At that moment, my feet refused to take me home. They were glued in place. Jake’s sad eyes locked with mine and I couldn’t look away. All I saw was a little boy who wanted to be like his older brother. His idle stare gave me the impression he wasn’t surprised by the greeting. Like he was resigned to it. His eyes didn’t let me go until the car sped off, and I could only make out the red tail lights. I never saw his dad again, but I saw plenty of his brother. Jake stayed close to him around school until he left to go to university.
We’ve been sort-of friends ever since. I never ask him about his family, and he never volunteers any information. It’s as if the evening never happened, yet it’s etched into my mind so deeply I always think about it when I see the harsher side to Jake. Those few moments had tied me to Jake, and although the tenuous threads may have frayed, they always make me go easy on him when I really should give up and never speak to him again.
“Have you got your essay finished?” I change the subject, wanting to get back to surer ground.
“Essay?” he asks, again looking for me to explain.
“You know, the one assigned last week comparing the multi-store model of memory and the working memory model?”
“Looks like I’ve got a piss-poor memory, huh.” He wiggles his eyebrows humorously, and I’m right back to loving him again.
I turn away and bury my head in my hands and try to balance out my own mood towards Jake. The lesson is over with no other wisecracks from Jake, and I head over to the other side of the school for my last lesson of the day.
“Hey, Lil, wait up,” Jake calls after me, and I freeze. He waits for the steady stream of students to thin around us before going any further. It’s my turn to look expectantly at him.
“So, you have a better offer for the weekend than what’s-her-name’s party?”
“No, I just don’t think it’s my thing.” I pull my books into my chest and inch my feet towards my next class. As much as I want to keep talking to Jake, I don’t want to be late. I keep my eyes away from his, not wanting to get trapped in them. It’s a constant hazard I’m susceptible to. I’m sure he can see everything I feel if he will only look a little harder at me. As no other guy in school has ever shown me any attention, I’m under no illusion the first one will be Jake Stewart. My feet start toward the science block. Jake walks beside me a little way. Sometimes, on the occasions when Jake was close to acting like a normal friend, I felt as if he was waiting to tell me something. It never transpired though and like all the other times, he peels away and turns back in the opposite direction. No ‘bye’ or ‘see you later’, but then, that isn’t Jake’s style.
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In her spare time, she is a dedicated LGBTQIA rights activist with a special focus on the thousands of rejected and abandoned kids who end up on the street every year. To support the cause, 25% of the royalties from every book go to LGBT charities.


“Stacy did not disappoint! . . . Dodger is that alpha Brooks man we’ve grown to love!” ~Amazon Review (Angela R.)
“. . .this was one of my favorites. I have been waiting for this book” ~Amazon Review (Amber)
“I loved this book! I didn’t want it to end! I didn’t want to put it down once I started it!” ~Amazon Review

Little had she known, it was all part of his sick little game.
Toying with the business card in her hand, could she call on a perfect stranger and ask for help?
What did she expect from him? Rescue? Protection? Escape?
Denim Gargliano, is a powerful, well respected businessman.
Everyone wants to be his friend or be a part of his success.
Everyone wants to be him
When a dark haired girl sweeps into his life unexpectedly, his world is turned upside-down.
He knows he must be careful. Allowing someone into his world leaves them both vulnerable.
However, nothing and no one will stand in his way when it comes to protecting the ones he loves.


