❝𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. 𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑰 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆.❞ __________________ Esmeralda doesn't just steal your freedom . She takes your breath, your mind...𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴. Ashleen knows she should hate her. But what's the fun in that?

Emery doesn't follow the rules-she bends them to get the job done. But when her latest pursuit leads her to someone as dangerous as she is, everything she knows is called into question. In a world where deception is the only truth, trust becomes the biggest risk of all, and one wrong move could unravel everything. ~Fatal Attraction ~Echoes of You {Sequel}

25 year old Y/N goes out to celebrate her birthday and meets a older fine women who may be a little to mature for her. After one night alone Y/N can't seem to let her go and fights to keep her attention.

"𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝."

She's the baddest bitch to ever walk in this club. SYN lights the stage on fire flawless body, thirty four inches, six inch heels that could kill. She doesn't touch anybody. Nobody touches her. But she's hiding something. A secret you'd never guess by watching her dance. Creed runs the city owns half city everyone fears her. Everyone obeys her , except SYN.

Just as Annabeth's hands reached to grab the back of her jacket, Sonya pivoted smoothly, one arm coiling around Annabeth's waist like a whip. There was a sharp gasp-Annabeth's-and then her spine slammed against the edge of the bar, the breath knocked clean from her chest. Sonya's forearm pressed hard across her collarbone, pinning her in place with infuriating ease. "If you wanted my attention, sugar, all you had to do was ask," Sonya murmured, her voice sultry and rough, lips inches from Annabeth's. "Get off me," Annabeth snarled, squirming beneath her hold. Sonya arched a brow, leaning in even closer until her body molded against the younger woman's-thigh to thigh, hip to hip. "You're feistier than the girls next door," she whispered against the shell of Annabeth's ear, her breath hot. "Careful now, Anna. I've always had a thing for resistance." Annabeth jerked against her, face twisting in rage. "Let. Me. Go. You stink of whiskey and whores," she spat, kicking against Sonya's shin. Sonya didn't flinch. "Say please," she drawled, her voice silk and steel, utterly unbothered. "Manners go a long way in this town." "Never," Annabeth hissed.