
Hot daddy's best friend
"You shouldn't be here, Fiona," his deep voice rasped against her ear, his hand still pressed against the wall behind her.
"Then tell me to leave," she whispered, her lips trembling inches from his. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. And in that moment, she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
Fiona Harry has lived her whole life in a golden cage of wealth, reputation, and suffocating rules. University was supposed to be her escape, her first taste of freedom. But nothing could prepare her for the moment she came face-to-face with Professor Jalen Hart, her father's best friend. One reckless night changes everything. A drunken mistake turns into an irresistible obsession, pulling her deeper into Jalen's forbidden world. But secrets don't stay hidden forever. Between Jude, her possessive friend who knows too much, Marian, Jalen's wicked wife, and the dangerous power of desire, Fiona is about to risk not only hers and her family's reputation but her entire future.
And what happens when the truth comes out especially to Marian?
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Chapter 2
Fiona's POV
The voice rang ever so familiar. I froze in place as my dream replayed in my mind. The sound, the tone-everything felt the same. But my memory faded before I could fully recall his voice. Maybe it was just my illusion, I thought.
I excused myself quietly and stepped away from the lively conversation, heading towards my room. But after just a few steps, my father's voice halted me.
"Fiona got admission into your university, isn't that exquisite? Come here, girl," he called.
Typically, my parents would treat me like a princess in front of everyone but like an outcast in private.
I rolled my eyes subtly and turned back to the grownups, forcing a polite smile.
"How brilliant, Fiona," Marian muttered, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "Your mother was telling me that you love art. I'm sure your tiny hands will grow some muscle by the time you resume."
Her words stung more than I wanted to admit. Her voice carried that familiar bitterness I'd always noticed from our neighbor's wife. I knew where it came from-jealousy. She could never have children, no matter how hard she tried. I did feel sorry for her, but deep down, I couldn't ignore the whispers I'd heard about her being dangerous. A part of me believed she deserved her misery.
"Marian, I'm sure she'll do just great," Mum replied proudly. "We did our best to train her well. My baby will make us proud. Right, baby?" She smiled at me.
"I'll try my best, Mum," I murmured, managing a small grin. Everyone laughed-everyone except Jalen. His eyes never left mine for a second, not until Marian tapped him gently.
"If you'll excuse me, I'd like to tidy my room," I said softly, turning on my heels before they could object.
But even as I walked away, I could still feel Jalen's gaze burning into me. I turned slightly, and yes-he was still watching. His eyes carried a knowing look, as though he understood something about me I didn't. It felt like he had so much he wanted to say but couldn't.
Once in my room, I forgot to lock the door behind me, and I've never experienced that. I have a habit of pulling off my clothes the moment I close my door and jumped onto my bed. My heart finally eased, though my mind couldn't stop circling back to Jalen-and that voice.
I hugged my pillow tightly, wondering how freedom would finally taste once I left this house.
I was drifting close to sleep when a knock landed softly on my door.
"Coming."
Jolting upright, I wrapped my towel loosely around me before running to get the door. My parents usually barged in without warning, and that has caused me to lock my door so that polite knock told me it wasn't them. Still, I wasn't expecting him.
"May I?" Jalen asked, peeking through the slightly open door.
"Sure," I replied quickly, opening the door slightly. Then my towel fell, exposing my naked body to him. I gasped, and my eyes widened as he stared at me deeply, his Adam's apple budged and he quickly turned away.
"Oh my god... I'm sorry, I," I stuttered, quickly picking up my towel. Heat surged through my throat and my face flushed.
"You should get dressed," he suggested, "I'll wait outside for a few minutes," he added.
"Oh no, um... I'll dress up in the bathroom, come in please," I gestured.
He stepped inside, his eyes scanning my room until they landed on one of my paintings. He walked closer, brushing his fingers lightly across the edge of the canvas.
"Your paintings are beautiful," he muttered while I dressed up. "Where do you get your inspiration from?"
"Thanks," I muttered. "Um... I just imagine things and paint them. Sometimes I get ideas from music, a little bit from nature, and mostly from exciting moments or emotions."
"Hmm." He nodded thoughtfully. "I see you prefer colorful tones to minimal aesthetics. That's good-it gives you a creative edge."
"You think so?" I asked, feeling the heat rise through my body as his gaze met mine again. My heart wouldn't stop pounding.
"I know so," he said softly. "Pardon me for walking into your room like this. Your dad mentioned you had some of your work I could look at, to see if you needed any guidance. But from what I see, you're doing just fine already-just a few brush improvements, and you'll be great."
I smiled shyly striding to my bed before sitting. I tried to keep my composure, but when he sat down beside me, my breath hitched. My hand pinched my thigh so hard it stung. For a moment, it felt like I was back in that dream again. His voice, smooth and deep, echoed through me.
I wanted him to say something again, just to confirm it. But I couldn't bring myself to ask.
"I should take my leave now," he finally spoke, standing up. "I guess I'll see you more often in school." he added. And I could swear I saw his length already hard.
As he turned, his finger brushed against my hand. The touch was light, but my entire body shivered. A soft moan slipped from my lips before I could stop it. I turned away quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed, then stood up.
"I'll see you out," I said quickly.
I took a few steps toward him-but my foot tangled with the edge of the rug, sending me tumbling forward. Jalen reached out to catch me, but we both lost our balance.
I landed on top of him, my palms pressed to his chest, our eyes locked. My lips parted slightly as I realized how dangerously close we were. His breath grazed my neck, sending a shiver through every inch of me.
His gaze deepened, intense and unspoken. My heartbeat grew louder, my body heated, and a tight ache spread through me.
He leaned closer-so close that our lips were only inches apart. I closed my eyes, waiting-wanting-just a touch.
But then-
"Honey? Jalen!" Marian's voice echoed down the hallway.
I jerked away from him immediately. He stood up, clearing his throat as he brushed dust off his neatly pressed suit.
"I... I'm... it wasn't-" I stuttered.
"It's not your fault," he said calmly. "I should go. See you in school."
And just like that, he left.
The door closed behind him, and I could faintly hear Marian's voice.
"There you are! I've been looking for you. Let's go home," she whispered.
I leaned against my door, breathing heavily, my palm pressed to my chest.
What just happened?
If Marian had walked in a second earlier, she would have caught us in that compromising position. The thought terrified me-but at the same time, what scared me more was how real it all felt. Exactly like my dream.
But I wasn't ready to come to any conclusions-not yet.
I walked to my wardrobe, pulled out my suitcase, and began packing my clothes. The thought of meeting him in school filled me with more excitement.
The morning of my freedom finally arrived. The cool wind brushed softly against my skin as I rolled my suitcase out the door. My father's driver was already waiting at the gate.
I glanced back once at my parents standing on the porch. With a faint smile, I waved goodbye as the car engine started, and we drove off, my excitement grew with every passing mile. My face stayed glued to the window, watching the world blur by until we finally arrived at the university.
I stepped out slowly, taking in the grand sight before me.
For a moment, everything went still. The excitement faded into nerves. A shiver crept up my spine, and chills spread across my skin.
I was here.
Finally free-
But somehow, the air around me felt strange.
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8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."