Tee Smith released her debut novel Collecting Scars in 2016. She always wanted to write professionally, but as it does, life got in the way and she only took up writing novels after she turned 40.
Tee lives on a small farm in Western Australia, with a host of animals, including two donkeys. As well as writing, she is also a nurse, wife and mother to four teenagers.
From the moment I first saw my stalker, I was captivated.
The man with the black leather jacket and dark, spiky hair sits on a bench across the street from my house, staring down at a notebook.
Every night, he sits there at exactly ten p.m., looking off into the distance or writing his notes under the street light … or looking straight at me.
Like he is now.
Our eyes meet, and a sudden electrical current rushes through my veins.
I’m unable to look away from his piercing blue eyes, and I wonder … How long ago did he first see me?
I’ve only noticed him outside recently … watching over my house as if he’s guarding it. Guarding me.
I don’t know if I should be scared. If I should run or call the cops.
He’s never come close.
So is there any reason to act?
As long as he maintains his distance … an invisible line he doesn’t cross … I still feel safe. I can survive, knowing he is there, wherever I go.
I never know when or where I’m going to see him again.
I just know I will.
A hampered breath leaves my throat as he stares me down from across the street. His gaze feels like it penetrates through the closed windows. And for a brief second, I think I spot a hint of a smile.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“Shower,” I grumble, annoyed with her indecisiveness.
My cock tents my pants, and I will it down, but it’s not happening. So I take them off, along with my boxer shorts, socks, and shoes. Then I pull off my shirt and throw it in the corner of the bathroom on the pile of clothes that was already there.
When I turn around to grab some shampoo, she’s still standing in the living room, blatantly staring at my naked body while blinking rapidly, her lips parting ever so slowly.
A smirk grows on my face. “Seen a ghost or something?”
Her face glows red, and she stutters, “I can’t believe you just took off your clothes while I’m still here.” She swallows, visibly confused. “Do you want me to go? I can go.”
I shrug. I don’t see the problem. “You can stay.” I give her a smile, and she tentatively smiles back, trying to hide the obvious stare. I guess my cock stole the show.
“Okay,” she murmurs as I turn around and turn on the shower, wondering if she’s staring at my ass. She probably is, judging from the squeaks in her voice. “I’ll go sit down over here…”
I don’t answer, as it wasn’t a question, and I don’t see the point in discussing something completely irrelevant. I’m a man of actions, not of words, and I prefer the written word regardless. I could write whole essays about how her beauty captivates me and about all the things I would do to her to make her mine.
But she already knows that.
She’s seen my notes.
Touched herself to my dirtiest fantasies.
And now, I’m touching myself to them too.
Under the shower, my cock has done anything to cool down.
All I can think of is claiming her for my own, and it only makes me stroke myself more. I don’t even care that she’s in the room beside me. I need the release, one way or another, and if she doesn’t want it, then I’ll have to take care of it myself.
So I imagine her showering with me as I jerk myself off, picturing her naked body. I hiss and bite my lip, completely immersing myself in my own fantasy. The fact she’s right next door only makes it that much more exciting. That much more forbidden.
But when I open my eyes for just a second, I spot her standing in the doorway, with her mouth wide open.


“Who are you?” she demanded answers, not realizing he was pulling her between two buildings.
“I told you, I’m Malcolm Corpseknot the third.”
Realizing she was being led to a shaded alley, Akela opened her lips to scream and he slapped his hand over her mouth.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the promise was breathed softly into her ear. “Listen to me.” His lips were against her earlobe and his hand sat firmly clamped over her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to lower my hand. Do not scream.” His eyes met hers, waiting for a grunt, or nod, or some indication of an agreement, but she didn’t comply. “I want to lower my hand, Akela,” he slowly spoke, staring her in the eyes. “Are you going to scream?”
Akela shook her head yes and he chuckled, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

This short story is available as part of the Crave For Me anthology or as a stand alone story here. It is over 17,000 words and contains sexual situations and language only suitable for those aged 18+Ever had one of those men in your life that you want no matter what? They’ve spent a lifetime in your head when what you really want is to have them wanting every part of you. This is a standalone short story about that guy and a women who’s had a crush on him for too long. Her crush might finally be the one who takes her to all the places she’s desired and give her the romance she’s longed for.
Jules finally comes face to face with the one man she’s been avoiding for years; her brother’s best friend, her first kiss and the guy who taught her what lust is. The soldier is home on leave for a wedding but where does Jules fit in to this? Joe might want her more than he’s ever let on or maybe he just wants to get some release before he heads back to barracks. Is he just another bad boy who will break her heart before she gives him his marching orders or will he set her body on fire as they engage in a battle of wills and pleasure?
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