Showing results by author "Whitney G." in All Categories

La carrera de Claire Gracen como directora de marketing no podía ser más meteórica, y, además, estaba felizmente casada con el hombre del que había estado enamorada desde la adolescencia; su vida era perfecta. Un día se dio cuenta de que todo era mentira, una mentira en la que su mejor amiga y su marido la habían engañado de la peor forma posible. Claire se obliga a hacer un cambio de aires. Es entonces cuando capta el interés del hombre más sexy que haya conocido nunca, Jonathan Statham. Es dominante, y no está dispuesto a aceptar un no por respuesta.

I can’t believe that I pulled my boss’ name for our company’s annual Secret Santa tradition.... As the devil incarnate, this infuriating, cocky bastard never gives us the holidays off, and he honestly expects us to be grateful for his generous alternative: The Office Party. It’s a mandatory, all-expenses paid trip for two weeks at a surprise luxury resort - where we still have to work 12 to 15 hours a day.

El hombre del que me he enamorado es un mentiroso. No tengo mucho tiempo para revelar todos los detalles, pero esos titulares de «Una mujer desaparece después de su boda» no son más que mentiras. No he desaparecido. No he huido después de mi boda. Nunca habría huido después de mi increíble luna de miel. Mi marido me ha raptado. No, me ha secuestrado. Debo aceptar que ya no es el hombre del que me enamoré. Es el rey de las mentiras.

Being a doctor in New York City has never been easy. Especially for someone like me, who has a private practice and an incompetent staff who insists on leaving me to fill in for them. When my team finally came to their senses and decided to bring someone more competent into the practice last month, I was actually elated. Until I realized that our new "doctor" was none other than the woman I was supposed to meet for dinner two weeks ago. The same woman who stood me up...

Arizona Turner y Carter James son amigos inseparables desde los nueve años. Se lo han contado siempre todo el uno al otro y se han apoyado en todas sus «primeras veces». Y, por supuesto, han sido mutuo paño de lágrimas cuando las relaciones que han mantenido con otras personas fracasaron. Pero a lo largo de los años, a pesar de todo lo que han pensado los demás sobre ellos y su amistad, jamás han traspasado la línea. Nunca se les ha ocurrido. Nunca han querido...Hasta que una noche todo cambió. Así que quizá ahora…

Estas deben de ser las peores Navidades de mi vida... Mi exnovio acaba de reservar la mejor suite en el resort donde trabajo (con su nueva novia, no conmigo), la mitad del personal se ha dado de baja por gripe (mentira: quieren asistir a un concierto que se celebra en el pueblo) y mi hermana me está volviendo loca con sus inacabables planes de boda. En cualquier otro momento todo esto no supondría ningún problema, pero la Navidad lo cambia todo, y además mi familia está a punto de descubrir la mentirijilla que les he contado sobre mi inexistente prometido.

Dear Hayley, I'm assuming you're still hungover, so I'll make this brief. Last night, you slipped under my sheets (without my permission), and we almost had sex. I got the hell out of the bed once I realized it was you, and I took you home. That's the story. The end. Period. Just in case you've forgotten, you're my best friend's little sister. We will never be anything more. (We can't be anything more.) Our previous friendship is still unresolved - or "over", in your terms, so I'd prefer if we worked on becoming just friends again since you're in town.

My cock has an appetite. A huge and very particular appetite: blond, curvy, and preferably not a f--king liar... (Although that's a story for another day.) As a high-profile lawyer, I don't have time to waste on relationships, so I fulfill my needs by anonymously chatting and sleeping with women I meet online. My rules are simple: one dinner. One night. No repeats. This is only casual sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. At least it was until Alyssa...

The man I fell in love with is a f--king liar. I don't have much time to reveal all the details, but I will say this: The "Woman disappears after wedding" and "Woman flees after honeymoon" headlines are lying. I'm not missing. I didn't run away after my wedding. I would've never run away right after our amazing honeymoon.

Have I already told you that I hate my boss today? Sexy as hell or not, this pompous, arrogant, ASSHOLE asked me to pick up his dry cleaning the second I walked through the door. Then he told me that I needed to take his Jaguar to a car wash that was ten miles outside of the city, but only after I needed to stand in a never-ending line to buy some type of limited, hundred-dollar watch. I honestly can't wait to see the look on his face two months from now when I tell him that I'm quitting his company and that he can kiss my ass.

