"You're a what?" Devin's full lips frowned as she eyed the man that only stood 3 feet away from her. "A sex therapist. Now please fix your expression, Miss Rodriguez." His creamy baritone responded agitatedly as she shook her head from side to side. "I need therapy, sir. Not any fucking dick." She growled, attempting to make a full exit out of the office, but not before she felt his large strong hands cup her small tiny wrists. He spun her around gracefully, his head dropping down to the space between their heads as his husky Burberry cologne overtook her nostrils. "Je ne suis pas d'accord belle dame," He muttered that beautiful second language against her skin, the language of love, as he smirked. She almost practically collapsed in his arms at the sound of it and he knew that he had her. "Maybe some fucking dick is exactly what you need." ©Copyright KeKe Biddle 2014 All Rights Reserved.

MATURE ONE-SHOT: If you were wondering what went on in Ashton West's (of The Escort) pretty little head, wonder no more. Please note that this story contains explicit content and is intended for a mature audience. You don't have to have read The Escort first but think of this as the prequel of that story.

[Edited Version] “You ever think about letting your hair loose?” Ashton asked, his breath kissing Amor’s neck as they waltzed. “My hair’s fine,” Amor snapped in annoyance. Ashton chuckled. “That’s not what I meant.” His hands slowly hiked up the hem of her dress and her breath caught. “What are you doing?” She uneasily glanced around at the dancing couples. “Giving a new meaning to dirty dancing,” he replied quietly. And he entered her. [Cover by @zarawhite]

**[AVALIBLE ON KINDLE + AMAZON IN PAPERBACK AND EBOOK 1/10/2025]** Running from the captivity of an unrelenting sinister past, Lacy Summers falls prey to the fierce and mysterious forces of ex-con, Johann Silvetti. Unable to control their lust, she's thrust into his world of sin. As the addiction becomes dangerous, she finds herself battling between fighting for freedom and surrendering to her desires... Previously known as 'The Criminal'.

Injured, terrified, and on the run, Kisa never expected salvation to come wrapped in tattoos, scars, and steel. When she crashes-bloody and unconscious-into the garage of Slater Wylde, a brooding mechanic with a body built for sin, she wakes to more than just safety. She wakes to obsession... Slater is rough. Dangerous. Addictive. Precisely the kind of trouble she should run from, but his touch feels like protection and devotion. With Kisa's past still haunting her, she decides to lie low and enjoy a little bit of pleasure from the hands of a Wylde. There's only one problem: Slater has no intention of letting her go. Sometimes, the deadliest remedy comes with oil-stained hands and a possessive streak that burns through the soul.

[Edited] "You had to be extremely low on cash to wank into a cup for it," Dani sneered, feeling like a vindictive bully in a playground. But Carlo deserved it. She felt the first sharp stab of fear that went through her heart when Carlo looked at her with thunder in his eyes. "What are you going to do now? Kill me?" she continued. Fingering the 9mm in her back pocket, she remembered that she'd never even shot the damn thing, despite her brothers' pleas to teach her. Carlo's shadow blanketed her. "Kill you?" His brow furrowed. "Do you really think that lowly of me, cara? I'm wounded." "Then what the hell do you want?" His face flashed with a look she barely recognised - pure arousal. Even when he reached out and pulled her to him, she could feel it. "I realised that the mother of my child is more of a spitfire than I thought." His lips brushed her earlobe. "Call me a pyromaniac." *cover by @bullethood*

[Edited Version ● Alternate Ending] "I will savour every part of your body; every nook and every cranny. I will make you feel like my last meal. And I will do it with your husband in the next room." Sofia's breathing became ragged. She held the stupid cookbook to her chest like a lifesaver, but she couldn't stop her heart bashing against it. And Vaughn? His hand had somehow slipped up the hem of her dress... (Cover by @ilovepizaaaa)

"Never underestimate the power of a decent vocabulary." • • • Imagine if you could hear everything your neighbor did on the other side of the wall. Cook - clean - masturbate? Detective Russell Crane quickly deducts that the wall in his new apartment is surprisingly thin. And that his female neighbor has a fondness of vibrators. How much would you listen to? And more importantly; How would you react if you heard your neighbor moan your name after having just met her once?

"I could nibble at your nose... or at your ear... or at your lips... or..." • • • It's December, and Jack Frost has just come to town. Literally. Summer is one of those people who hates winter. Not just because she was named after the opposite season, but because she hated the cold with a burning passion. But when a stunning man with silver hair, frosty blue eyes and a jovial charm walks into her coffee shop, ordering an iced caramel macchiato with extra ice, she suddenly finds it hard to hate the cold. Especially when (despite his constant cold hands) he always seems to burn her with his touch. Something seems off about him, and Summer is not mistaken. Jack Frost is known for bringing on the cold, but Summer is about to learn that he sure as hell knows how to turn on the heat, too.

"We could be more than just friends, Soph." • • • He was a player with the brain of a genius. She was his best friend, the only one who could resist his charm. And yet... - Hold on to your panties, because a genius is loose.