DIFFERENT
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing1h 17m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Nov 27, 2019
He felt the attraction at first sight. She felt happy when she was with him. Both from different backgrounds. Both different colors. Both can't stay away from each other. Jeremy grew up in a racist household and shares such ideas and thoughts as his parents. He can't quite understand his attraction towards Cheryn, but decides to put his prejudices aside just to figure her out. His infatuation is immediate and his possessiveness unlocks his true nature - to which he casually embraces. Cheryn is a girl of many interests and has a clear view of her future. However, a chance encounter with Jeremy is the start of a purely instinctual, and irrationally fast relationship. Deciding to just go with the flow and have fun, she slowly starts to feel more than lust towards him. (NOTE: Sensitive topics and graphic gore. If you don't want to read about racism then turn away now! If killing is not your cup of tea, then don't read this.) WARNING: Rated M for mature. If you don't know what sex is or what it consists of then don't read this book. Please. I ain't getting flagged on Wattpad. Copyright © 2020
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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.

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