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It was like staring into the eyes of a predator and I was his prey. Like a proud lion stalking that naive, little gazelle. His eyes roaming every inch of me. It took me a hard minute for me to finally gather my shattered senses and quickly search for my clothes. He smirked. Great, he's enjoying my pain. "You don't have put your clothes on my account." He said, his voice made me pause. It was deep, very raspy and thick with an accent. "Are all men pigs?" I asked myself. "That depends." He replied, as if it was his question to answer. I glared at him as I threw my dress over my head. To my shock, he was walking towards me. My heart pounding, I stared up into his blue-grey eyes. His eyes never broke contract with mine as he bent down to picked up my bra. He examined it briefly before standing, towering over me. "I believe this is yours." He whispered, handing it to me. "Thanks," I said, before I yanked it out of his hand. ... Twenty-four year old, med student Alyssa Carpenter and her boyfriend, Andre, have been together since the 6th grade and for their anniversary, Lyssa is ready to lose her virginity. After telling Andre she's ready, he plans a VERY special night at a very expensive hotel in Miami. Disaster strikes when Lyssa given the key to the wrong room. Fully expecting her Andre, Lyssa is now face to face with a handsome stranger. Did I forget to mention....she's naked

Romance / Drama
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:


A/N: This story is for mature audiences. Profanity, sexual content, violent, death, drugs and BDSM. Read at your own risk and of course enjoy the story!

All Rights Reserved for Libidinous © 2021 by Tajanara Scott aka Afrodite107.
Under no circumstances must this book be copied, vandalized, stolen, changed nor translated (without permission), ask and you shall receive. I don't tolerate plagiarism; everything you see is what pops out of my big-headed brain. Thank you and enjoy it.



For once—I’d like at least one thing to go my way. Is that too much to ask? I asked myself as I gazed down upon my burnt mess of a cake. “Why does the universe hate me?” I grumbled, placing the cake on the stove with a sigh. So much for not spending the money, I don’t have. Saturday is my anniversary to my boyfriend, Andre, and my can’t bake ass decided to bake him a last-minute cake because the money I’ve been saving to buy him a new PlayStation had to be used for an emergency trip I took to Atlanta last week when my grandfather broke his hip.

”I told you not to bake for him.” Said a condescending voice, behind me. Who the hell asked you?

“Shut up,” I told her, turning to look her in the eye while I took off my oven mitts. ”Couldn’t you just lay there and not say anything!” I hissed, throwing one at her. She rolled away just in time, giggling.

“Of course not.” She said, rolling back to her original spot. This troublemaker is Lauren, Andre‘s younger sister, and my roommate. We’re the same age, 24, but I’m five months older. Her waist-length micro dreadlocks fell over her pillow and framed her round face like a blanket. Amusement sparkling in those hypnotic dark eyes. She’s beautiful and slightly on the heavy side but she’s curvy and she loves it. She laid on her mint green and white sheet-covered bed. She was still wearing her PJs; a white top, pink booty shorts, and white knee-high socks.

I turned my attention back to the stove and toss the cake in the trash before washing the pan. ”I don’t know what I’m going to get him.” I said in defeat.

“Just buy a cake.” She suggested.

“I would but if I do that I’ll have to take the bus to tomorrow.”

She gasped. “Oh right!” She exclaimed. “You’re going to Miami for his BIG surprise.” I tried to keep my smile at bay but I couldn’t. I grinned.

“I know! I can’t wait to see him.” I said. Andre just finished med school here at Stanford and has been doing his internship at Mount Sinai Medical Center in Miami, I planned to join him after I graduate.

“So do you think you guys are going to finally—tries not to gag—you know?” She asked, wiggling her brows.

I shrugged. “I don’t know—“

“Oh, if you were.....you could have used that as your anniversary present.” She suggested.

I groaned. “That’s such a cop-out,” I said, crawling into bed.

“You don’t have money to be picky, sis.” She said. I sighed. Ah, I hate it when she’s right.

“But I haven’t even....prepared down there,” I confessed, sitting up.

