S.E. Law – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

S.E. Law – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.booksnovels.com Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:52:50 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.1.3 http://www.booksnovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png S.E. Law – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.booksnovels.com 32 32 Hidden Desires – Dangerous Desires Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/hidden-desires-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:52:50 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hidden-desires-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Forbidden, Insta-Love Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)

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I lead a naughty secret life ... and my dad’s best friend found out!

Eliza:

When Jack Landry strides into my parents’ yard, I’m done for. He’s older. Dominant. Arresting. My dad’s best friend is a retired Air Force hero with a broad chest and piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through my “good girl” act.

He sees me in my garden. He sees me in my tiniest bikini by the pool. He sees me offering him a drink while my dad is just twenty feet away. But Jack doesn’t realize that the innocent young woman he sees during the day has a much darker side once the sun goes down.

Jack:

I spent twenty years in the military, but nothing prepared me for Eliza Shaw. She’s goddamn tempting with her saucy smile and those lush curves, but I have to keep my hands off my best friend's daughter.

Except I know her secret. She says she’s a hardworking paralegal, but I’ve seen her on my laptop screen. Performing for an audience of men under the name BunnySnowGirl. I’ve been paying for private sessions just to watch her, but now that I’m back in town, I’m done being a spectator because it’s time for this curvy blonde to perform for an audience of one!

Sparks fly and secrets unravel in this high-heat, age-gap romance. When Eliza finally lets Jack in on her hidden life, the veteran is more than game to play—and he’s bringing his own brand of discipline to the table.

HEA guaranteed. This is a standalone follow-up to One Taboo Night. 73k words

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

CHAPTER 1 – MY SECRET IDENTITY

Eliza

At 7:50 a.m., exactly as scheduled, I glide into the marble lobby of Gibson Grant with a determined click of my kitten heels. The fluorescent lights overhead render the place with hospital clarity—glass, chrome, and a massive aquarium filled with colorful fish. My skirt’s pressed to mathematical precision, the blouse sharp enough at the cuffs to draw blood, and the bun at the base of my skull is so tight it’s already giving me a headache. But that’s the impression that I’m trying to give because this is work, and I want people to think of me as a lady badass. After all, if they knew the secret life I’m leading, they’d be shocked, scandalized, and utterly agog.

But of course, no one at the law firm knows anything about the real me. The security guy waves me through without a word. He’s learned, after many months of smiling, that my conversational skills are reserved exclusively for work. I flash him a half-smile anyway—a habit of courtesy my mother boiled into me, like potatoes, until I couldn’t tell if it was sustenance or just starch.

Upstairs, I’m the first to reach the fifth floor. Gibson Grant’s paralegals are paid slightly above poverty wages in exchange for quietly running the world, or at least keeping the world of litigation from flying off its axis. I like the silence, the sense that my hands are already touching the gears before anyone else in the building’s even found their second sock.

On my desk: a pile of deposition transcripts, a flat, warm Coke from yesterday’s lunch, and a Post-It from last night’s me—”Don’t forget: Curtis motion, Buster v. Steele, 9:30.” I do not forget. I never forget. Some days, the only thing holding my atoms together is a lanyard of self-imposed reminders.

I log in, read through the overnight case notes, and triage the day’s emergencies. At 8:41, the first attorney breezes in. They all breeze, even the ones shaped like melted cheese sticks, because that’s how you’re taught in law school: if you’re late, it’s a power move; if you’re early, it’s a power move with a hangover.

“Morning, Eliza.” This one’s Rhonda—mid-forties, nails lacquered in an old-fashioned French, every word delivered in bullet points.

“Morning. Your docket’s on your desk and the revised Kincaid summary is in your inbox,” I say, because it’s already been there for seven minutes.

She makes a show of surprise, then swans off toward the break room, probably to test whether the coffee can melt another K-Cup machine before lunch.

The day’s first battle: the conference room at 9:30, where James Grant (senior partner, local legend, and my friend Marnie’s boyfriend) expects a flawless digest of three months’ discovery in under thirty seconds. I have not only the digest but the sub-digests, and color-coded post-its for when his temper flares and he needs a fact check within two heartbeats.

I sit at the far end of the walnut table, laptop open, the epitome of helpful invisibility.

Mr. Grant, already half-scowling, scans the documents I pass him. His blue eyes flick to mine. “You highlighted the new affidavits?”

“Yellow, as requested,” I reply, adding, “The ones contradicting last week’s statements are tabbed red.”

He nods imperceptibly. It’s either grudging approval or a prelude to homicide. I file both responses away for future use.

“Fine,” he says in a tight voice. “Thanks, I’ll take it from here.”

I nod and step out, wondering if I should have asked about his new baby. After all, my friend Marnie is dating him … as well as Gibson Grant’s other senior partner, Brent Gibson. Yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like. Marnie was once a lowly paralegal here, just like me, and somehow, she got entangled with not one man, but two. Not only that, but Brent Gibson and James Grant are the co-heads of Gibson Grant itself.

Suffice to say, it was a huge scandal. It ended up with my friend quitting her job here for obvious reasons, but Marnie didn’t go away. Instead, she moved into a huge penthouse apartment, and now has a baby by her two boyfriends. Who’s the biological father? No one knows. But it doesn’t matter because my buddy is as happy as a clam with her newborn son, and even happier still with two alpha males to service her each night. Yes, our two senior partners are engaged in a menage a trois with my pretty friend, and it’s for the better, to be honest. Mr. Gibson and Mr. Grant used to be ruthless perfectionists at work, and they still are. But there’s a slight edge of softness now, and I attribute that to the gentle, feminine influence of my friend.

But there’s work to be done. At around ten, the associates arrive, trailing whispers and cologne, and the room turns into a knife fight over timelines. I type and type, catching the overlapping cross-talk, threading sense out of their combined mania. When they start talking about the Carlsen brief, my own pulse kicks up a gear—I worked on that one at midnight, and it’s a disaster nobody else has noticed yet.

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The Unexpected – A MFM Menage Billionaire Bad Boy Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/the-unexpected-a-mfm-menage-billionaire-bad-boy-read-online-s-e-law Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:51:54 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-unexpected-a-mfm-menage-billionaire-bad-boy-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Billionaire, Erotic, Forbidden Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >88

Please don’t judge me.I’m in love with my dad’s stepbrother.I’m also in love with our pastor.I know it’s wrong. But how can an unexpected love feel so good?

I thought getting arrested would be the biggest mistake of my life.

I was wrong.

Now my father has decided I can't be trusted alone, so he's left me with two babysitters.

Hunter Roberts is six-foot-three of expensive suits, black tattoos, piercing blue eyes, and pure intimidation. Billionaire. Control freak. My father's stepbrother. Every time he looks at me, I feel like he's daring me to misbehave just so he has an excuse to put me back in my place.

Then there's Lachlan.

The town's gorgeous new pastor. Broad shoulders hidden beneath crisp dress shirts. Warm smile. Kind eyes. The sort of man everyone trusts without question.

I should probably mention that I don't.

Not when I catch him looking at me for one heartbeat too long.

Not when his calm voice makes my pulse race.

