She's one hot mess. With One hot boss. One too many hot encounters... Too hot? A company policy that states in her contract: no fraternizing with working colleagues. A passion so unresistable. Leslie Ruffle; This year has been real harsh, it seems like am kinda jinxed or something. I know you might I'm just making things up but seriously, it's true. It's like am never lucky with anything, when it comes to relationships or even jobs. Am like a Walking talking ticking hot mess! Like a bomb! Not only does my name literally mean "unfortunate," but that's the story of my life. Everything I touch suddenly turns to crap. I know I sound depressed but hey am not! I moved out of the studio I shared with my ex for cheating which means I'm back living at home with my teenage like parents, and with me back to be their grown up governess. Weird right? Yeah I know! Which is why I need the new job as the personal assistant to Damien Cameron Romano to get back on my feet. Three months in this job and I can move back out and, hopefully start afresh. So my Job is quite simple on paper, it's supposed to be easy. Make coffee. Book appointments. Keep everything in order. I might even get to travel with him, how cool is that? Am like his secretary, pretty sure it's a simple task. Until I walk in on my boss, half-naked, wearing nothing but dangerous smiles and a sexy hot desire plusing between the two of us. A desire and attraction that is iriristable. Now, nothing is easy-except this sudden scorching burn of mutual attraction. But he's my damn boss! I can't just let my pussy do the thinking, or can I ? you know what they say about mixing work and pleasure: It never ends well. Except am willing to risk losing my job? it's just not worth it. Or is it? She's one hot mess. With One hot boss. One too many hot encounters... Too hot? A company policy that states in her contract: no fraternizing with working colleagues. A passion so unresistable. Leslie Ruffle; This year has been real harsh, it seems like am kinda jinxed or something. I know you might I'm just making things up but seriously, it's true. It's like am never lucky with anything, when it comes to relationships or even jobs. Am like a Walking talking ticking hot mess! Like a bomb! Not only does my name literally mean "unfortunate," but that's the story of my life. Everything I touch suddenly turns to crap. I know I sound depressed but hey am not! I moved out of the studio I shared with my ex for cheating which means I'm back living at home with my teenage like parents, and with me back to be their grown up governess. Weird right? Yeah I know! Which is why I need the new job as the personal assistant to Damien Cameron Romano to get back on my feet. Three months in this job and I can move back out and, hopefully start afresh. So my Job is quite simple on paper, it's supposed to be easy. Make coffee. Book appointments. Keep everything in order. I might even get to travel with him, how cool is that? Am like his secretary, pretty sure it's a simple task. Until I walk in on my boss, half-naked, wearing nothing but dangerous smiles and a sexy hot desire plusing between the two of us. A desire and attraction that is iriristable. Now, nothing is easy-except this sudden scorching burn of mutual attraction. But he's my damn boss! I can't just let my pussy do the thinking, or can I ? you know what they say about mixing work and pleasure: It never ends well. Except am willing to risk losing my job? it's just not worth it. Or is it?
Author's Note- Watch out for typos it's still unedited....
Leslie's P.O.V.
My name is Leslie Ruffle , am like a walking time bomb of course there are a lot of other things I could say to describe myself. I can eat an abnormal number of tacos, pizza and any other junk food in one sitting you name it?
Am just a regular old food lover!
I have what you call too much curves, my boobs are quite huge like the size of a ball. Well not that large large so hey don't start imagining what it looks like"But have just got that hourglass figure . My tolerance for alcohol is world-record worthy, drinking is my thing but drinking with heels on for me is like a death sentence.
"So no heels for momma".
Even three inches is pushing it.
"I call them death traps".
I much prefer no heels, just flats,
Infact, I prefer not to wear shoes at all, I like being comfortable in my own skin If I were to even put on shoes,it's means am either going out or leaving the house.
If I were leaving the house equally socializing."thinking of it makes me cringe, am more of what you an introvert instead of going out to fancy parties I prefer my couch at home with my Kindle and bowl of ice cream, call it lame but that's Leslie Ruffle to you.
So people who think going to expensive and luxurious fancy-schmancy parties, loud-ass bars and clubs means living life to the fullest are quiet dumb to me and can suck it all up for all I care.
