THE DARE: hit on my highschool teacher
Few weeks until graduation everything should go smoothly. That's what Cephan Miller thought until he was dared to sleep with his highschool teacher, Miss Abby Sean, the beautiful but reserved teacher who was always on her own.
He did have sex with her, but from then onwards, he wanted to keep doing it.
He knew it was dangerous, but kept on with it.
Rated 18+
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Chapter 4
Abby opened her eyes, she had slept past her usual time, but she didn't bother. Her whole body felt sore and she wondered what had happened, then the realization hit her - she had slept with Cephan Miller, for the second time.
She turned over to the other side to see Cephan wearing his hoodie. His muscles flexed as the hoodie went down to his waist.
"If you keep staring at me like that you might not be able to walk for days," he teased, brushing his hair with his fingers.
He smelled like pineapple.
"You already showered?" He nodded, taking his phone from the bed.
Cephan eyed her body, he couldn't understand the growing hunger in him - the hunger to devour her, but he composed himself.
"You should cover up too," he said, eyeing her breast again. Abby looked at her body realizing she was completely naked.
"I'll be leaving, thanks a bunch, Miss Abby."
"To where?" She asked eager to know. From what she knew about this man, he wasn't really on good terms with his drunken father, it was an open secret after all.
"Home, oh and I have to visit my sister- I promised I would," he answered, moving over to her side of the bed.
"You should stay for breakfast, I'll make omelette..."
"Nah, I'm good. You've done a lot anyway," he interrupted, then kissed her hair.
"I don't know what we're doing but I like it-" he lifted her chin and pressed his lips on hers, Abby didn't hesitate.
"I'll see around, yes?"
She said nothing but he already read her mind.
Miss Abby wanted it too.
***
The ride to where his aunt lived took about ten minutes and three seconds to get there. He sat in the subway train scrolling through his phone searching for open scholarships.
That was the main reason he was working so much, he wanted to get a scholarship so badly although he didn't have enough money. Maybe getting a scholarship would change his and his dad's life.
"Hi," someone said and he looked up to see a pretty boy, if pretty was the right word.
"Hey," he responded, looking back at his phone.
"Can I get your number..."
The train came to a halt and he stood to leave.
"Maybe next time," he murmured and walked out trying not to think too much about what just happened.
***
Aunt Maryjane was a happy go lucky lady, always cheerful even when she lost her husband and five year old daughter to a car accident.
"My favourite nephew," she squealed, wrapping her arms around Cephan. He hugged her back feeling the warmth he hadn't felt in years.
"How're you doing aunty?" He asked as she led him inside.
"Jolly as always, your sister Rose went to see a friend, she loves it here."
Of course she would.
Cephan couldn't allow her to stay even a day with his father, especially after the night he almost lost her.
He didn't want to remember that rainy night so he shrugged it off and focused on the present.
His Rose was a cheerful girl and just needed the right environment. Aunt Maryjane came to the rescue, she needed a daughter after all.
"She's turning ten today, yes?"
"And Seven years for mother's funeral," he added and regretted it.
Why did he always sullen the happy mood?
Aunt Maryjane smacked his arm hard making him grimace.
"What was that for?"
"For trying to ruin the happy mood. You should be happy for your sister!"
She was right, he needed to be happy for her and not try to ruin it.
Just then, ten year old Rose ran in and on seeing her brother, she increased her pace.
"Ceph!"
Cephan grabbed her and twirled her round.
"You look just like a princess!" She laughed as he brought her down.
"You need to see, aunty made a beautiful cake just for me!" She chatted, her dimples deepening.
This was his life when his mother still lived, and even when she found out about her cancer, she still tried to be the best mom.
His father wasn't always that harsh, he was the most gentle soul Cephan Miller ever knew and maybe that was why he wished he could change.
He wished that when he had smashed a glass on his little sister's head.
He wished that when he came back home and blamed him for mother's death - and he still wished that his father would see reason and change.