Not when I start wondering what secrets a man like him keeps buried beneath all that restraint.

Hunter says I need discipline.

Lachlan says I need guidance.

Neither one seems to realize they're the reason I can't think straight anymore.

Every argument turns into dangerous chemistry. Every accidental touch lingers too long. Every day under the same roof makes it harder to ignore the hunger simmering between us.

I've spent my whole life pretending I don't need anyone.

Now I'm trapped between a possessive billionaire who wants complete control... and a forbidden man of God who's trying desperately not to want me at all.

The worst part?

I'm not sure I want to be rescued anymore.

This is a scorching MFM menage romance featuring forced proximity, forbidden family tension, an obsessive billionaire alpha, a protective pastor with a dark side, explosive chemistry, and a heroine who discovers that sometimes one perfect man simply isn't enough. Stella Moreland wants two … and two she’ll get, which is why we adore our sassy heroine! As always, bring a tall glass of iced tea because the pages of this book are scorching hot! 75k words. This book is a follow-up to The Accident, but all of my books are standalones and can be read in any order. HEA guaranteed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

DO I REALLY NEED A CHAPERONE?

Stella

The honey-wood floor gleams under the boutique's track lighting as I run a hand over a soft cashmere cardigan, its deep emerald color like a secret garden at dusk. "Honestly, who tries on a sweater and then folds it like they're packing a cannonball?" I mutter, more to myself than to Chloe, who is zoning out by the register, probably mentally redecorating her entire apartment again.

"Just say you're folding it like you're trying to suffocate it," Chloe calls back, not looking up from her phone. "More dramatic."

I snort, arranging the collar just so. The familiar scent of rose and cedar hangs in the air, a perfume so persistent it's practically part of the Nicolette uniform. It clings to my own skin, mingling with the vanilla body lotion I smooth on every morning before my shift.

A vibration starts against my hip, a familiar, frantic buzz that means the group chat is blowing up. I tug my phone from the pocket of my black work slacks, the screen lighting up my face. Three new notifications.

Kayleigh: Trevor’s still asleep. But he has the cutest little snore. Like a sleepy puppy.

I smile, my thumbs flying across the screen.

Stella: Awww, a puppy! Make sure you take a picture for blackmail purposes. xo

Another buzz, immediate.

Mary Kate: [image attached]

I tap it open. It's a close-up of a hand—Mary Kate's hand, with her perfectly manicured nails, a delicate silver ring on her middle finger, and on her ring finger, a new, sparkly addition. It's a classic solitaire, elegant and understated, catching the light in a way that makes my breath catch for a second. She's been dropping hints about Kent for weeks.

Stella: MK!!! Holy shit. He didn't.

Mary Kate: He did. Over dinner last night. At that Italian place we love. I was a mess. Crying everywhere.

Stella: Of course you were, you beautiful disaster. Congratulations. I am screaming internally for you. Let's celebrate ASAP.

And then, another message, a string of them, all from Andie.

Andie:

Andie: [photo of her hand holding a steaming coffee cup] Thomas brought me coffee this morning. In bed. At 7 AM.

Andie: I said thank you and then we had sexy timez

This one makes me pause because actually, Andie’s talking about sexy times with my dad. It’s a long story. Basically, we had a bet, back when we were fancy-free co-eds, to see who could lose their virginity first, and Andie lost hers to my dad. They were sneaky about it, but they ended up falling in love, and now, she’s engaged and set to become my new stepmom. Ugh, doesn’t the word “stepmom” sound weird? But I’m excited because I adore Andie and I think she’s exactly what Thomas needs. But still, my friend has sex with my dad on a regular basis and I do not need to know the details about their relationship.

Nonetheless, I type back a quick, enthusiastic reply, a string of exclamation points and smiley faces, my thumbs a blur of practiced cheerfulness. My smile feels genuine enough as I hit send, but as I slide the phone back into my pocket, the expression on my face feels heavy, like a mask I can't quite take off. I glance around the boutique. The racks are neatly organized, the glass shelves are dusted, the silk blouses are fanned just so. The floor is empty. The whole place is quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and Chloe's occasional tapping on her phone.

I find myself drifting toward the window, the large plate-glass one that looks out onto the cobblestone street. I adjust the neckline on a mannequin wearing a cream-colored silk camisole, even though it's already perfect. I linger there, watching people walk by, couples mostly, their hands clasped, their heads bent toward each other in conversation. A pang of something sharp and lonely twists in my stomach.

It's stupid, I know. In movies, on TV, in the articles I scroll past online, having a boyfriend is “embarrassing” these days, a burden, something to roll your eyes at. That's the persona I've cultivated, the one my friends know and love. I'm the independent one, the free spirit, the one who flirts with multiple dudes, but doesn't need a man to complete her. I'm the one who cracks jokes about big dicks, who rolls her eyes at the sappy love stories, who says things like, "Who has time for all that drama?" with a casual toss of my blonde hair.

But the truth, the one I keep buried so deep I almost forget it's there, is that I want it. I want all of it. I want the late-night texts, the surprise coffees, the inside jokes, the stupid arguments over what to watch on TV. I want a boyfriend. A huge, handsome one, with broad shoulders and a kind smile, who would wrap me in his arms and hold me until the world went away. Who would kiss me until I forgot my own name, who would stroke my hair and tell me everything was going to be okay. I want to lose my senses in someone, to be so completely and utterly consumed by another person that there's no room for anything else.

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The Accident – Dangerous Desires Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/the-accident-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:13:34 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-accident-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >93

It was the ultimate, mortifying tech disaster. One accidental tap of the screen, and Kayleigh’s most private, explicit photos didn’t go where they were supposed to. Instead, they landed directly in the inbox of the last man on earth who should ever see them: her stepbrother.

When twenty-one-year-old Kayleigh hits send on a set of explicit nudes, the universe punishes her by delivering them straight to her stepbrother’s phone.
Instead of deleting the mistake, Trevor uses the photos to pull her into his orbit. He’s a powerful, unyielding billionaire, and determined to explore every inch of the woman in those pictures. He represents raw masculinity personified, a man whose very scent and shadow trigger an ache inside her she’s tried for years to deny.
Locked away with her billionaire stepbrother, Kayleigh is consumed by a fierce, heart-pounding arousal she can’t escape—and a man who won’t stop until he makes her his.

Holy heat! Are these things supposed to happen between step-siblings? But Trevor’s had his eye on his little sis for a while now, and when the photos land, that’s all the excuse he needs … to make the first move, and then a million more! As always, have an ice cold drink on hand to cool off because these pages are burning hot! This book is a follow-up to The Deal, but all of my stories are standalones and can be read in any order. HEA guaranteed. 80k words

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

HE BROUGHT A PORN STAR AS HIS WEDDING DATE!

Kayleigh

The first rule at a wedding is don’t wear white. The second, especially if you’re the cousin who’s still single at twenty-one and the subject of endless sidelong glances at the dress rehearsal, is don’t draw attention to yourself. I break neither rule. My dress is a deep, bruised rose—nothing virginal about it, nothing screaming look at me, either, unless you’re the kind of person who’s really looking. Which, I hope, tonight, includes only one person.