“I got you, I know a place that does Brazilian waxing not too far from here, don’t worry I’ll pay for it.” She said, jumping out of bed. I crossed my legs with a scared look on my face. I haven’t had one personally but I’ve seen the way Lauren walked after her first couple of waxing appointments. Why the fuck would I wax when there such a thing called Nair. Granted I got some in my area once and wanted to die but it’s still my go-to choice. I watched Lauren grab her towel then began searching for something to wear.

“Lauren,” I called, whiningly.

“Yes?” She replied.

“I don’t want to go.”

She turned and looked at me. “Have you seen that forest between your legs? I sure—ah!” She screamed, running into the bathroom as she laughed her head off when I threw my slipper at her.

“It’s not that bad!” I yelled.

“You’re right, you’re right. I just thought of the perfect gift for Andre......hedge clippers.” She said, dying of laughter.

“Ha! Ha!” I yelled, sarcastically. I looked beneath my panties with a frown. Jesus, she right. I whimpered. I can already feel the pain. I looked down at my legs. I should probably get them done too. I jumped out of my skin for a moment when my phone rang. I smiled, listening to Andre’s ringtone. I took my phone off my nightstand. “Hey, baby,” I answered.

“That’s my line.” He said. I smiled, sadly. Damn, I miss him. “How are you?”

“I’m ok, Lauren’s being a nuisance as usual.”

He laughed. “That’s Lauren for you, once she likes you...she’s a headache to deal with. I’m sure glad I’m miles away.” He said, chuckling. I rolled my eyes.

“Lucky,” I said, rolling onto my side. I stared at the framed photo of us at his senior prom. He won prom king that night.

“Give me a minute, Ally.” He said. I heard him giving someone directions to the ICU. I took the time to build the courage to tell him I was ready but am I ready? Sure, you’ve been together for almost 11 years but what if we break up afterward? I always wanted to give my virginity to my husband—“Ally?”

“I’m ready.” I blurted, surprising myself. Ok, whoa. Why am I even worried about it? Andre is the man I love and the one I want to marry. So, yes. I am ready. He went quiet.

“You’re ready for what?” He said.

I took a deep breath. “I’m ready for us....to take that next step.”

“Huh? The next step? As in move in together?”

“No....f-for sex,” I whispered. Silence. I checked to see if the call disconnected but it didn’t. “Andre?”

“Ok, ok. Holy shit—are you sure?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m 100% sure.”

“Ok...ok...ok! Baby! That was too loud. Sorry.” He said. I giggled. “I’m going to go now...and see if I can find a last-minute room at a hotel—shit! I shouldn’t have said that. Oh my—do I sound nervous? Wait, no. Don’t answer that. I’m just going to go before I ruin anything else like telling you I found a place for us—fuck! Ok. I’m going to go. Bye, I love you.” As soon as he hangs up I burst out laughing. Yup, that’s the man I want to marry. I looked at my wallpaper, smiling. It’s was Andre fast asleep on my lap. The pic is like three years old, back when he had dreadlocks. He took them out when he moved to Miami. I hugged my pillow daydreaming about tomorrow.


I was walking like a hermit crab and Lauren was videoing me, laughing. I hope she fucking chokes. “Stop laughing!” I screamed at her.

“Then stop walking like that.” She said. I rolled my eyes. Hoe, my legs, arms, upper lip, armpits, groin, cooch, and booty crack are on fire. You and that woman who did this to me are devils and I refuse to be tortured like this ever again. I opened the door and shuffled inside.

“One of these days...I’m going to get you back for this,” I grumbled, as I threw my bag across the room.

“I doubt it but you can try.” She said, walking past me to charge her phone. “Do you still want me to do your hair?” I nodded.

“Yes, please,” I replied, pulling out a chair. I sat down with a groan then began taking down my space buns while she got her supplies. Lauren works at a salon not too far from here and the girl has mad skills to the point I’ve seen a couple of professors up here, letting her work her magic on them. And yes, the men too.

“So, while you were bawling your eyes out—even though the wax hadn’t even touched you yet—I was thinking about giving you body waves instead of just straightening your hair, especially since your hair is touching your ass now.” She said, pulling my hair down to my tailbone.

“Whatever you want to do,” I said. “Oh! I want curtain bangs!”


