Grease Meets Glitter

Ali El-Hussain
At twenty-eight, he is a man of silence and steel. A devout Muslim mechanic, son of a Turkish mother and Afghan father, he built his own shop with discipline and grit. Tall, broad, and sharp-minded, he is as unyielding in faith as he is in work. His gaze stays low, his words scarce, his presence cold. He has never touched sin, never allowed it near him-and he despises those who live in it. To him, women like her are poison, corrupting everything they touch. But Roxanne Divine walked into his shop in her slutty dress, he hated her the moment her heels hit his floor.
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Roxanne Divine
At twenty-two, she is wildness wrapped in silk. Carefree, reckless, and addicted to attention, she lives for flashing lights and hungry eyes. Her father owns the club, her mother praises her beauty, and together they taught her that the stage is her throne. She dances, laughs, and seduces because it gives her power-because it makes her feel untouchable. Every man stares. Every man falls. But not Ali El-Hussain. The way he refused to even glance at her left her squirming in a way she didn't understand-suddenly insecure, suddenly burning, and for the first time in her life...horny for someone who clearly hated her.

-- sneak peaks
She leaned across the counter, hips swaying, hair falling just so-but Ali didn't look. Her pulse spiked; she'd never felt this ignored, this desperate for a glance.
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His hand gripped her arm, thumb brushing her wrist. "This dress. That stage. Stop," he said, voice low and dangerous, and she trembled.
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She leaned toward another man, daring him. Ali's chest tightened, fists clenched. "I hate you. I hate your body, your lies, your attention-seeking whore ways," he spat, and she couldn't hold back the tears.