Trevor.

My stepbrother. A gorgeous asshole, with the arrogant smirk and piercing blue eyes and about a billion dollars to his name.

The one who makes me go hot all at once, squeezing my thighs together as my pulse races.

But I shouldn’t feel this way because my mom married his dad a mere two years ago, so we’re related. Not by blood of course, but still … we’re not nothing.

Speaking of which, I enter the wedding venue and spot my mother immediately. Victoria is where she belongs, next to Henry—the aforementioned stepfather—at a table near the front, in the orbit of my aunt and uncle, the photographer, and that one guy who’s always a groomsman. My mom’s hair is swept up in a twist so architectural it could have its own blueprint, and her navy sheath looks tailored to perfection. Her teeth are a bit too white, the way only money can manage. She looks aristocratic, amused, and perfectly at home. Henry’s the same, albeit a male version. He’s a big man, still well-built even in his 50’s. His suit is a graphite shade with a bit of a sheen, and his cufflinks glint like small, predatory eyes every time he moves. Basically, my mom and stepfather look like the old version of the cool crowd at school. I try not to feel inferior.

A server drifts by, all black and white and silent steps, and I take a flute of champagne with a thank you, the words sticky in my mouth. I’m already two glasses down, but no one would know it. My hair is up, the same blonde as Mom’s, only softer, wavy pieces coaxed down to touch my shoulders—bare, since the dress is off-the-shoulder and the early June heat inside the room is turning skin dewy. I’ve done the makeup, not too much, not enough to mask the freckles that dust my nose and shoulders, and my figure is what my mother delicately refers to as “hourglass,” which I’m pretty sure is code for “still hasn’t shed the freshman fifteen.” Or the freshman twenty, in my case. At least the dress flatters. At least I can walk in the heels.

I orbit the room, clutching my glass, exchanging pleasantries with second cousins I’d only ever seen in Christmas cards until today. Aunt Marta’s already gossiping about the floral arch (“it’s silk, can you imagine, at these prices”) and one of Miranda’s high school friends is crying into her phone in the hallway. I keep my smile soft, unremarkable, and my eyes peeled for the only person in the room who matters, and who’s not yet here.

Him again.

Darnit, why can’t I stop thinking about him?

Again, technically, Trevor Cahill is my stepbrother. Practically, he is an event that happens to a room. I met him at the rehearsal dinner for our parents’ wedding, and he’s the kind of beautiful you’re supposed to be immune to once you reach a certain age, but my soul never got the memo. I don’t let myself think about him most days—he’s too old for me, too rich, too obviously not interested in anything but work and whatever gym created those shoulders—but the crush is there, a secret heat that curls low in my stomach every time someone mentions him. He’s thirty-five, he founded some startup that does something with AI, and he’s so far out of my league that I’ve never even bothered to embarrass myself by flirting with him.

Plus, he’s your brother, the voice in my head reminds me.

Right.

I’m so busy not thinking about that tricky little fact that I don’t notice the shift in the room until it’s already happened. It’s like the lights dim an extra shade, or the air thickens, and suddenly all the heads at my end of the hall are angled toward the double doors. I turn, just enough to see.

He’s in black—no, dark, dark charcoal, with a subtle check if you’re close enough to notice. The suit is sculpted to his body in a way that would read as vain if the man wasn’t built for it. He’s tall, not just over six feet but with the kind of posture that makes it look like the ceiling was designed for him. His hair is black, not brown or sandy or whatever all the boys at my college had, and it’s styled back with just enough shine to look effortless. He has the bone structure of a villain from an old movie, but his smile—when he aims it at the person working the coat check—melts something in my chest. There’s a silver tie, a white pocket square, and the kind of wristwatch I’ve only ever seen in magazine ads.

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The Deal – Dangerous Desires Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/the-deal-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:13:32 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-deal-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

He’s a powerful male who rules the house. Walking sin with fierce blue eyes. But the heat between us is undeniable.

Kent is a god among men—insanely hot, built like a wall of pure muscle, with a chiseled jaw and flashing eyes that make me melt with a single look. He commands every audience, but behind closed doors, he has a very private, very specific medical condition. He claims he has “testicular stones,” and the only way to relieve the excruciating, tight pressure is a daily, hands-on massage.

And he wants me to do the honors.
The terms of our deal are simple: I put my hands on him, give him the heavy, intimate relief he craves, and in return, he pays every single one of my bills.

It’s completely forbidden. It’s shameless. But the moment my fingers touch his bare skin and I hear the deep, rough gravel of his groan, the power dynamic shifts. Kent doesn’t just want treatment—he wants complete control. I know I’m playing a dangerous game with my mother’s husband, but with a man this insanely attractive demanding my touch … I’m ready to sign my name on the dotted line.

Wow, can you say, “the doctor is in”? Kent allegedly needs a hands-on medical caregiver, but why does it have to be the sassy brat doing the caregiving? And where’s Mary Kate’s mom in all this? Yes, these are questions that you’ll have to read to find the answers to, so strap your seatbelts on for a wild ride because soon, the beautiful blonde has the older man in the palm of her hand – literally and figuratively! This book is a follow-up to The Bet, but my books can be read in any order. HEA guaranteed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

SUMMONED HOME

MARY KATE

My mattress is a raft in a sea of textbooks. I sit cross-legged in the dim lamplight, thumb tracing the conjugations of Italian verbs while the damp corners of a dog-eared Rick Steves guide jab my thigh. From the living room, someone’s shriek of laughter careens down the hall, ricocheting off the cheap drywall—Stella, or maybe Kayleigh. Even with my door closed, the apartment’s baked-in aroma seeps through: jasmine incense, stringy cheese from last week’s pizza, something older, sour and sweet, that clings to thrifted carpet like a ghost of college parties past.

I roll my neck side to side, trying to unknot the muscles there, and page deeper into the textbook, searching for a phrase I could actually use if I ever made it to Italy: Mi scusi. Per favore. Vorrei un caffè doppio. The fantasy of Rome is the only thing with a pulse in this cave of a room, and even that is on life support.

My phone vibrates, a little shudder in the pile of sheets beside me. The screen is upside down, but I don’t need to look to know it’s my mother. She never texts, only calls, as if typed words aren’t real unless they’re spoken aloud and clamped into existence with her sharp vowels.

I thumb the phone over, squinting at the blue-lit display. Jeannine Ashton, my last name appended by habit or warning, as if I might have confused her with another Jeannine.

I answer on the third ring, out of spite or submission. The voice on the other end is low and deliberate, each sentence opening with a breathy inhale like a talk show host stalling for drama.

“Mary Kate, sweetheart. You have a minute?”

I pull the guidebook free and drop it onto the pillow, smothering the picture of the Colosseum with my palm. “Sure, Mom. What’s up?”

A long, practiced pause. “I need your help.”

I pause myself.

“Yeah of course. What’s up, Mom?”

Jeannine lets out a dramatic sigh. “It’s about Kent. Your stepfather. He’s not doing so well right now. I—” She breathes in. “He needs someone around the house for a while.”