9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.

7.9
After her twin brother's unexplained death at Alpha Academy, Alexandria Hyde takes his place and his name to uncover the truth. Now living as "Alex," she's thrown into a world of hot, testosterone-fueled Alphas who fight to the brink of death... and she has to survive it while hiding who she really is.
But staying hidden isn't easy–
Not when the Alphas start noticing her.
Not when the truth she's chasing might destroy her first.
And definitely not when they start fighting for her instead.

9.2
Clara was drowning in student debt and barely making rent when she downloaded a fantasy mobile game to escape reality.
Inside the game, an exiled prince named Alex was freezing to death. Pitying him, she spent her last few dollars on microtransactions to fix his shelter and cure his poison.
But the game was far too real.
Every time she paid, the prince reacted. When she complained aloud about going broke, the in-game army suddenly halted, as if the prince had heard her voice.
Then, the terrifying real-world consequences hit.
Clara woke up to find her water glass and a box of Kleenex had vanished from her locked bedroom overnight.
She frantically searched the tiny apartment, her heart pounding in her chest.
She thought she was losing her mind. Had she thrown them out in her sleep? Was there a stalker hiding in her home?
How could physical objects just disappear into thin air behind a deadbolted door?
Until she looked at her nightstand.
Sitting exactly where her missing items used to be was a glowing, weightless crystal cup that defied all logic.
And on her laptop screen, the exiled prince was carefully holding her Kleenex box, offering a mountain of real gold on an altar.
She hadn't just downloaded a mobile game; she had opened a cross-dimensional trade route with a desperate future king.

7.8
My abusive ex was threatening a lawsuit that would destroy my father's career and wipe out my PhD. I was completely out of options.
That night, Graham, the boy from next door I hadn't seen in a decade, showed up at my apartment in the middle of a hurricane. Now a wealthy orthopedic surgeon, he offered a transactional marriage: he needed a local wife to keep his family away while he cared for his sick mother, and in return, he would make my ex disappear.
I thought it was a simple deal. But the morning after we signed the marriage license, Graham didn't just scare my ex off—he ruthlessly dismantled him. Then, Graham turned to me. His eyes were dead as he pulled out his phone, showing me a high-resolution photo of the night I illegally sold lab samples to pay off my ex's initial blackmail. He had hired a private investigator to stalk me. If that photo leaked to the FDA, I wouldn't just lose my degree; I'd go to prison.
"I needed a guarantee," he said flatly.
I was shaking with rage and terror. This wasn't a rescue. It was a hostage situation. Why did he hunt me down? Why use my darkest secret to trap me in this twisted marriage?
I couldn't live like this. I demanded an immediate divorce. But at the courthouse, the clerk dropped a bomb on us: state law required a mandatory thirty-day waiting period. Thirty days trapped with a ruthless, manipulative stranger. I had to find a way to break his leverage before the month was up.

7.2
Allie Patterson poured fifteen years into her husband Grayson’s tech startup, living in a cramped San Jose apartment. Every penny, every late night coding session, was for their shared future, built on his constant claims the company struggled, always on the verge of its big break.
Then, a grant deed arrived: a stunning $4.2 million Atherton villa, paid in full, listing Grayson and an unknown Kacey Schmidt as joint tenants.
Her coffee mug shattered as Allie’s world imploded. Driving to the mansion, she found Kacey in silk pajamas, flaunting a massive pink diamond and, beneath it, Grayson’s grandmother’s heirloom ring – the one he’d tearfully claimed to have lost years ago.
Kacey purred, "He's in the shower. We were so tired last night."
The words were a serrated knife, twisting, confirming years of lies.
Humiliation and rage burned out, leaving a terrifying, absolute silence. All her sacrifice and trust were a cruel, elaborate joke, orchestrated by the man she loved.
Allie calmly took photos, then gave herself one minute in her beat-up car to mourn. When it passed, her tears stopped, replaced by cold, calculated murder in her eyes. She typed a text to Grayson:
"Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you."