Joelle Jordan is a socially awkward scholarship student barely surviving her home life and college. Bryce Valentine is the king of Mifflin University. Projected #1 NFL draft pick, campus obsession, and a walking pressure cooker. When Joelle offers to tutor Bryce in exchange for training sessions for her little brother, the arrangement seems simple enough. That is until they start sleeping together. Now Bryce can't seem to let her go. And Joelle has no idea how to navigate someone like Bryce. Emotionally repressed, overstimulated, possessive, and despite the fame... profoundly lonely. Add the coaches, media attention, NIL deals, scouts, photo shoots and Bryce's enigmatic father. The pressure that comes with being attached to the most watched college athlete in the country is not something Joelle is equipped for.

She was the undesired outcast, who stood out, yet simultaneously blended effortlessly into the background. I could see the panic in her glassy brown eyes as she prayed her way through the crowded hallways. She'd tightly clutch that cross around her neck, full lips whispering, asking her God to spare her from their scornful glares, hateful comments, and the occasional rough-up. Silly girl. Did she not know that he was not listening and he would never save her? Like Jesus, she was the sacrificial lamb. The anxiety-riddled girl would burst through the doors of the school's library with her chest heaving, heart racing, and sweat dripping from her temples. I'd watch her from the shadows as she stored her items behind the check-out counter, preparing for her free period she spent assisting the school librarian. I clenched my teeth, watching her wheel a cart of books throughout the aisles as she cheerfully hummed her Sunday hymnals. She wore a green and blue pinafore dress that fell mid-calf on her shapely body. She attempted to hide that body from me with oversized clothes, but you could never outfox a fox. They spoke pure blasphemy when they labeled her undesirable because I desired Jezebel Holmes in the worst way. Those opaque white stockings our classmates teased her for wearing did nothing but spur countless hours of fantasies. I'd dream about ripping her tights apart, right at her center, revealing her virginal cotton white panties covering her untouched paradise. I'd yank them to the side and taste her fear in her cum. Her stockings would find themselves strangling her neck while I fucked a believer out of her. I would be the one she'd pray to absolve her of her sins. I would be the one she would seek protection from. I would be her guiding light. I would be her God. #1 in Dark Romance #1 in Tainted Love #1 in Preacher's Daughter 1st Place in General Category - Hearts Award

She grew up in their house, best friends with one brother... and now she's tangled up with the other. A summer wedding, a secret romance, stolen kisses, and the kind of love that could ruin everything.

𝘒𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺. 𝘈𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘰 𝘗é𝘳𝘦𝘻-𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘰 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘭 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯. 𝘖𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘰, 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘳.

With spending her young adult life working to pay off her debt as an escort at a private brothel, Venus has lost her zest for life. But when two men came with the intention to buy her, everything changes.

"Oh darling everyone knows only the stolen apples taste best...."

"Tell me you don't want that," his darkened eyes clashed with her dazed ones, "Say it, and we'll stop right now. Tell me, and I'll go." Silence hung in the air, the distant hum of passing cars and crickets fading into the night. "Cause I have every intention of making you my wife, the mother of my kids, my everything. I want that. I want you. Understand?" Her eyes welled up, and her lips trembled as she swallowed hard, then nodded quickly, "I want that too." "That's what I thought, baby." ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ Cerise Rowan liked to keep things simple. Her days were a steady loop of sleep, eat, study, repeat. She told herself she valued comfort, though in truth, change terrified her. With change came anxiety, and her mind, already a delicate balance, struggled to cope. Her favorite S-words: sleep, solitude, and snacks, were enough to keep her "mild" disorder in check. Until another one entered her life. Well... two. If you count sex. ♡ Saint Novak lived by two rules: stay comfortable and take each day as it came. With his intimidating presence and (mostly) emotionless exterior, he wasn't exactly easy to get to know. He didn't waste time on dead ends, keeping his life decisively organized. People and things included. But Saint's problems were far from "mild". For years, he believed he had nothing to lose. Now, he's learning what it means to have goals, to want more, and to keep what's important to him close. So what happens when he walks into his parlor and is greeted by a new face? A very pretty face. One that stirs desires he didn't even know he had. Well, one taste of her is more than enough to set a few more goals.

crashing into you: The beautiful, chaotic moment when two completely different worlds collide - one quiet and calculating, the other loud and unapologetically bold - and everything changes. It's when fate doesn't ask politely, it just speeds up on two wheels and knocks the wind out of you with love bwwm nerd x bad bitch

I cupped her face, planting a soft kiss on her beautiful lips. "Don't ever run from me, baby," I said softly, letting my thumb trace her jaw. "I love the chase." Her jaw tightened, her hands coming up to try and move mine. "Stop calling me baby, Ezra," she snapped, eyes flashing. I couldn't help but grin, dropping my voice to something low and dark. "Ohhh, now my baby has a problem with me calling her baby?" She shot me a glare, but I just tucked her hair behind her ear, pressing another kiss to her lips-gentler this time, lingering. "You don't get to tell me what to call you, baby." I leaned in closer, brushing my nose against hers. "You're whatever the fuck I call you."

"Please, baby... I only got a taste. I 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭 more." ♧👻♧