I pick at a scab of sticker residue on the spine of the textbook, refusing to let my voice betray the heat I feel along the back of my neck. “What do you mean, he’s not well?”

Jeannine sighs theatrically again. “He’s not dying, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s just compromised. Forgetful, sometimes a little confused. The doctors think it’ll stabilize, but until then, someone should keep an eye on him. The house is too big to be alone in.”

My heart races because my stepdad’s a successful physician himself. If other doctors are saying it’s bad, then it must be bad.

“But what does he have?” I ask. “What’s so serious?”

“It’s long and complicated, baby,” my mom says in a hurry. “I’ll explain in detail when you get here.”

Okay, that sounds fishy, but I take a breath because what’s more important is that I figure out the contours of this assignment stat.

“So for how long do you need me? You know I’m sharing an apartment with Kayleigh and Stella right now, and rent’s not cheap. Andie moved out, so we’re only splitting the rent three ways now.”

Another beat. Then: “I don’t know how long, but I need you to move back home asap. It’s only temporary, so I’m sure you can keep your apartment in the meantime.”

A warmth blooms in my chest, something equal parts dread and forbidden thrill. I press the heel of my hand hard into the guidebook, letting the edge bite into my skin.

I say, “But aren’t you there? Why does he need me too?”

Jeannine’s tone is airy.

“Oh yes, I’ll be around, but he needs more than one person.” Another pause, longer now, as if she expects me to fill it. “And Kent—he listens to you. He always did. You’re the only one who can talk sense into your stepfather.”

I laugh, a brittle sound. “He’s not exactly the ‘listen to reason’ type. He’s a successful, experienced physician, Jeannine. He’s definitely not listening to a college co-ed who’s never even had a full-time job.”

But my mom’s not dissuaded.

“Come home, Mary Kate.” Her tone is a closed door. “Please. I need to know he’s not going to burn the house down.”

I picture the mansion: the endless, echoing staircases, the kitchen where everything is polished steel and nobody ever eats, the patio dripping with wisteria. Kent’s kingdom, bought in full after he and my mother married, my own old room preserved like a specimen. My high school posters, the stack of Sweet Valley Highs, the pink desk lamp collecting dust.

I pull the phone from my ear, setting it on speaker. I listen to Jeannine’s voice through the tinny grill while I rub circles into my bare thigh. “What exactly do you want me to do? Medically, I mean?”

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The Bet – Dangerous Desires Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/the-bet-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:02:43 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-bet-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

He’s my best friend’s dad. Older. Gorgeous. Intense. And I want my first time to be with him.

Andie Crenshaw is tired of being “untouched.” When her best friends propose a high-stakes bet to see who can lose their v-card first, she’s determined to win. She wants her first time to be unforgettable, but she never imagined it would be with a man like Thomas Moreland.

Thomas is a force of nature–a billionaire powerhouse with a commanding presence and a body that belongs in a museum. He’s devastatingly handsome, ruggedly built, and possessive in a way that makes Andie’s blood sing. But it’s not just his status or his piercing gaze that leaves her breathless; it’s the sheer, massive reality of him. The alpha male’s built like a god, thick and long, promising a level of intensity that Andie’s virgin body isn’t prepared for, but desperately craves.

After one night of earth-shattering, high-heat passion, Andie thinks she’s won the jackpot. That is, until the lights come up and the truth comes out.

The man who just claimed her in the most primal way possible isn’t just a stranger. He’s a college trustee, a titan of industry, and–most forbidden of all–he’s her best friend’s dad.

Andie’s technically won the bet, but the prize is more dangerous than she ever imagined. Falling for her best friend’s father is a scandal that could ruin everything, especially when Thomas decides that one night wasn’t enough. The billionaire wants to own her, and he always claims what belongs to him.

The Bet is a scorching, age-gap romance featuring a massive, dominant hero, a saucy co-ed with a naughty mouth, and a wager that goes deliciously wrong. It’s a best friend’s dad romance with so many steamy scenes, you’ll need an ice cold drink to keep down the heat as you read! This book is a follow-up to Office Hours, but like all of my stories, can be read out of order as a standalone. HEA guaranteed. 80k words

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

THE WAGER

Andie

I’m pretty sure if the Minneapolis Fire Marshal ever poked his head in my dorm room, he’d condemn it immediately. It’s square, tiny, with poor ventilation, and it looks like a small pack of raccoons have been living here for a semester, when actually, it’s just me and my buddy, Simone.

Even crazier, I haven’t seen Simone in forever because she’s engaged in a torrid affair with her English Professor, Liam Thomas. I get it because that guy is H-O-T in capital letters, but still, he’s old. Professor Thomas is at least thirty-five, but from the way Simone moons over him, it’s clear that age is nothing but a number to that girl.

So yes, my buddy is AWOL once again (probably because she’s with her boyfriend), and I’m taking the opportunity to lounge around the room with three of my closest friends—Stella Moreland, Mary Kate Ashton, and Kayleigh McEnroe.

There’s not a clean surface in sight. Textbooks are stacked like makeshift barricades. A web of phone chargers snags around the bedposts. The air is a humid mixture of coconut body lotion, Bath & Body Works body spray, and the persistent undertone of microwave popcorn, which is Kayleigh’s primary food group. There are enough empty Diet Coke cans on my desk to build a scale model of the Minneapolis skyline. My own reflection in the smudgy window gives me a look of mild panic and perpetual sleep deprivation—cute, in a midwestern, Girl Next Door About To Lose Her Shit kind of way.

Stella’s on my bed, cross-legged, blonde hair spilling over her shoulder in a messy braid that’s about three hours from coming totally undone. She’s painting her toenails neon orange, meticulous and unhurried. Kayleigh’s perched on my desk chair, bare feet up on my dresser, scrolling through TikTok with an expression that’s half-zoned, half-murderous. Mary Kate’s sprawled on the floor, knees up, eating Goldfish crackers one by one while she reads a battered paperback romance. All of us are variations on the same theme: curvy girls who are Minnesota nice with a side of passive aggression. If we ever committed a murder, the lineup would be an administrative nightmare.

Again, the only one missing is my roommate Simone, whose drama is the reason we’re having this impromptu girls’ summit in the room. When Kayleigh finally puts her phone down on my dresser, it’s with the exasperated flourish of a sitcom mom whose kids won’t stop bickering.

“Okay, can we talk about how that girl has been MIA for, like, ever? I don’t think I’ve seen her in class for like two weeks,” Kayleigh says, flipping her ponytail with the athletic aggression of someone who played volleyball in high school and still doesn’t understand why she didn’t get recruited.

Mary Kate makes a little tsk sound, but doesn’t look up from her book. “She was here at six this morning,” she says, “crying in the shower. I could hear it as I brushed my teeth.”

Stella’s braid swings as she looks up, her mouth puckered with concentration. “Did she say what happened?”

I roll my eyes so hard I can practically see my own brain stem. “Nothing happened. Or, more specifically, the same thing that’s been happening for the last, oh, I don’t know—” I check my phone for dramatic effect. “Eight weeks and four days.”

Kayleigh snorts. “Simone and Professor Daddy Drama?”

