Book One : USC series 18+ Ayanna Heart Reeling from betrayal of her ex, Captain of the basketball team for UCLA and longtime boyfriend. She decides to go to a party to release some much needed steam. What she didn't expect was to make a deal with Carson Addams, Captain of the USC basketball team. Carson Addams Carson has a reputation to uphold , Captain of the basketball team and USC's most eligible playboy. His number one goal is to make it to the NBA. What happens when he sleeps with the captain of the rival teams ex ? Beating the Buzzer ----------- "Does your boyfriend know that you are here ?" he asks raising the bottle to his plump lips. My eyes followed the bob of his tattooed throat as he swallowed, " Ex- boyfriend." I corrected. "And what I do now is none of his business." "Good to know ." he says before walking off into the crowded living room. Before I could process what just happened Sade came into the kitchen ," Come on Ayanna. It's time to play dirty Jenga." Oh great - the game that is a USC tradition. The game that has brought people together and torn them apart. Ranks: #1 USC #1 Sports Romance #1 College Student #1 Friends #1 College Romance #1 Cheating IF YOU COPY MY BOOK I WILL REPORT YOU

❝ 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘢 𝘘𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘴 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩. ❞ (𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝟏 - 𝟑) (𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐳𝐜𝐨) 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝟎𝟓.𝟎𝟐.𝟐𝟐 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃: 𝟐𝟔.𝟎𝟔.𝟐𝟔

[ COMPLETED ] Devotion | ✓ Book One Of The Sinners & Saints Series I AM HOPELESSLY AND ENDLESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU. COPYRIGHT © MIDNXGHTSUN

Imani took the job for one reason. Money. Her father's gambling debts are swallowing everything her family owns, and the only job willing to pay enough to save their home happens to be inside the mansion of the most dangerous man in the city-a Russian Bratva king whose name is spoken in whispers. So Imani follows three simple rules. Keep her head down. Do her job. And never look the men of the house in the eyes. For months, it has worked. Until the day she is sent to clean the forbidden top floor. A careless mistake. A drunk mafia soldier. One gunshot that echoes through the study. The man who crossed the line drops dead behind her. And when Imani finally looks up... she meets the cold gaze of the man who pulled the trigger. Roman Volkov. The master of the mansion. The most feared man in the Russian Bratva. A man who notices everything. Except this time, he isn't looking at the body on the floor. He's watching her. Imani wants nothing more than to remain invisible, collect her paycheck, and keep her family from losing their home. But Roman Volkov has just found the only woman in his house who doesn't fear him enough. And once the Bratva king decides he wants something... Walking away is no longer an option

She should have kept her mouth shut. Every night, Violet Johnson buries herself in dark romance novels. Possessive antiheroes. Cold men with dangerous power. Obsession that burns slow and devours whole. She loves every page... until she slams the book shut in frustration. Because none of those men are real. No man looks at her like she's his undoing. No man corners her and makes her pulse riot. No man feels dangerous enough to ruin her life beautifully. So she makes a wish. A stupid, half-asleep, whispered wish. "Just once... let me meet a man like that." The next morning begins like every other. Coffee. Headphones. Late for work. Until she walks straight into a wall of muscle and expensive danger. He smells like something forbidden. He looks carved, not born. His voice is low, controlled, cold enough to frost over skin. And when she panics and blurts out, "Sorry... you're just really handsome," she wants the ground to swallow her whole. He doesn't smile. He studies her. As if she's interesting. As if she's... entertaining. What Violet doesn't know is that the universe didn't misunderstand her wish. It answered it precisely. The man she bumped into is not fictional. He is not safe. And he is not the kind of man who allows coincidences. He notices how she stares too long. How her emotions flicker across her face like open pages. How she tries to hide her growing obsession... and fails beautifully. She falls first. Hard. Secretly. He falls harder. Dangerously. Possessive in silence. Strategic in pursuit. Amused by her shameless curiosity. And when he realizes she wanted a dark romance hero? He decides to show her what that really means. Careful what you wish for. Some fantasies do not come with safe words.

