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.

THE CLUB OWNER AND HIS STRIPPER "Sir, this is inappropriate and I'm sure you're aware of that. You're my boss." His tall frame stood up and he slowly strode over to me with a lustful glint in his eyes. His hand lifted and his thumb ran across my lower lip, "Strip for me." ❦ Valentina Castillo, working at the highest paying job she could with an abnormally absent boss. Her life depended on her skills throughout the underworld, able to kill without a trace of remorse trailing behind her. Her ability to seduce for what she wanted was unmatched, and it only helped for the time she wasn't pulling the crimson from bodies to gain what she pleased. Clay Romero, one of the most powerful men in the underworld. His multiple owned clubs gave him the ability to rise above others, finding his way to the vixen working at his very own strip club. He got what he wanted without a consequence, and it made him just that much more powerful. Even through the lines of lust, their lives were much similar than they thought. [started: 02.15.22] [completed: 04.30.22] ----- WARNING: mature and explicit content; rated +18 ©lustfulslxt

"I'm a stripper, not a prostitute." I say as he slowly pushes me against the wall. "Not much of a difference now a days." He says, raising an eyebrow. "You bastard. I don't even know why I wasted my time with you." I say through grit teeth. "Cause you can't deny a good fuck and lucky for you I can't either. Keep the fucking money or I'm going to take you on the wall and not care who walks in." He challenges. "Even your wife?" I ask quietly. "Even my wife. Now what do you say?" He finalizes. I inhale deeply and narrow my gaze on him. "I swear to God, I loathe you." I murmur. He smirks, "Feelings are mutual." He says grinning and I crash my lips onto mine. Coming in August 2013