I reach for the giant economy-size bag of Cheetos under my bed and try to resist the urge to just stuff my face into it. “Girlfriend’s not even subtle about it anymore. I mean, this morning she said she was going to ‘study’ at the library. In full makeup, a miniskirt, and over-the-knee boots. Who studies like that? She looked like a discount Kylie Jenner.”

Mary Kate giggles, but Stella looks a little scandalized. “You think she’s sleeping with Professor Thomas?”

I fish out a fistful of Cheetos and savor the satisfying crackle. “Sleeping with him, fighting with him, possibly plotting to kill him. All of the above.”

Kayleigh leans forward, hungry for gossip. “Okay but like, isn’t he supposed to be married?”

“No, he’s divorced,” I correct, dusting neon orange powder onto my yoga pants. “I know that for sure. But allegedly he’s knocked up a couple girls around campus, or something messy like that. Simone says it’s ‘complicated,’ but honestly, the only thing complicated is her taste in men.”

There’s a lull while Mary Kate tries and fails to surreptitiously snap a selfie, pretending to show off her “new lip gloss” to her 3000 Instagram followers, but I can see she’s trying to catch me mid-Cheeto. I flip her off with a cheesy finger, which makes Stella giggle so hard she wobbles the nail polish brush and gets polish on her ankle.

“Simone’s been so moody lately,” Mary Kate says, finally putting her phone down and focusing on the conversation. “Yesterday she came back from class and just, like, walked past me in the hall. No eye contact, no hello, no nothing.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >99

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Office Hours – Dangerous Desires Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/office-hours-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:47:12 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/office-hours-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >110

He’s the dark, gorgeous temptation she should be running from.

Professor Liam Thomas is every girl’s dream in a bespoke suit—stern, dominant, and completely off-limits. He doesn't just teach; he commands the room with a precise, forbidding authority that makes every girl at Century College tremble.

Simone is a scholarship student one failing grade away from losing everything. Desperate and drowning, she makes a reckless a short skirt, a tight tee, and a private visit to Liam’s office.

She expected a lecture.

She didn't expect to be commanded to her knees.

Yet as the stacks of the library give way to the heat of his bedroom, the "tutoring" turns into a dark obsession. Liam isn't just grading Simone’s papers; he’s tracking her every move, her health, and her future.

The semester is ending, but her real education is just beginning because in Liam’s world … the only way to pass is to obey!

This steamy professor-student romance will make you squeal, sigh, and tear up with all the feels. This story is a follow-up to Cabin Fever, but like all of my books, can be read on its own. HEA guaranteed. 93k words

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

BAD GIRLS TAKE RISKS

SIMONE

I’m late to class—again—which means everyone’s already assembled when I slip in, and all heads are pointed at the front, watching Professor Thomas write MELVILLE in long, decisive strokes on the whiteboard. His broad back ripples beneath the blue button down, his ebony hair gleaming in the light. He caps the marker with a little pop, and I swear, the girl three rows down from me gasps audibly because Professor Thomas is that magnetic.

I drop into a seat in the back row, and immediately cross my legs. The pleated skirt creeps up; the hemline’s a little much, but I’m a scholarship kid and this is the best I could do at the Buffalo Exchange on 6th Street. The baby tee is tight enough to push my boobs up, which is exactly the point. Everyone here knows why you sign up for Thomas’s class, and it has nothing to do with 19th-century American literature.

It’s the professor himself—Liam Thomas, PhD, thirty-five, black hair swept back in waves, blue eyes like a North Sea murder mystery, and the kind of chest that makes you wonder if he played rugby professionally or if he just benches a lot of existential guilt. He paces, hands behind his back, reading off a thin stack of notecards while never really looking at them. I think: if I flunk this class, I lose my scholarship and get sent back to West Texas. But I also think: I want him to look at me the way he looks at that Melville book in his briefcase. Maybe it’s just a book, but I can feel the fire.

He sweeps the room with his eyes, speaking low and even, like the words are secret and he’s not sure who’s worthy of them. “Why is Moby Dick white?” he asks. Nobody says anything. The question hangs in the air, sticky and moist, the kind that makes people squirm in their seats. “McCall?” he asks with a pointed look my way.

I sit up straight, ponytail bouncing. “Um—” I realize I wasn’t listening, which is the story of my academic life. “Melville uses the color white as a symbol for ambiguity. Innocence, but also emptiness, blankness. It’s like a paradox. The whale is everything and nothing.”

Professor Thomas gives me a slow nod, just enough approval to keep me hooked. “Good. Melville’s ambiguity is part of the novel’s terror.” He walks down the aisle, voice growing softer as he nears the back row, where I sit alone. Everyone else is clustered up front. He stops right by my desk. I feel his presence like a hand around my throat, gentle but unyielding. “Do you agree, Miss McCall? Is terror a lack, or an abundance?”

My lips are dry. “Both, maybe.”

He stares at me for a second longer than necessary, and my cheeks catch fire. I swear he’s about to say something else, but then the girl in the front row—Victoria, or Veronica, or something with a V—leans over the table, her platinum extensions gleaming in the dusty sunlight, and raises her hand.

“Yes, Miss Vasquez?”

She blinks up at him, lashes like windshield wipers. “Isn’t Ahab’s obsession with the whale also a metaphor for sexual repression?”

The room titters. Thomas smiles—more with his eyes than his mouth—and perches on the edge of the desk, one arm braced on his knee. “That’s an interesting reading, Miss Vasquez. Melville’s language is famously charged, but whether it’s about sex is…debatable.”

Victoria/Veronica doesn’t blink; she’s in full attack mode. “But the language is so, like, penetrative. All the harpoons, the chase, the penetration of the whale’s body…”

He holds her gaze, then turns his face slowly back to me. “What do you think, McCall? Is the whale hunt about sex?”

My tongue tangles. For a second, the only thing I can think is: He’s talking to me. Only me. “I think it’s more about obsession. Like, the violence of wanting something you can never really have. The way it eats you up.”

Professor Thomas looks down at his notecards, but I catch the corner of his mouth curve upward. “Well put.”

I sink back in my seat, heart drilling. There’s a tremor in my hands as I doodle a sperm whale on the margin of my notes. The guy three rows in front of me, who smells faintly of bong water and deodorant even from afar, cranes his head and whispers, “You nailed it, Simone.”

I force a smile and twist my pencil between my fingers, resisting the urge to snap it in half. Why can’t I just pay attention for once? I should be absorbing every word, but all I can do is replay Professor Thomas’s voice in my head, the roughness in it, the way he savors certain syllables. I imagine him grading my essay, his big hands tearing the paper in two, and then my brain goes blank.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >110

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Cabin Fever – Dangerous Desires Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/cabin-fever-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Wed, 20 May 2026 17:46:11 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/cabin-fever-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

The job was supposed to be $5,000 a month to assist a reclusive author in his remote mountain cabin. But soon, it’s turned into something seductively steamy, with the growly mountain man intent on claiming the curvy girl until she belongs to HIM.