There are other things Jackson hates more than Democrats and Liberals. It's blacks, Hispanics, Asians, Middle Easterns, Jews, and Muslims. The list is long and his hatred varies depending on the events of the day. And recently it's been a certain East African doctor that has been assigned to his son who has cancer. He makes it very clear to her that he doesn't like her kind but the tent in his pants and the racing of his heart when he sees her, say otherwise. He tries to hate her, he truly does. It's safer for both of them considering his white supremacist family wouldn't blink at the thought of killing her. But the more he tries to harden his heart against her the more his heart fights him on it.

Crystal Pierre Grey was married to Stephen Grey, a polished corporate executive from New Jersey with a good job-and a mother who never liked Crystal from the start. Coming from a low-income background, Crystal never stood a chance in his mother's eyes. Stephen tried to balance the two women in his life, constantly pulled between pleasing the woman who raised him and the one he chose to marry. Eventually, the pressure broke them. They packed up and moved to Florida, chasing peace far from the constant tension. For a little while, it actually seemed to worked. Things were quiet, even happy-until a man named Giovanni Kent came around. Tall, sexy, and fresh out of prison, Giovanni wasn't shy about his interest in Crystal. He made it clear he didn't care she was married. His charm was dangerous, and his presence stirred something in her she didn't expect. What started as a fresh start slowly turned into something unstable. And Crystal's once simple life was about to get complicated.

Renae hated looking at herself in the mirror, all she would see is an ugly black girl. She was physically and mentally abused by her ex, and always wondered if anyone can love a girl like her. When she encounters Liam Williams, a sexy, hot billionaire, could he show Renae that she is worth so much more than she thinks? I DON'T OWN ANY PICTURES I MAY USE Started: September 4 2018 Finished: March 23 2019

Zola West thought keeping her head down and running numbers for a Miami nightclub would be enough to survive. But when secrets surface and money goes missing, she finds herself face-to-face with the Bratva-and the ruthless man behind it all. Nikolai Malakhov doesn't tolerate betrayal, but there's something about the sharp-mouthed accountant that makes him hesitate. Now she's in his world, on his payroll, and under his control. The numbers don't lie. But Zola does-and it might cost her everything. A dark, addictive story of power, obsession, and survival.

She just looked up at me, breath catching in her throat, eyes wide and wet beneath the streetlight. The pink of her dress shimmered under the glow, her skin gleaming like bronze polished by heat and defiance. "You want to dance drunk in some stranger's hands?" I demanded, jaw tight. "Fine. Just say it." She stared at me. Furious. Flushed. Shaking. Then she whispered, "Why does it matter so much?" I didn't answer. Couldn't. Because the truth would've ripped open everything. So it came out before I could stop it-low, guttural, the sound of something breaking free. "Because you're not theirs." She froze. And then... she stepped closer. Just a breath. Just a whisper of space left between us. "Then kiss me," she said, voice soft but certain. "You always stop. You always pull away. You tell me you notice me. That you protect me. But you never kiss me." She looked up at me, trembling. "So kiss me. Or let me go." I didn't move. Not for a heartbeat. Not for five. Because I knew what would happen once I did. There would be no turning back. Not for her. Not for me. She looked like sin and sweetness wrapped in fire and I'd already gone too long pretending I didn't want to burn. So I moved. One hand slid to her waist, dragging her closer. The other tangled in the back of her curls, angling her mouth to mine. And then I kissed her. God, I kissed her. Like she was the only source of oxygen left in the world. Like her lips were something I could consume. Like kissing her could fix every cracked, corrupted thing inside me. It wasn't gentle. It was possession. Teeth, tongue, breathless heat and broken restraint. Her mouth opened under mine. I took advantage tasting rum, rebellion and something so soft I nearly lost my balance. Her fingers gripped my jacket like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go.She moaned into me. That sound soft, desperate, mine shot straight to the center of my chest. I deepened the kiss, groaning as her body arched into mine,