All I want right now is my real cute and soft bunny slippers and my pajama shorts with penguins on it."yeah , yeah you can find this funny but am just that kind of girl.
I'm like an Nintey-year-old lady and don't really give a shit about what anyone thinks about me or my weird habits.
I'm presently living with my parents, and my relationship with my mom and dad is kinda werid it's like the whole situation is reversed am their mom and their my kids. I had to grow up real fast and be the adult , the one with the matured mind . It's always been like that , they behave like hormonal young teenager and I keep telling them that time isn't on their side anymore.
With the kind of parents I have one can go nuts , with their crazy antics and all , and am always the one who cleans up when they do mess up, so when I had the chance of escape I ran for it.
So the question is why was I back at home?
Well, that's another funny story.
See, my apartment building had a fire, yeah right not just any fire the kind that burns you from the inside. I moved in with my boyfriend I knew then it was a bit too hasty but I didn't care about my recklessness now it's back and hit me like a bitch real hard. Caught my boyfriend cheating on me he didn't even have the decency to get a new pack of condoms when he was on top that bitch" told ya my life was a mess.
Maybe not just a mess but a hot mess.
Regardless, I moved out ASAP and since I lost my job as a result of the company going bankrupt told you am jinxed anyway I just had to move back in with my parents, it was a hard decision but I guess it was the only option I had at all.
So far it hasn't been so bad I guess ? I mean not really. They do charged me minimal rent so I could save as much as possible to get back on my feet because I'd also been let go from my job, and I didn't have the restrictions teenage-me had, so it's all good .
So let me let you in on the kind of parents I do have" images of my parents doing things no child should ever witness burned into my retinas.
I ain't talking about walking around them in underwear or anything like that. It's actually a worse than that . I'm talking about sex toys , like a didlo or a vibrator on the coffee table, a suspender belt over the back of a dining chair, and actual sex on the sofa.
I wished that were the whole story, but that's just like, ninety percent of that iceberg under the surface, full of memories that I didn't want to pull back up.
Anyway I made note to always text them before I get home to save myself from seeing what I can't unsee .
I'm presently walking in the direction of Starbucks making a detour instead of my house to give them a little time to get themselves together."meaning my parents.
I'd just left the only interview I hadn't managed to screw up in the last Three weeks, but I still wasn't feeling too hot about my chances.
Probably because I had a pair of underwear in the leg of my pants that I'd discreetly managed to tuck into my sock mid-interview under the guise of an itchy ankle."let me tell you another thing about me am not a fan of underwear I can for sure pull off wearing a guys briefs or boxers it feels more comfortable that the stretchy tight fabric called panties.
Let's say am not exactly the most organized person in the world. It wasn't a great situation to be in actually when applying to be a personal assistant, but I figured I could do it.
I haven't even met the guy the owner of the company I know nothing about him except for the fact his name is Damien Boyce, and he runs his family's company "The Boyce oil and shipping Empire".
His current full-time personal assistant had decided not to come back from maternity leave, and he decided a replacement secretary needs to be employed so she'd been called in to do interviews.
Meeting Sage Malvern probably should have been my first clue that, no matter how well the interview went, I probably wasn't fit to work in a huge Greek Shipping company. Seeing the ex- secretary actually wonded my confident She was tall, slim, and didn't have a hair out of place. The perfect fit but me...
I'm relatively tall, packed a few extra pounds on my ass with curves that draw unnecessary attention I can't even wear a tight skirt without feeling out of place.
It reminded of the movie fifty shades of grey when Arghhh what's her name again was it Anna , when she went up to see Mr grey and noticed all the blondes in the building and suddenly felt odd because of their perfected looks.
But me, in this case.
With my half-uncurled hair and a pair of panties with peguins on them , sue me but I love those creatures still tucked into my sock, even as I placed my order at the counter in Starbucks.
It really wasn't any wonder that I was single, as of now maybe relationship isn't the best idea for me..
I take my coffee from the counter and scanned the room for an empty table. There wasn't one, which killed my chances of wasting more time before I went home. Please let me be done with whatever orgy they are doing at home.