For Kat Vreeland, a struggling creative writing student drowning in tuition debt, it’s an offer she can’t refuse. No more double shifts at the coffee shop, no more “friendly reminders” from the bursar. All she has to do is provide “research assistance” for world-famous author Talon McKnight.

But Talon isn’t looking for someone to organize his files. He’s looking for a muse to help him break a brutal case of writer’s block.

The “research” involves acting out the steamier scenes of his next novel—scenarios that blur the lines between fiction and a very raw, very real attraction. From a lost Red Riding Hood meeting a hungry huntsman to a forbidden encounter between a professor and his student, Kat finds herself falling deeper into the roles Talon creates for her.

In the isolation of the woods, the script begins to feel like reality. But as the deadline for Talon’s book approaches, Kat is forced to Is she the leading lady of a real-life love story, or just a temporary character in a fictional bestseller?

In a world of “Sweet Lies,” can a mountain man’s obsession turn into a forever kind of love?

Grab your copy of this steamy romance now! HEA guaranteed, and as always, my books are standalones and can be read in any order. 75k words

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE - RED RIDING HOOD AND THE HUNTSMAN

TALON

The forest floor was a carpet of damp moss and fallen leaves, each step I took a soft crunch that betrayed my presence. I was playing the part, a huntsman tracking more than just game today. And there she was, just as we’d planned, my little Red Riding Hood, looking deliciously lost and innocent. Her crimson cloak was a splash of impossible color against the deep greens and browns of the woods, the hood cast over her golden hair. She looked up, her wide, blue eyes—Kat’s eyes, really—fixing on me with a perfect mimicry of feigned fear.

“Please, sir,” she began, her voice a breathless whisper that sent a jolt straight to my groin. “I think I’m lost. I was just gathering kindling...” She gestured with a small, empty basket to a pathetic pile of twigs at her feet. The roleplay was already igniting the air between us, the scent of pine and earth mixing with the raw, musky scent of my own arousal.

“Lost, little one?” I rumbled, letting my gaze sweep over her, taking in the way the cloak skimmed her generous curves. “These woods can be a dangerous place for a young girl all alone.” I took another step closer, the space between us shrinking, charged with anticipation. “I’m Talon. A huntsman. Perhaps I can help you.”

The beautiful blonde’s bottom lip trembled. “Oh, would you? I just wanted to get back to the path, but everything looks the same.”

“I know these woods better than my own hand,” I said, my voice dropping lower. “But there’s a toll for passage.” I let my hand rest on the front of my worn leather trousers, right over the hardened length of my shaft. “A price for my protection.”

Kat’s eyes, still wide with that theatrical innocence, darted down to my hand and then back up to my face. A flicker of pure, unadulterated lust—her own, shining through the character—passed through them before being masked again. “A... a toll?” she stammers. “But I have nothing to give you, Sir Huntsman.”

“You have everything to give me,” I growled, closing the final distance. I grabbed her wrist, not roughly, but with an undeniable claim. “And I have something for you as well. Something to keep you warm on these cold nights.” I led her behind a thicket of ancient, moss-covered oaks, their branches forming a leafy canopy above us. Here, the light was dappled and green, our own private bower.

She gasped as I spun her around to face a broad tree trunk, pressing her against it. My body caged hers, my hips pinning her soft ass against my straining erection. “Please,” she whimpered, but the arch of her back told me her plea was a lie.

“Shhh, Little Red,” I murmured against the shell of her ear, my breath hot. “The big bad wolf isn’t the only one who wants to eat you up.” I flipped up her cloak, my hands immediately finding the hem of her simple cotton dress. I bunched it up around her waist, exposing the smooth, pale roundness of her ass and the sheer, already-damp lace of her thong. I groaned, running a rough palm over the curve of her cheek. “Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.”

“You’re a bad man,” she breathed, pushing her hips back against my hand like a horny slut.

“And you’re a wicked little girl, wandering the woods dressed like this, tempting a hungry huntsman.” I hooked my fingers into the thin string of her thong and pulled it down her legs. Kat stepped out of it willingly, me watching with satisfaction as a silvery string of pussy juice connecting her sweetness to the gusset grew long and then broke.

“You’ve got a horny little cunt, don’t you? Let me take care of it, sweetheart.”

I knelt, spreading her cheeks with my hands, and blew a hot stream of air over her puckered hole and the glistening folds of her cunt.

“Talon,” she moaned, her voice breaking.

“What was that, Little Red?” I asked, my tongue darting out for a quick, teasing taste of her juices. She shuddered. “Ah, that’s better. Begging for it already.” I stood and quickly undid the lacings of my trousers. My cock sprang free, thick and heavy, the head already beading with pre-cum. It was hard as iron, a weapon of pure steel, ready to plunder.

I gripped the base, stroking it once, twice. “Look at this,” I commanded. “This is my axe, and I’m going to use it to split your cunt open.”

Kat turned her head, her gaze locking onto my shaft. A true, unbidden moan escaped her lips. “It’s so big, Sir Huntsman! Please be gentle.”

“Big enough to chop down this forest,” I grunted, lining the head up with her slick entrance. I didn’t push in right away. I just rested it there, letting her feel the heat and weight of my member. “Tell me what you want, Red Riding Hood. Tell the woodsman what you need.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

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One Taboo Night – Dangerous Devotion Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/one-taboo-night-dangerous-devotion-read-online-s-e-law Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:09:59 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/one-taboo-night-dangerous-devotion-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Erotic, Taboo Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >65

I ended up with not one man … but two.

I signed up to be a paralegal at Gibson Grant because I wanted to dig up evidence to exonerate my dad. But the partner in charge, Brent Gibson, is a total a$$hole, even if he’s mouthwateringly gorgeous with broad shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and abs like a washboard. That jerk says he’ll help me discover evidence, but only if I learn to take certain “objects” into my sassy form.

What in the world?

But the handsome attorney is serious. First, it’s pens …

Then we move to Sharpies …

Then digits …

And finally, he wants me to try two!

Because now, his law partner is in the room … and I’m supposed to please them both!

I offered the sassy blonde a bargain. Sure, I’ll help Marnie exonerate her dad. It’s not a big deal, except it is because I want to play with the innocent young girl in return. I defile the beautiful paralegal step by step until she’s panting and gasping for air because in the end, she’ll be taking both me AND my friend. Wrong? Depraved? Unfair, even?

Absolutely . But it’ll be one hell of a night filled with taboos!

Holy smokes. What kind of paralegal job is this? But watch as Brent and James guide their innocent young charge through ascending levels of depravity until she’s a shivering, panting mess. Yes, that’s right! One Taboo Night spins out of control, and by the end, Marnie’s in love with two powerful, dominating attorneys who give her a night to remember. Get your iced tea ready because you’ll need a cool drink to keep the temperature down! No swords cross because this is all about her. This book is a follow-up to Massive Size Mountain Man, but all of my tales are standalones and can be read in any order. HEA guaranteed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE – DIRTY DREAMS

Marnie

The moonlight sliced through a gap in my curtains, painting a silver stripe across my rumpled duvet. It was quiet. Too quiet. The only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the frantic, shallow rhythm of my own breathing.

Because in my head, it wasn't quiet at all.

