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

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.

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.

Arizona Turner has been my best friend since fourth grade, even when we hated each other. We've been there for one another through first kisses and first times, and we've been each other's constant when good relationships turned bad. (We even went to colleges that were minutes away from each other.) Throughout the years, and despite what anyone says, we've never crossed the line. Never thought about it. Never wanted to...until one night changed everything. At least, it should've....

NOVIO POR TREINTA DÍAS: Nunca debería haber aceptado ese acuerdo… Hace treinta días, mi jefe —un tiburón de Wall Street— acudió a mí con una oferta que no pude rechazar: poner mi firma en una línea de puntos y fingir ser su prometida durante un mes. Si accedía, podía rescindir mi contrato laboral con una indemnización por despido «extremadamente generosa». Las normas eran muy sencillas: prohibido besarse y tener sexo.

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.

Paris Weston está cansada de todas las promesas que su novio le ha hecho a lo largo de los años, así que en lugar de ir a su fiesta de compromiso se va al aeropuerto con la intención de coger el primer vuelo que esté a punto de salir lo más lejos posible. Compra un billete a Boston con dos escalas. Decidida a perderse en otra vida diferente a la suya, está convencida de que estar fuera una o dos semanas la ayudará a aclarar todas sus dudas.

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....

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.

Querida Hayley: Asumo que todavía estás de resaca, así que seré breve. Anoche te metiste bajo mis sábanas (sin mi permiso), y casi hicimos el amor. Salí de la cama tan pronto como me di cuenta de que eras tú y te llevé a casa. En caso de que lo hayas olvidado, eres la hermana pequeña de mi mejor amigo. Nunca seremos nada más. Sí, me gustó el roce de tus labios contra los míos cuando te pusiste encima de mí. Sí, por supuesto que prefiero el sexo rudo, pero estoy bastante seguro de que no fui rudo contigo. No, no tenía ni idea de que todavía eras virgen....

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.

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.

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...

Claire Gracen's life is picture perfect. Her career as a marketing director is on the brink of being legendary, and her marriage to her high school sweetheart has never been stronger. No, wait. It has. It used to be amazing and fulfilling, but one day Claire realizes that she's been living a lie and her best friend and husband have committed the ultimate betrayal. Broken and depressed, Claire is in need of something new - new city, new job, new friends.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

Por favor, deje su mensaje después de la señal…. Penelope, sé que son las tres de la mañana, pero necesito quitarme este peso de encima. No puedo seguir dándote consejos sobre cómo conseguir a ese otro tipo, contarte más «cosas sexis» que podrías hacer ni sugerirte más frases subidas de tono para enviarle por mensaje por la noche. Como tu mejor amigo, he alcanzado mi límite, y, sinceramente, debo decir que no te merece.