With a sigh, I checked my phone for the time and headed for the door. I was going to end up at home earlier than I'd planned, and I needed to check with my mom to make sure there wasn't anything kinky happening somewhere in the house.
I've actually considered bleaching my eyes enough for the last few weeks.
Don't know if today will be a safe zone for me , although my aunt said something about coming home today . Anyway I don't blame my self for being as weird as I am because my parents are the weirdest.
Really, it was no wonder I was a walking disaster.
Like seriously!
"They're super weird and this words coming from their daughter is enough!".
I pulled up my messages and clicked on my mom's name. My thumb already posied to type the burning question of whether or not it was safe to come home when I glanced up.
And saw a car screeching to a stop, mere inches from me.
I panicked and screamed and stepped back. My heel got caught on the curb, sending me toppling backward, and both my coffee and phone went flying. My cup slammed against the sidewalk, splattering hot liquid everywhere right as I managed to save my phone from certain death by hitting the concrete.
My heart was beating so fast it should have exploded, and adrenaline raced through my veins. I gripped my phone against me so tightly that the edges pressed painfully into my skin painfully into my skin.
Oh my God.
I think I just saw the grim reaper waving at me!
I'd just almost died.
I actually felt my life flash before me!
Maybe slightly dramatic, but I probably wasn't far wrong. I didn't even know I'd stepped into the road.
When had that happened? Had I really been in that deep into my own little world that I hadn't even check for traffic?" Typical Leslie . Like I said am a walking mess.
Dear lord.
Save me!
How was I still alive?
The back door to the sleek, black car that somehow hadn't run me over swung open. From my
position on the sidewalk, the first thing I saw was a pair of shiny, black expensive Italian shoes attached to legs wearing perfectly-pressed, light gray dress pants.
I dragged my gaze up from the feet, over the door of the perfectly clean car, and stared at the most handsome man known to humankind."pinch me , am I dead . I think am really dead and have woken up in heaven .
"Bloody Hell"
Gosh he's so handsome!!
Thick, dark, wavy hair covered his head, curling over his ears. Lashes the same dark shade of brown framed impossibly bright-blue eyes that regarded me with a mixture of shock and concern, and my ovaries about exploded when he rubbed a large hand over full pink lips and a stubbled, strong jaw.
"Miss-I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"
Scrambling to my feet as he approached me, I tugged down the leg of my pants and grabbed my purse. "Handsome"I sigh out
"Hmm"He ask a bit concerned.
"I mean, yes it was my fault. I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry."I say smiling and apologizing.
He let go of the car door, showing broad shoulders and just how well that gray suit was tailored to him and picked up my coffee cup. "All the same, I think we can share the blame.
Are you sure you're not hurt?"he said in a thick deep baritone voice.
Just my dignity, and by this point"I muster, berating myself for drooling at a stranger. Realizing what I said out loud I shut my mouth instead before I keep embarrassing myself in front of this sexy Adonis.
I shifted, taking a step back. "I'm fine, really. Thank you."
"Can I replace your coffee? Give you a ride anyway to apologize?" His expression was so earnest, his concern so genuine that I almost gave in.
Almost."shameless me almost swooned and gave in.
I had almost walked into the front of his car, then proceeded to embarrass myself in front of everyone on the street.
"No, no, it's fine. I'm not far from home." I clutched my phone and purse straps a little harder. "Again, thank you, but I should be going."
He nodded as if he understood. "Uh, miss? Did you drop something there?" He said pointing at something.
My eyes followed the direction he was pointing. On the side of the road, tucked against the curb, was a pair of white, panties with peguins on them.
My white, cotton panties with peguins on them.
Oh God , let the ground just open and swallow me .
"If I do pick it, he might think am weird. A guy like this is used to girls wearing slik lingeres"I thought weighing the pros and cons of the situation.
Swallowing, I met his bright eyes and shook my head. Dear God, please don't let me blush. "No. I've never seen them before. Never ever."i said timidly.
I backed up a little more. "Thank you for not running me over."
He then grinned, his eyes brightening with his smile. "I'd never be able to forgive myself if I'd been responsible for running over someone as beautiful as you." He glanced toward the panties, then winked at me.