You take us so well, Marnie. James's voice, a low, dark purr, vibrated through my dream-scape. He was behind me, a solid wall of heat, one big hand splayed across my lower back, holding me in place. His other hand gripped my hip, his fingers digging in, branding me.

So tight, so perfect, Brent growled from the front, his own hands tangling in my hair, tilting my head back. He was all heavy, hard chest and a clean, masculine scent, his blue eyes burning into mine with an intensity that made my toes curl. Look at me when I'm inside you, baby girl.

My dream-self obeyed, my breath hitching as they moved in a devastating, synchronized rhythm. The fullness was overwhelming, a deep, stretching ache that bordered on pain but was pure, exquisite pleasure. Every nerve ending was alight, firing on all cylinders, a circuit completed by the two powerful men who had somehow taken over my entire existence.

In the real world, my body followed the fantasy. My hands moved with a practiced, desperate urgency. One gripped the sleek, curved glass of my favorite dildo, easing it into my slick heat. The other, fumbling slightly in the dark, found the smaller, smoother plug, its cool surface a shock against my heated skin. I pressed it against my tightest entrance, breathing through the initial resistance, the sensation a perfect mimicry of James's dominant entry in my dream.

Please, I whimpered, the sound half-lost in my pillow. The plea was for them, for Brent and James, even as my own hands drove me higher.

Please what, sweetheart? Brent's lips brushed my temple. Tell us what you need.

More. I need more.

And they gave it to me. The dream-pace quickened, a brutal, beautiful dance. My hands mirrored their urgency, the dual friction of two cocks in my body building a coil of tension so deep inside me I thought I might shatter. The sounds were wet, obscene, and the most beautiful music I'd ever heard. I could feel it building, the crest of the wave, the peak of the rollercoaster just before the drop.

Come for us, Marnie. Now. James's command was absolute, a trigger pulled directly on my soul.

My back arched off the bed, a silent scream catching in my throat before it tore free.

"James! Brent! Oh god, mmmmm!"

The names were ripped from my body, sharp and clear in the quiet bedroom. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me, so intense it was almost violent. My pussy clenched, my asshole dissolving into powerful spasms as I imagined the two cocks creaming deep inside, filling me with virile, salty spunk.

“Ooooh,” I moaned again, insensate, my curvy body tossing against the sheets. My hands still moved instinctively to draw out every last shock of sensation, the two dildos stretching and fucking my holes slowly, gently, as the ripples subsided.

And then, silence.

The only thing left was the frantic thumping of my own heart and the slick, cooling evidence of my fantasy on my skin and the sheets. The moonlight seemed colder now, harsher. The silver stripe on my duvet looked less like magic and more like a spotlight, exposing me.

I lay there, boneless and panting, the echoes of their names slowly fading in the air. The afterglow, usually so warm and comforting, was rapidly evaporating, replaced by a familiar, creeping dread.

What in God's name was I doing?

My breathing hitched for a whole new reason. Brent and James. My bosses. The two men who held my father's good name, and by extension my own, in their firm, tanned hands. They were twenty-five years my senior, and the name partners at the law firm where I worked. What was I doing, tangling with them?

Because I’ve always thought of myself as a good girl. A girl who does her homework, and who gets straight A’s. But now, I was having dirty, raunchy, filthy sex with my two bosses in conference rooms, in their offices, and even in the shared kitchen once. We were going to be caught, and I’d be ruined. There’d be no way for my dad’s name to ever be cleared.

But even as my breathing retuned to normal, a desperate ache reawakened in my pussy because that’s what Brent Gibson and James Grant do to me. I may be nothing but a sexy little paralegal to the older men, to be used, fingered and fucked to their hearts’ content. But at the same time, I could sense that our relationship was becoming more, pulling all three of us deeper, deeper, deeper … until we’d be lost to the depravity of our actions.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >65

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Massive Size Mountain Man – Date Night in the Mountains Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/massive-size-mountain-man-date-night-in-the-mountains-read-online-s-e-law Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:29:01 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/massive-size-mountain-man-date-night-in-the-mountains-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

I was gifted to the massive mountain man as part of a dirty service.

Avalon:
I signed up with Sweet Lies because I thought the dating site would be fun but predictable. I’d do the regular stuff: flirt with older men while drinking champagne and looking pretty.
But then, I’m hired for a special assignment. I’ve been gifted to a man living in a cabin …
… and it’s the mountain man’s right to use my curves as he pleases!
OMG!
Even better, Liam’s gorgeous because he’s absolutely huge, with a chest like a wall, six pack abs, and massive biceps from chopping wood. In fact, the mountain man sports an axe so big and thick that I sink to my knees in awe …
… because now, I have to have it!

Liam:
There was a knock on the door, and a sweet girl stands on my doorstep, looking as innocent as a doe. Avalon says she’s here to “babysit,” but I have other things in mind.
Sure, she’ll be “babysitting”…
The curvy girl will be sitting tight …
… as her eyes go wide …
… a cry of joy escaping her plush lips …
… because soon, my innocent “babysitter” will be my luscious and ripe baby mama!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Avalon

Itake my rag out of the back pocket of my jeans and throw it into the laundry bin before hanging my apron up on its designated hook. Then, I glance into the foggy mirror in the staff room while patting my hair. No smeared make-up? Blonde hair reasonably neat? Good, good.

Not that it matters because my friend Courtney has come to the café during my break with her new baby, Johnny, and she’s the least judgmental person ever. Court used to work here as well, but then she met the man of her dreams, so she quit and left me all alone! I miss my buddy dearly, and when I said that I had a twenty minute break today, she agreed to bring her newborn to meet me. It’s the only time we could find to catch up, and I’m so grateful to Court for stopping by.

I step from the staff room into the café, and immediately spot my friend. Courtney squeals when she sees me, the baby strapped to her chest.

“Hi Av!” she giggles while giving me a big hug. “Oh my god, you look radiant.”

“No, I don’t,” I say in a wry tone. “I got coffee stains on my shirt through the apron, can you believe it? The Northstar Café is so cheap when it comes to stuff. It’s really unbelievable.”

Courtney clucks and nods as we sit down at a small table, the baby snoozing against her.

“I know, and I can’t believe you’re still here, Avalon. Seriously, Northstar is rough and there are better places.”

I shoot her a wry look.

“You mean, like where your sister, Annabel, used to work?”

Court rolls her eyes.

“Oh my god, don’t even get me started on the Birchwood Cafe. Can you believe that she was propositioned by a run club while on shift? And that her boss expected her to say yes to the gangbang because it’s “part of her job”?”

I shake my head, still aghast at the news.

“No, it’s insane, and I’m glad Annabel’s boyfriend put that café out of business once he found out. It must be so nice to be with a powerful man who can make things happen.”

Court nods thoughtfully.

“Yeah, although my brother-in-law says he didn’t have anything to do with the Birchwood Café’s demise. Hunter says that the cafe was badly mismanaged and went down the tubes all by itself, but I don’t know. You know how powerful men are. They can make things happen through unseen means, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Hunter finagled their bankruptcy somehow.”

I shake my head, eyes wide.