By the time she finished washing and styling my hair, it was almost middle night. I just finished packing my suitcase for the weekend. I brushed my teeth then climbed into bed. I grabbed my phone and smiled when I saw Andre’s goodnight text and the hotel’s information. As soon as I saw it my heart began to race. Don’t start overthinking this, Ally—tomorrow is going to be perfect. Andre is going to make it his mission to make you feel as comfortable. So, try to relax. I turned off my phone and hugged my pillow. After a minute I was ok. I let out a breath and tried to sleep.



Putting on a fake smile was something that felt the most natural to me but putting on a real one felt like I was on a bus with no destination. My mother and my younger brother, Elias, were the two only beings that have ever made the corners of my lips curl....a real smile—one that Elias would always jokingly say ‘careful, your face might crack.’ But it wasn’t like I had nothing good in my life to be happy about. That was not the case at all. I was born well off to a rich mother and a politician father, the fact of the matter is...I was dissatisfied. Dissatisfied with the trying to find comfort in material things, and playing the role of Micah Lombardi. Being Micah never felt right to me, it became a chore and a cloud of depression. I was too young, too naive to realize my true identity and goal. And that goal is a world denomination. Now at almost thirty-two years of age, world denomination is within my gasped and I don’t intend on letting it slip through my fingers.

I stood on the balcony with a glass of whiskey in hand, staring down at everyone below. Like a king grazing upon his pawns. Tonight I’m hosting one of many launch parties for my dating app, Ying n Yang. My target market is the rich and elite, or what I like to call the foolish, voracious, narcissistic pigs looking for a filthy mug pond to roll around in. However, unbeknownst to them—the app is a way for me to keep tabs on them. Once someone signs up, I can hack their devices undetected, and just like that all their dirty laundry is mine and I can blackmail them or sell it to the police if the mood takes me.

It’s a bit hypothetical on my part for selling their dirty laundry when mine just might be the dirtiest of all but what can I say? I’m a big fish and this pond is too crowd for my liking.

I was about to take a sip of my drink when a stocky man joined the party. Raphael ‘Cold Cut’ Morano, leader of West Italy’s drug cartel. Although I wasn’t expecting to see him tonight, I must say that suit of his is spectacular. A deep purple with gold inset. I scanned the room for his men and I found at least six of them but there might be more. Excitement filled my body causing me to clench my glass a little too tight. I took a deep breath and regained my posture. I checked my watch, it’s 2:47 am. These people have less than two hours before they’ll be kicked out and I have less than twenty minutes to get to the airport. I took one last look at Raphael before turning on my kneel and made my way to the elevator. I gave a waiter walking by my glass before walking inside, taking my phone out of my pocket to play Temple Run. The door opened to the parking lot. I whistled the ‘the Phantom of the Opera’ to my white Lamborghini. I hopped inside and pulled out of the parking lot.


I got to my hanger thirty minutes later. I drove inside then got out. I tossed my keys to the first man I saw. “Happy birthday, Mr. Lombardi.” He said.

“Thank you,” I said, walking past him. I was showered with more happy birthday wishes by the rest of my staff until I climbed up the steps into my jet.

“Happy birthday.” Said the two smiling stewardesses. They’re leggy with big breasts bursting through their red and black uniform.

“Thank you,” I said. The blonde one took my jacket and the brunette handed me a glass of whiskey. I walked to my seat and got comfortable. The blonde one closed the door and the brunette began buckling up. I checked the time then set up my devices in front of me, I scanned the live footage of the party, searching for Raphael and his men. I opened my phone to a very special app, honestly, it’s my favorite. It allows me to activate the silenced pistol hidden alongside cameras.

“This little piggy went to market.” I sang, pressing the button, killing the goon by the door. “These little piggies should have stayed home.” The next to fall was two at the bar. “And this little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way....to the hospital.” The next shot got Raphael in his right thigh. I smiled watching people scattering for door. I turned off my devices just in time for my plane to off. I took a sip of my drink. What a great way to start my birthday off with a bang.

Raph, you poor soul— that’ll teach you to never attempt to highjack my shipment, you fucking pig. You should know by know that Il Fantasma hears, knows, and sees everything. I thought laughing. I snapped my fingers and the blonde and brunette walked over in red lingerie. My favorite color.

“Kiss her,” I said to the brunette. She complied without hesitation. I kicked my feet up and enjoying the show.
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