Bad Boy Undercover | ✓
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- Parts 36
MatureComplete Wed, Feb 21, 20246h 11m
❝ You have robbed me of all heart and mind, I love you, sweet bandit of my soul. ❞
Akari Hill-Miuri's life was normal - until the hottest guy on campus appeared bleeding on her doorstep.
Julian Jones.
The tattooed boy everyone whispers about.
The boy accused of murder.
Now he's hiding in her apartment.
And the worst part?
She might be falling for him.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
As Julian's lips brushed against her ear, his voice was a low, fervent whisper, sending a shiver of anticipation coursing through Akari's body. "Don't look at me like that, starlight," he murmured, his tone laced with desire, "I wouldn't be able to control myself."
Akari's voice was barely a whisper, breathless with need. "Take me," she pleaded, her words a fervent plea for release, a declaration of surrender to the undeniable pull of their desire.
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Evangeline Mistiks was a girl plagued with low self esteem and a troubled home life. Curtis Babinski was popular, with questionable intentions and a long list of girls who wanted him. Evangeline and Curtis had been enemies living across the street from each other for years. Angie had always liked Curtis, his blonde hair, brown eyes and sharp features. However, after years of her crush, she decided his unprovoked hatred gave her reason to hate him as well. Angie hated Curtis. Curtis has hated Angie for almost as long as he can remember. He grew up learning to make fun of her, to ridicule her outfits, her laugh, the way one dimple formed on her lilac blushed cheek. He had never thought of life another way, she was his to make fun of. Curtis hated Angie. When a school project brings together the two enemies, Angie and Curtis' relationship begins to change. When their grade depends on it, will their proximity complicate their relationship? «» "I know it's crazy but I never asked for a body guard." He sits up quickly, grabbing my jaw and pointing my face towards the mirror on his wall. He suddenly becomes slower with his movements, his eyes searching over my body in the mirror. He delicately drags his finger along my jaw and over to the bruise under my eye. His lips were settled right under my ear, tickling me as he spoke. "Looks like you need me." He mumbles, and I turn my head to look at him, our faces were inches apart, our noses touching. "Even if you don't. If something happens to you," he pauses, pressing his lips together in thought for a moment, as if he changed his line of thought, "who do I have left to be mean to?"
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