“Yeah, it must be so nice to be married to a powerful man like that,” I reiterate. “Speaking of which, you have your own powerful man now! What’s it like, being an old married lady with a baby? Johnny is too cute, by the way. But are we going to wake him up with our chatting?”

Courtney smiles sweetly while cupping her newborn’s head with one hand.

“No, because he sleeps like the dead,” she whispers conspiratorially while giving me a wink. “And I really am an old married lady now, with the emphasis on the word ‘old.’ I feel like I’ve aged twenty years in the last two!” she moans.

I shake my head.

“You’re not old, girlfriend. You’re what, twenty-one? You’re so gorgeous, Court, and no one can tell you’re a mom.”

“Yep, I’m twenty-one,” Court winks. “And everyone can tell I’m a mom because I’m so haggard and tired all the time, not to mention the spit-up staining my clothes 24/7.”

“Baby spit-up is normal,” I say in a mock-stern tone. “And you’re not haggard, Court. You’re just a new mom, that’s all, so it’s normal to feel tired all the time. You look great.”

My friend shoots me a whimsical smile.

“That’s why we’re buddies, Av. Because you always prop me up.”

“We prop each other up,” I retort immediately.

“We do,” Court agrees, musing on something. Then she shoots me a long look. “By the way, have you spoken with Stuart recently?”

I snort.

“No, and that douchebag better not contact me. I just know he’s dating someone else already.”

Stuart is my ex whom I dated throughout high school. In some lame rom-com, I thought we’d actually get married, but then he texted me about two months ago some long missive about “not being in the right place in life” and “wishing me the best.” WTF! First, who breaks up with a long-term girlfriend over text? Second, it sounded like his message was written by Chat GPT. Courtney told me to check for em dashes in the message, and sure enough, there were two. I guess the reasoning is that no one uses em dashes in real life, and definitely not over text, so the special character was a dead giveaway. Still, giveaway or not, I don’t care because Stuart’s text only called out the malaise that I’d been feeling myself. We got together too young, and were bored of one another. Breaking up was a good thing.

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His Taboo Kiss – Dangerous Desires Read Online S.E. Law http://www.booksnovels.com/his-taboo-kiss-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:28:19 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/his-taboo-kiss-dangerous-desires-read-online-s-e-law Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Billionaire, Erotic, Forbidden, Novella Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)

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The young woman came to my place to stay because she had nowhere else to go. Her mother had died, and left Jenna in my care. So I did what any honorable man I gave the young girl her own room and free rein of the house.

Payment?

A taboo kiss for each night she’s under my roof.

He didn’t tell me what the taboo kiss was at first. So I figured it was just a joke, except billionaire alpha males don’t joke. Soon, Rick had me breathy and panting because Daddy’s special kisses feel so good … and now, I’m pregnant with his baby!

Wow. Just Wow. It’s another story with a forbidden situation, and this one is filthier than most. Jenna’s mom dies, and asks her boss to take her daughter in as she finishes high school. What she didn’t expect was for said employer to be insanely attracted to the young woman, and soon, you guessed it … filthy, taboo kisses are happening every night! Bring a fire extinguisher because the heat in this story is EXTRA SPICY! This tale is a follow-up to Massive Size Mountain Man, but all of my stories are standalones and can be read in any order. HEA guaranteed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Rick

Ilook around ruefully at my spacious hotel accommodations. Not only do I have a giant bedroom with an attached en suite, but there’s also a living room with a huge flatscreen on the wall, a full-size kitchen complete with fancy dinnerware in case I decide to entertain, a dining room that seats twelve (again, in case I decide to entertain), and my own private dunk pool in case the resort’s four pools aren’t enough. Not to mention the ocean. There’s a view of the Pacific beyond the jacuzzi, and the horizon is a gorgeous blue that seems to continue forever in a dreamy, tropical seascape. All this for one guy? It’s ridiculous and over the top, but then again, when you have millions to spare, this is what money buys you.

After all, I’m the CEO of a billion dollar cosmetics business, and while it took a while for our first products to get traction, we now sell internationally via a number of different product lines. We don’t just sell our original brand, Tatti. We’ve also acquired brands such as Hey Girl, Drunk Dragon, Katy von D, NuSpace, and our latest, PureScience, in order to appeal to every kind of woman. We peddle everything, too, from lip glosses for pre-pubescent teens to the latest chemical compound promising to turn back time. We’ve also opened a line of medspas branded PureScience in order to complement our beauty products. Women will book a day of relaxation at our locations, and come in for some pampering, nutritious bites, and lemon water. They leave rejuvenated, refreshed, and their pocket books lighter by five figures. Beauty is expensive, and I’m the man selling the good stuff.

But with the good stuff comes the good life, and I like to show my gratitude. After all, running a conglomerate like Tatti means that I have to hire the right people, and as a result, Tatti doesn’t hold back when it comes to executive retreats. This year, we’ve booked the King Wailea Resort on the Big Island, and it puts the fictional White Lotus to shame because whereas the White Lotus was certainly luxurious, there were other guests present. By contrast, Tatti has booked the entire “Royal” section of the resort so that we don’t have to mix with other travelers. Everyone in this area is a Tatti employee, and we’re living it up.

But it’s fine because again, I didn’t get here by myself; I stood on the shoulders of others. The first being my grandmother, Tatti Purdy, who founded our business back when she was a young woman working the makeup counter at Lord and Taylor. Then, over the years there were a series of trusted advisers and executives who grew Tatti until we got to where we are today: a billion-dollar conglomerate recognized the world over, with no real competitors. Sure, there are the drugstore brands, and there are a ton of European wannabes, but there’s no one like Tatti. We effectively control the cosmetics market with our broad range of products; multiple lines; and subtle, yet effective marketing. It takes a lot of people to run a ship this big, and the executive retreat is where we show our appreciation.

But still, I get sick of these things because as CEO, there’s a lot of wining, dining, and networking to be done. I don’t know why people think that the top dog position is one where everyone caters to you, when I generally find it to be the opposite. Instead, I’m constantly talking to people, be it investors, analysts, employees, or competitors. I constantly have to be seen, and I constantly have to work on behalf of my company. An executive retreat is no exception, either, because it’s time for the top-level executives to show their benevolence and gratitude, and as a result, it’s even more important for me to see and be seen while pressing the flesh, a mega-watt smile on my face.

Clearly, the job follows me wherever I go, and as a result, the only time that I have to myself during jaunts like these is the early morning. It’s the only period when I don’t have a breakfast meeting, lunch meeting, cocktail hour, dinner tete-a-tete, or late evening drinks. Six to seven a.m. is the golden hour when I have privacy to enjoy the luxuries of the resort without being on the clock, and as a result, I grab my swim trunks and towel before heading off to the resort’s largest pool.

The day is still misty grey as I wend my way on a stone path, but I know the Hawaiian sun will show itself in a few hours. Now, however, the resort is relatively deserted, with just a few staff smiling as I pass, and I amble without hurry to a giant infinity pool situated in the far northern reaches of the resort. Hopefully, no one’s here and I’ll be able to get in a swim and a soak uninterrupted.

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