The alcohol consumed him and if he pushed on a little bit more, he might return to his old loving self.
"Go on and get ready for shopping, I'd like to speak with Cephan," Aunt Maryjane said, bringing him back to reality.
Rose nodded, running off upstairs. When she was out of sight, Aunt Maryjane turned to face him.
"How's Charles? Still drinking?"
Cephan nodded, already overwhelmed with emotions.
"You know you could stay with me, I need an extra..."
"You've already done so much, aunty, I'm old enough to handle everything," he said firmly.
Aunt Maryjane watched him, although he said he could handle it, she knew he was lying. Nineteen was still teenage years.
"Call me if you change your mind," she muttered, assuring him that everything would be fine.
Cephan stood to his feet, he brought out a small gift box he had bought on his way.
"Tell Rose I have to work overnight, and I'm sorry I couldn't stay for her birthday." He handed her the box and turned to leave.
"Where are you going?"
"You know, to pour out my sorrow to the dead."
***
The rain that was only a drizzle started to pour once he reached his mother's grave. The flower in his hands was already wet, but he dropped it anyway.
"You liked roses a lot, so I brought you some..."
He squatted, his fingers feeling the hardness of the stone and the words written on them.
"Rose is happier with Aunty, I told you she was staying there for sometime until I get a stable job and a house..."
Cephan clenched his jaw as the rain dropped to his eyes causing the tears he tried to hold in to flow.
"Father's fine too, I shouldn't worry you about how he's changed- you wouldn't like that..."
He hiccuped, tears pouring down mixing with the rain.
"I'm sorry I couldn't handle all this. It's my fault everything's like this and even now, I'm crying like a child... you said I was strong but sometimes... I want to end it."
Cephan wiped his tears, his throat itched from crying and his hands shivered due to the cold.
"But Rose needs me and father... I'm sure he needs me too. I'm good at basketball now too, like very good at it and I find myself intrigued by my highschool teacher too, is that a good thing or a bad thing?" He laughed lightly standing to his feet.
"Anyhow life goes, I'm sure I'll end up making you happy, wherever you are."
Cephan turned to go, he glanced over at the grave once more, then walked away.
He needed to be strong for Rose and himself.
"I should head home," he muttered to himself.
***
As soon as Cephan stepped into the house, he had a loud bang on the floor. His father had smashed another glass on the floor.
"I should clean this up tomorrow," he gave a mental note walking past Mr Charles Miller.
"How could you leave me," he mourned, taking a huge gulp of alcohol.
Cephan stopped and watched his father looking for a sign of redemption. He was always like that every year on this day.
"Cephan..." he muttered, bringing Cephan back to reality.
Did his father call his name?
"Yes," he answered.
"Your mother was good, and it's not your fault she died, let's just say life has a way of taking the things you cherish the most," he said, taking another gulp.
"I know that."
He wished he believed it too.
"You don't. You kept Rose away from me because I'm a heartless father anyway. Y'all will end up leaving me to die," he said.
Cephan bit his lips so hard that it drew blood. He needed to go upstairs and catch some real sleep before his father returned to his normal self - drunk and angry.
"Let's hope we won't come to that," he muttered and disappeared up the stairs and into his room.
His mind wandered to last night, he felt at peace at that woman's place. Miss Abby was kind and gentle, he didn't want to ruin her reputation by doing all those things with her, but he couldn't help it.
Desire was like a small fire, but once ignited could spread and destroy a whole nation.
That was the kind of desire he had.
"Miss Abby Sean," he muttered, shutting his eyes.
He knew he should avoid her, it was dangerous - the sexual relationship they had together.
Cephan also knew he wasn't going to keep his word.
Sex was one thing, but desire was a whole different thing.