The first night I met Gillian Taylor, she claimed she was a pilot. Then she claimed she worked for a "private airline." I knew right then and there that she was lying to me, and that sexy as hell or not, she was the type of woman I needed to avoid. Still, after a pleasurable one-night stand, I was certain we'd never see each other again. Until I saw her in an airport a few weeks later.... Until I realized that we were both assigned to work the same flight. She was the flight attendant. I was the pilot.

My resignation letter was rejected by my boss with his sexy, trademark smirk and an "I highly suggest you read the fine print of your contract...." So, I did. And now I've realized that unless I fake my death, poison him, or find a way to renegotiate my impossible contract, I'm stuck working under one of the cockiest and most ruthless bosses in New York. Then again, I thought that was the case until he called me late last night with an emergency proposition....

Please leave your message at the sound of the beep.... Penelope, I know that it’s three o’clock in the morning, but I need to get this off my chest. I can’t give you any more advice on landing this other guy, can’t tell you another “sexy” thing that you should do, or suggest a new set of filthy words that you should text him late at night. As your best friend, I’ve reached my limit, and I can honestly say that he doesn’t deserve you. I’m not saying all of this because I’m f--king jealous, or because he had the audacity to say that he makes more money than me.

Well, I was failing to write a sex scene. As an author of more than 50 smut books, I was struggling to do what I did best. So, for fun, I asked one of my best online friends for some help.

Para Claire, Jonathan es el prometido perfecto, ¿pero será un marido perfecto? Para Jonathan, algunas conductas de Claire en la recta final hacia su enlace hacen que se llene de preguntas: ¿Claire está poniendo a prueba su amor… o en realidad es ella quien debería estar bajo esa sospecha? Las dudas empiezan a poblar cada vez más el sendero hacia el altar de Claire y Jonathan, y los problemas parecen crecer a cada día que pasa.

I've hated Rachel Dawson since I was seven years old. My next-door neighbor and number-one sworn enemy - she's the reason why almost all of our childhood fights ended with me setting something of hers on fire. (Or, vice versa.) She snitched on me when I broke curfew. I snitched on her when she lied about having a boyfriend. We went back and forth like this throughout high school, both vowing to never talk to each other again when we went off to college. But that was until she showed up at my apartment during my senior year and asked me for a temporary place to stay.

Claire Gracen finally has the life she's always wanted: a career she loves, a man who's willing to do any and everything for her, and friends that show her the true meaning of the word friendship. As she and Jonathan prepare to make the ultimate commitment to one another and plan the wedding of her dreams, she quickly realizes that the hurtful past she left behind in Pittsburgh is a lot closer than she thought.

Charlotte Taylor has three automatic strikes in my book: 1) She hates me. She also claims that I'm a "domineering jerk with a huge, overbearing ego". (I do have something huge. It's not my ego, though.) 2) She takes our mandatory tutoring sessions way too seriously. 3) She's sexy as hell...and a virgin. At least those were her strikes before our study sessions started lasting longer than they were supposed to. Until one innocent kiss became a hundred dirty ones, and until she became the first woman I ever fell hard for.

Sirvan estas líneas para anunciar formalmente mi renuncia en Parker International (y a su arrogante y condescendiente director), efectiva a partir de hoy en dos semanas. Ha sido una decisión MUY FÁCIL de tomar, dado que los dos últimos años han sido un horror total. Espero que su nueva asistente ejecutiva tenga toda la suerte del mundo (la necesitará), y si mi jefe me necesita para cualquier cosa en estas dos semanas, que alguien le diga que puede apañárselas solo. Este es el aviso de dimisión que debí haber mandado con dos semanas de antelación a mi jefe.

Kyle Stanton is the cockiest playboy who has ever set foot on this university’s campus. He’s also the last person on earth that I want to interview for my senior thesis. If I hear him utter the phrase “No need to stare, I’ll let you ride it up close and personal, just say the word” one more time, I will scream. At least, those are my initial impressions until he proposes “a perfect deal” that works in our best interest. Until one filthy kiss changes everything, and he shows me a side of himself that makes me fall in love.