A lust story. Only meant to be temporary.
A love story. Always meant to be permanent.
A hate story. Never meant to be.
This... is all three.
Nicole
It started in an elevator in California. Our lust story.
You know, the kind you know going in is a bad idea, but... the nagging desire and all. A few drinks in the hotel bar across from our workplace. A few nights in a luxury suite twenty floors above. What could it hurt?
Innocent fun would be had by all, and I’d walk away a well-satisfied woman. Ready to continue my life of brokenhearted loneliness.
Grady
It started on a ridge in Afghanistan. Our love story.
You know, the kind you felt in your soul at first sight, but... the tragic circumstances and all. Intentionally casual conversation over Irish whiskey. Intentionally casual sex over the course of two weeks. How could I refuse?
Guilt-ridden bonds would be built, and I’d confess my darkest sin. Beg for forgiveness five years overdue and clean my conscience along with it.
It started with the cold hard truth. Our hate story.
You know, the kind that could end a surprisingly beautiful beginning.
A love story. Always meant to be permanent.
A hate story. Never meant to be.
This... is all three.
Nicole
It started in an elevator in California. Our lust story.
You know, the kind you know going in is a bad idea, but... the nagging desire and all. A few drinks in the hotel bar across from our workplace. A few nights in a luxury suite twenty floors above. What could it hurt?
Innocent fun would be had by all, and I’d walk away a well-satisfied woman. Ready to continue my life of brokenhearted loneliness.
Grady
It started on a ridge in Afghanistan. Our love story.
You know, the kind you felt in your soul at first sight, but... the tragic circumstances and all. Intentionally casual conversation over Irish whiskey. Intentionally casual sex over the course of two weeks. How could I refuse?
Guilt-ridden bonds would be built, and I’d confess my darkest sin. Beg for forgiveness five years overdue and clean my conscience along with it.
It started with the cold hard truth. Our hate story.
You know, the kind that could end a surprisingly beautiful beginning.
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Author bio:
My love for steamy romance began when I was in junior high. A friend and I noticed a dumpster of discarded paperbacks behind our local dime store. Covers missing and each book split down the spine, I scanned the pages for any love or lust words—and curse words, too. From that point on, I scoured the public library and the paperback racks at every store, reading anything labeled romance. I said a tearfully grateful goodbye to Judy Bloom, and Jackie Collins began ruling my world.
I live with my high school sweetheart husband in the desert Southwest. Awesome in the winter, not so much in the summer.
My life long goals are to think before I speak, smile more and swear less, and actually weigh what my driver's license states I do.
My love for steamy romance began when I was in junior high. A friend and I noticed a dumpster of discarded paperbacks behind our local dime store. Covers missing and each book split down the spine, I scanned the pages for any love or lust words—and curse words, too. From that point on, I scoured the public library and the paperback racks at every store, reading anything labeled romance. I said a tearfully grateful goodbye to Judy Bloom, and Jackie Collins began ruling my world.
I live with my high school sweetheart husband in the desert Southwest. Awesome in the winter, not so much in the summer.
My life long goals are to think before I speak, smile more and swear less, and actually weigh what my driver's license states I do.
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