were used to weekly manicures not hard labor. But desperate times call for desperate measures. The blonde appeared thoughtful again. Those magnificent eyes gave me a once over, slow and steady. You could see the cogs turning in her head as she considered it. I decided to try and sound more convincing. "I have many skills," I added. Okay, so I stole that from Xena, but I was hoping it worked as well for me as it did for her. The blonde lifted a sculpted brow and the smile was, once again, back on her lips. She seemed amused. Maybe she was a Xena fan? "Alright... I'll start you off cleaning the bathrooms, sweeping the floors, doing the dishes..." Crap.

She's a wild, free spirit who sees the good in everyone, and he's the hardened, bad-tempered loner who wants nothing to do with her-yet no matter how hard he tries to push her away, she's the one temptation he can't escape. *** He's never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she says every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other. She's never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find it, whether he likes it or not. It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites. *** "You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing. He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl. He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away. "You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering. "I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk. *** #1 in Young Adult #9 in Badboy #1 in Cold #3 in Goodgirl #1 in Sweetheart #14 in Love *** *Warning* This story contains mature themes (language, scenes)