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7.0
Sophia Hayes has perfected the art of control. In the high-pressure world of The Metropolitan, she's the youngest senior journalist ever hired-an achievement built on ruthless discipline, flawless execution, and a reputation that makes even seasoned reporters double-check their facts before speaking to her. She is sharp. Unshakeable. Precise to the bone. Her life runs on deadlines, color-coded calendars, and emotional walls tall enough to withstand anything.
Dean Mercer is everything she isn't-and everything she doesn't have time for. A wildly successful illustrator whose comic series Love Is a Mess has a cult following online, Dean lives in a world where structure is optional and inspiration is everything. His apartment is chaos. His sleep schedule is chaos. His heart is chaos. He creates brilliance in messy strokes but hides his deepest truths behind humor, charm, and a smile that masks more wounds than he lets on.
So when the magazine pairs them for a high-stakes project-a revolutionary feature blending investigative journalism with illustrated storytelling-everyone expects disaster. Sophia expects worse.
Their assignment: explore modern love through real stories across the city. Raw, unfiltered, unpredictable love.
Exactly the kind of assignment that makes Sophia want to run.
Dean arrives late to their first meeting with coffee stains and excuses. Sophia arrives with a binder thick enough to double as a weapon. Dean studies her timeline like it's written in a foreign language. Sophia studies Dean like he's a problem she needs to solve before he derails everything she's built.
Their partnership begins in sparks-sharp, heated, dangerous sparks.
Arguments disguised as discussions.
Discussions disguised as power struggles.
Power struggles disguised as creative differences.
But tension has a habit of twisting into something else when the nights grow long.
As they dive into the city-interviewing strangers whose love stories survived decades, storms, heartbreaks, second chances-something shifts between them. Slowly. Quietly. Against both of their wills.
Sophia begins to see past Dean's easy humor to the man underneath-the one who fears failing the people he cares about, who draws comics because it's the only way he knows how to tell the truth. And Dean sees the cracks in Sophia's armor-the vulnerability she protects like a secret, the softness she doesn't show, the fire in her that the world misunderstands as coldness.
Their conversations deepen. Their arguments soften. Their laughter blends.
And the chemistry-the kind they both pretend not to notice-tightens around them like an invisible thread.
But the closer they get, the heavier the air becomes. Because both of them are hiding something.
Sophia hides her fear of losing control.
Dean hides his fear of being the reason someone gets hurt.
And the feature they're creating-meant to uncover the truth about modern love-begins exposing truths they never meant to reveal. About each other. About themselves.
Their late-night work sessions grow intimate, electric. Their stories blur with the stories they're collecting. Dean sketches Sophia without meaning to-capturing expressions she never lets the world see. Sophia writes notes about him she can't bring herself to delete. Something real starts forming in the space between them, fragile but undeniable.
Until the past they both buried finds them.
A mistake from Dean's life-one he thought he'd left behind-reaches the editorial floor at the worst possible time. A detail with enough weight to derail the feature, shatter their progress, and wound the one person who finally saw him clearly.
Sophia's instinct is survival. Run before she gets hurt. Seal her heart before it cracks open. Dean's instinct is retreat. Protect her from the version of himself he fears is still true.
Deadlines tighten. Trust fractures.
Their work stalls, their communication splinters, and the connection they've been dancing around threatens to snap under the strain.
But desire doesn't listen to logic.
And hearts don't obey deadlines.
Even as they pull away, they keep orbiting each other-drawn back together by an ache neither can extinguish. Their arguments deepen into something rawer, heavier. Their silence holds more meaning than their words.
They must choose:
fight for the story that could define their careers...
or fight for the connection that could rewrite their futures.
And when an unexpected message, a truth revealed too late, and one irreversible decision collide, they're forced to confront the question their feature was meant to answer:
What does love look like today-
and can two people living at opposite rhythms find it before it slips through their fingers?
On the edge of losing their partnership...
their second chance...
and each other...
8.4
I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen.
But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg.
She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini.
"I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog."
Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull.
Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage.
She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic.
"He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!"
When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever.
