Resultado narrado por "Iggy Toma" em Todas as categorias

A guy in a skirt wouldn't turn a straight guy on, right? I spent the last decade performing next to him. I've never looked at him as more—until I walked in on him in a skirt. He's as broken as I am. We survived our childhood together. And when he's finally trying to embrace the parts his father tried to beat out of him, I can't handle it. He's taunting me with smeared eyeliner and a filthy smile, singing to a sold-out crowd, and it's getting too hot under these stage lights. I can't look him in the eyes. I can't be with him—not like that—but I can't stop thinking about him.

The idea of moving away from Seattle was a joke at first. I have too many failed relationships here. Too much baggage. So when I find myself signing with Nashville and leaving everything behind, I’m hopeful a new start will cure me of my attachment problems. I fall fast and hard, and I’m quickly realizing it’s not so easy to escape my emotional damage. That follows no matter where I go.

I love watching chemicals bond, but I avoid the practice myself. When I'm not teaching, I'm hanging out with my cat and putting together puzzles. I shy away from romantic entanglements because I know firsthand the collateral damage they cause. Until I bump into Anton and Sebastian: best friends, business partners, and former wrestling superstars at South Rock High who could barely pass my class. Catching up turns into drinking, which turns into dancing, which turns into them practicing wrestling moves on me, sans clothing.

I have one rule to live by: Don't Date a DILF. I've seen the consequences of blurring the boundaries between teaching life and dating life, and I'm not about to take that kind of risk.

There's no one worse for me to want in my bed than Jake Tully. He's hot and grumpy and literally a terrible idea. Terrible. Worse, no one has ever made me feel the way he does—valued. But here I am, thinking about him again. Falling for my sponsor is not my worst idea yet, but it's damn close.

Most of the guys on Palm Island call me the token straight guy. The truth is, I'm not so much straight as I'm just… nothing. Asexual, demi, the label doesn't make much of a difference to me. And living on an island that's nothing but parties and nudity half the year… well, let's put it this way… I'm the guy who sells clothes.

It was a meet-cute that should have come with a happy ending. I was hardly at my best when I caught Andy snapping photos of me topless in the name of street photography. I fired angry words at him. In exchange, he gave me his jacket to keep me warm. Thus began our friendship and an unrequited crush on a man who was about to get married.

The first time I met Ford, I knew instantly we were bound to be enemies. I loathe every gorgeous, pretentious inch of the man, even after the I dos. If it's a marriage he wants, then a marriage he'll get . . . starting with our honeymoon. I'll make our marriage such an unbearable hell that he'll ask for an annulment. When my plan backfires and I accidentally sleep with my new husband on our honeymoon, things take a turn I least expected. Now I need a divorce . . . or maybe not?

Max has been in love with his childhood best friend, Ash, for years. The reason he has kept it a secret is because Ash also happens to be Max's brother's ex-boyfriend. Complicated doesn't begin to explain their relationship.

My printsessa thinks she's taken a regular job for a regular lawyer. She doesn't know the devils that lurk below the surface now that she's in my world. The bratva world. Innocent, sweet, and trusting. All the things I am not. All the things I never knew I wanted.

Walking in on my best friend mid-hookup isn't supposed to turn me on, but it's only sex, right? Finding intimacy is a bit discouraging with a neurological disorder that affects my legs. But Elliot gets it—gets me. He's my ride or die and always supportive. Always protective too. Not because he thinks I'm incapable, but because he cares. When I invite him to my brother's wedding, he becomes the ultimate date. And when we decide to blow off a little steam with each other, I'm trusting it won't ruin our friendship. Except it becomes more than jerking off after late-night study sessions.

Being in love with a client sucks. As Cash Me Outside's band manager, I've been nothing but professional for years. But the lead guitarist tortures me daily just by breathing. Sebastian Rose has no idea how I feel about him, and I intend to keep it that way. I can't break my rules. Seb doesn't do serious, and I won't risk my job for something temporary. It takes a leaked nude, an overzealous stripper, and a group winter vacation to change everything.

I've never let anyone into my life. At least not like her. Not until her. She sees a side of me that isn't the bratva monster everyone else believes. Now that she knows, she's mine. Mine to keep and protect. Mine to please. In return, it's her love I crave. She's my soulmate.

Welcome to Black Diamond Resort and Spa… Where the rich and famous go to disappear. Some to relax, some to get sober. For me… It's my last shot, my final chance at redemption. I'm hotheaded. Reckless. Self-Destructive. I don't want to be here, but not doing so means losing everything I've worked my whole life for. It means losing my band. The only family and the only constant I've ever known. They say I have a problem. That I need help. I say it's just part of fame. The drugs help numb the pain. Keep the demons away. I'm doing my best to keep my head down and bide my time until I can go home.

After years of drowning myself in parties, hookups, and pain, all it takes is one viral sex tape to be given a choice: Hide out on an island or lose my trust fund. Having to share a room with the one man I let hurt me is my worst nightmare. I’m the broken shell of the boy he walked away from on the worst day of my life. I hate him almost as much as I hate myself.

In one month, I turn thirty-five with my virginity still intact. Is there anything more embarrassing than knowing most of my French students have gotten more action than me? Je suis triste. When I accidentally reveal this secret to my close friend and co-worker Seamus, South Rock's baseball coach, he offers to help me round the bases. It has to be a joke, because Seamus is one million percent straight. There's no way he'd want to fool around with a chubby language nerd like me, even though I've harbored a secret crush on him since the day he first walked into the teachers' lounge.

Straining my groin is bad enough. It puts my hockey career, my future, but even worse, my dignity on the line. Having to get massages in that area from Vance Landon, one of the team trainers, is mortifying. It’s impossible to hide my feelings toward him. If my constant blushing and bumbling doesn’t give it away, my body does. It’s getting to the point where I wonder if hockey is even worth the embarrassment. Trying to avoid him only makes him seek me out more. He’s determined to rehab my injury, but all I want is for him to leave me alone.

I've been in love with my best friend for years. The problem? He thinks I'm straight. Now that I share a dorm with him, his insistent need to cuddle—and lack of clothes—are blurring the careful lines I've drawn. I'm struggling to keep my defenses up. I love him, but I'm afraid. Afraid I'm not enough to make him stay. Afraid he'll rip my heart out. Afraid he won't love me back. But I see a side of him no one else does. In the security of our room, he lets his mask fall, lets me hold him.

As a con man-turned-MPD-Agent, I'm fairly new to the whole "upholder of justice" thing, but even for me, there are some lines you just don't cross. Agent Söze of the MPD's Internal Affairs department, on other hand, seems determined to slime his way across every ethical line in existence like an over-sized eel on a power trip.

I should be a glitter bomb of excitement about my college friends getting married. But all I can think about is running into my uber-successful ex and his new boyfriend at the wedding . . . while I'm flying painfully solo. I need a plus one, stat. Enter Raleigh Marshall. As luck (or misfortune) would have it, a picture of me and South Rock High's too-blessed-to-be-stressed football coach accidentally finds its way on social media, making people believe we're an item. Raleigh is hot, charming, and one of South Rock's most popular teachers. The problem is that he knows it.