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 5
The men's locker room smelled like sweat, disinfectant and athlete deodorant. Lockers were being slammed as people talked rather too loudly.
Practice was over, and Cephan stood at his locker taking a gulp of water from his bottle. He needed to see Miss Abby before he headed home.
Lost in his thoughts, Cephan didn't notice how quiet the locker room became. He didn't take notice of the footsteps that approached him until someone called his name.
"Hey, Miller!"
Cephan turned sharply to see Dav and his other guys. He rolled his eyes wondering what they wanted or maybe they wanted to pay him back for what he had done to them a week ago.
"Hey, Dav. You have a pretty interesting thing going on on your face. Don't tell me that's a new fashion thing you picked up," he mocked, banging his locker shut.
"I gotta go anyway."
As Cephan made to jog past them, Chuck pulled him back pushing him towards the locker. The back of his head throbbed as he forcefully hit it on the metal locker.
"Shit, that hurts man," he winced, massaging the back of his head.
He sighed and looked straight into Dav's eyes.
"Come at me and I'll make sure to break each of your legs and arms so you wouldn't have to come for practice," Cephan threatened, his eyes firing bullets at Dav and his men.
Cephan marched off, his shoulders scraping hard against Mason's. It was already late and Miss Abby probably left while those bastards tried to have him in the locker room, so he quickened his step taking long strides to her office.
"God let her be around," he muttered a prayer impulsively, turning the knob and pushing it open.
Immediately he barged into the office, their eyes met, he stared at her lips for what seemed like a minute before deciding to come in.
"I'm sorry for coming in without knocking, Miss Abby," he said suddenly feeling guilty for disrespecting his teacher.
Abby smiled a little and dipped her head telling him to come in and lock the door behind him.
"It's fine, Cephan, why are you here? I didn't know you missed me that much," she teased pushing her laptop aside.
Cephan rolled his eyes, closing the distance between them. She stood, unwilling to crane her neck for him.
It wasn't her fault, Cephan was a basketball player and their heights were something else.
"I thought you already left but I'm glad you're here," he breathed, slipping his hand around her slender waist.
Abby blinded by fascination, stared at his face, his eyes were like gray storm and his lips... fuck... she couldn't describe how they made her feel. Her heartbeat quickened and her body tensed at the mere thought of him touching her.
"I want you to tutor me," he said, bringing her back from her unholy thoughts.
Abby raised an eyebrow and moved away from him back to her seat.
"That's not bad, but why? You're basically a B student that's why you're still in sports," she questioned, her eyes sweeping his body.
Fuck me!
She cursed wondering when she became this used to having him around, when she craved his body so much.
Abby had tossed and turned throughout the night because he wasn't there with her. It hadn't been long since they knew each other intimately but her stupid body greedily wanted more of him.
"I just wanted to get a better grade considering this is my last exam here," he replied, tearing his eyes away from her and staring at the laptop on the desk.
Cephan knew he only wanted to spend more time with her because no one knew what would happen after graduation. They probably wouldn't even see each other again.
"So what do I get in return?" She asked so suddenly that it surprised Cephan.
"What?"
"You know, many tutors request money. I'm asking what I get in return," she repeated, a wide smirk spreading across her lips.
Cephan Miller scoffed, took her by the hand and pulled her towards him so that her breast hit his chest.
"I'll tell you this weekend, yes?"
She said nothing so he smashed his lips on hers taking her to the table. She didn't fight him off.
She loved it.
"Let's meet at your place this weekend and I'll tell you exactly what you get-" Cephan sucked hard at her lower lip, a moan leaving her mouth.
"Miss Abby Sean," he added, kissing her hair.
Abby smiled in response. She couldn't wait for the weekend and she wished it would come fast.
***
The weekend finally came although it seemed like three years passed before it came.
Abby called her cleaners to do a thorough cleaning not only because it was that time of the month, but she was also expecting someone.
"I'm just a tutor," she sighed knowing full well she was deceiving herself.
After ten pacing around, five unholy thoughts, and what seemed like forever, a knock finally came. Abby rushed to the door and opened it without checking who it was.
"You ordered pizza," the man at the door said. She didn't know why she felt disappointed, but that was what age felt.
"Thank you, I'll take that."
Abby looked up at the familiar voice and her lips spread into a wide smile.
"You're here!" She half squealed, thanking the delivery guy and ushering her man... Cephan in.
Shutting the door, she folded her arms and looked at him pretending to be annoyed.
"It's way past noon, Mr Miller!"
Cephan laughed, wrapping his arms around her. "You're cute when you're angry, did anyone tell you that?" He asked, changing the subject. He didn't want to ruin the mood by telling her how his father had been beaten up by some of his fellow gamblers.
"Don't change the subject!" She reprimanded, but let him kiss her cheeks, bite her ear and slide his tongue into her mouth.
"Should we study then? I have all my materials ready!"
***
Lessons went well or so they tried to deceive themselves.
"If you get this right then we can rest now," she said, taking a slice of pizza from the box that sat on the table.
Cephan grinned, working his hands off on the paper before him.
"I'm sure I got it now," he said after a few minutes of brain racking.
Abby looked at the answer and groaned, she knew he was failing on purpose.
"So do we have to rest now?" He asked, taking her chin and planting a kiss on her already wet lips.
"Maybe we should take a break and I'll tell you what you get in return," he whispered huskily.
All those kissing and maths were making him hard. His heart rate increased by just looking at the line between her breasts, and when she hit his head for purposely failing, he almost lost it.
"You're right, a little rest won't be that bad," she agreed, shutting the book in front of her.
Cephan pulled her up and sat her on the table, he tugged at her shirt, his hands sliding into the shirt, he popped open her bra.
"Shall we begin?"
**
"Must you leave, it's already late?" Abby murmured standing at the door with him. She didn't want him to leave, but it looked like the best thing to do because at that point her legs were weak.
"Yes, my dad's not really feeling okay, he got in an accident," he lied.
No one would want to stay at Abby's more than Cephan. He desired her and wanted every bit of her, but his father was waiting - Mr Miller needed some drugs and someone had to change his bandage.
"I'll come later tomorrow, but it's not a promise, sweetheart... Miss Abby," he corrected himself, feeling embarrassed.
Abby laughed, softly patting his cheeks.
"It's Abby to you. Drop the Miss when we're together, okay?"
He nodded, pulling her in for a last hug. He kissed her nose making her turn bright pink.
"I'll see you around, Abby."
Once Abby shut the door, he leaned against it heaving wearily. He didn't really have much money to spare but father needed the drugs the doctor had recommended.
"Fuck this," he cursed slapping his temple.
Just then something ran in the shadows catching his attention.
He sighed, paying no heed to it. It was probably one of those neighborhood kids who loved to get in trouble.
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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?"