My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust.
I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle.
I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes.
This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.
9.0
I was a top patent lawyer until my husband and his lover framed me, destroyed my career, and sent me to prison. For seven years after, I was presumed dead, living as a ghost in a warehouse.
Then, they found me. My ex-husband, Edgar, and our son, Kody, showed up, shocked to see me alive.
They lured me to Kody' s 18th birthday party, but it was a lie. The party was a surprise engagement celebration for Edgar and Celena, the very woman who ruined my life.
In front of everyone, Edgar told me to "let go."
My own son even begged me.
"Mom, please," he cried. "Just say you're sorry."
Sorry? For what? For surviving the car crash they orchestrated to kill me?
I looked at the boy I once loved more than life itself. In the sudden silence of the ballroom, I smiled and asked, "Kody, do you remember the night Celena asked you to slash my tires?"
7.8
My parents spent eighteen years grooming me for one singular purpose: to be the mate of Jax Little, the future Alpha.
We grew up together, promising a hundred times that we would rule the Silver Moon Pack side by side.
But on the night of the Recognition Ritual, because my inner wolf was silent and I hadn't shifted yet, everything shattered.
Jax stood before the entire pack, looked at Catalina—a stranger in red silk—and then looked at me with cold, steel-gray eyes.
"I, Jax Little, reject you, Eliana Carter."
He didn't just break our bond; he let his new Luna destroy me.
When Catalina shoved me into a pool, he saved her instead of me.
When she framed me for an attack, causing me to fall onto deadly silver that seared my flesh like acid, he stepped over my convulsing body to comfort her fake tears.
He left me dying on the floor to soothe the woman who had tried to kill me.
I realized then that the boy who promised to protect me was dead. He prioritized ambition over love, treating me like a broken defect to be discarded.
I survived the silver, but I killed the girl who loved him.
I packed my bags and ran to New York City, believing I was wolfless and alone.
I didn't know that I wasn't a defect—I was a rare White Wolf waiting to wake up.
And I certainly didn't expect the most powerful Alpha on the East Coast to be waiting in the shadows, ready to burn the world down for me.
9.7
She came to kill him.
He made her his queen.
Valeria Romano spent five years with one purpose ... destroy Lorenzo De Luca, the mafia king who murdered her father. She trained in silence, sacrificed everything, and finally had him in her crosshairs on a cold Sicilian night.
Then he showed her the truth.
Her father's killer was never Lorenzo.
It was the man who held her at the funeral. The man she called every week for five years. The man who handed her the wrong name and watched her walk toward the wrong target while he rebuilt his empire on her father's grave.
Her uncle Marco.
Now Valeria is bound to the enemy she came to destroy ... in a contract marriage she didn't choose, inside a world she doesn't yet understand, hunting a man who has been ten steps ahead of everyone for twenty years.
But Marco has never faced a woman who has nothing left to lose.
As the truth unravels and the bodies pile up and the line between hatred and something far more dangerous begins to blur ... Valeria must decide who she is willing to become to protect the people she loves.
Because in Lorenzo De Luca's world, power is everything.
And she is about to become the most powerful thing in it.
Some wars are fought with guns. The deadliest ones are fought from the inside.
9.1
The best way to get back at a cheating bastard? Make him sick to his stomach for the rest of his life!
Days before her wedding, Corinne caught her fiancé cheating with his coworker in what she thought was their future home.
Furious, she tore everything apart, ended the engagement, and decided on a bold revenge plan.
To make him regret it for life, she set her sights on marrying his powerful uncle. Confident in her scheme, she tried to win over the cold, untouchable man, only to realize too late that she had mistaken his identity.
The man she married was far more dangerous than she imagined!
Corinne decided to make a quick escape. "Let's get a divorce. We're clearly not right for each other... "
He cornered her with a knowing smile, "Not right for each other? Funny, that's not what you said last night in bed. Want me to remind you how wrong you are?"