There was no doubting that I was blushing this time around I could feel my toe curling already.
So I did the only thing any self-respecting, woman who'd just almost been run over, tripped, and dropped her panties could do.
I ran.
But only like two blocks, because I was limping a bit, and am not much of an athlete.
I could hear him say
"Don't you want a ride"i didn't care , I just ran with my face turning beet red.
Then I rushed and grabbed a cab.
That's it welcome to my world folk , only Leslie Ruffle would be able to embarrass herself within a minute of meeting someone as dream like as that georgous stranger.
Like I said am a Hot mess.
***
Melanie married Ashton out of gratitude, but she quickly found herself entangled in a web of relentless challenges. Despite these struggles, she stayed true to her commitment to the marriage. In the hospital room, Ashton indifferently attempted to draw her blood, disregarding her discomfort. This callous act was a harsh revelation for Melanie, awakening her to the grim reality of their relationship. Resolved to prioritize her own welfare, she decided to sever ties. With newfound resolve, Melanie filed for divorce. In the process, she unveiled her concealed identities, leaving everyone in shock. Throughout these turbulent times, Melanie realized that Derek, Ashton’s uncle, had been discreetly protecting her all along.
Her fiance and her best friend worked together and set her up. She lost everything and died in the street. However, she was reborn. The moment she opened her eyes, her husband was trying to strangle her. Luckily, she survived that. She signed the divorce agreement without hesitation and was ready for her miserable life. To her surprise, her mother in this life left her a great deal of money. She turned the tables and avenged herself. Everything went well in her career and love when her ex-husband came to her.
Veronica is an eighteen-year-old omega who falls into an emotional breakdown when her Mate, who was soon to be the Alpha of the Sun crest pack, turns against her, hurls hurtful words at her, and rejects her on the night of the full moon festival because he and everyone in the pack, including her, thinks she is an omega. As if the pain of rejection, helplessness, and worthlessness wasn't enough, she lost her best and only friend to the cold hands of death when rogue wolves attacked their pack. Right in the presence of her mate, she was tagged as someone who always attracted problems and calamities anywhere she went and he turned a blind eye and watched as she was banished from the pack. With hatred for her life, she runs deep into the woods that were off-limits and jumps off to end her life, but in a turn of events, something else happens. What would her mate do when he finds out that Veronica is not who he thinks she is? Will she be able to forgive him? What fate lies ahead for them?
When Corynn mustered up the courage to tell Elliot about her pregnancy, she unexpectedly found him gallantly helping another woman from his car. Her heart sank as three years of effort to secure his love crumbled before her eyes, compelling her to leave him behind. Three years later, life had taken Corynn down a new path with someone else, while Elliot was left grappling with regret. Seizing a moment of vulnerability, he pleaded, "Corynn, let's get married." Shaking her head with a faint smile, Corynn gently replied, "Sorry, I'm already engaged."
"You're mine, little puppy," Kylan growled against my neck. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his lips brushed my skin. My mind screamed at me to push him away-the Lycan Prince who had humiliated me again and again, but my body betrayed me, leaning into him before I could stop myself. He pressed his lips against mine, and his kiss grew more aggressive, more possessive as I felt my legs weaken. What was I doing? In a split-second, I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. Kylan's eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips exposed his amusement. "You and I both know we can't fight this, Violet," he said, gripping my wrist. "You're my mate." "And yet you don't want me," I replied. "You told me you were ashamed of me, that l'd never be your queen, that you'd never love me. So please, accept my rejection and let me go." "Never," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. "Soon enough, you'll be begging for me. and when you do-I'll use you as I see fit and then I'll reject you."
After three loveless years, Neil's betrayal deeply wounded Katelyn. She wasted no time in getting rid of that scoundrel! After the divorce, she devoted herself to career pursuits. Rising to prominence as a top designer, skilled doctor, and brilliant hacker, she became a revered icon. Neil, realizing his grave mistake, tried in vain to win her back, only to witness her magnificent wedding to another. As their vows were broadcast on the world's largest billboard, Vincent slid a ring onto Katelyn's finger and declared, "Katelyn is now my wife, a priceless treasure. Let all who covet her beware!"