Leona Pierce was deeply obsessed with color black. Just like her soul, she lived in darkness. The stubborn little fire always had reasons to despise the world and unleash the hell, but when Tayson Huxley decided to splash his tints on her soul, she couldn't come up with an excuse to hate him. 
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. 
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Leona Pierce-heartless and detached artisan who lurked behind the colors and the ink carved on her skin. The messy soul who was fighting the demons of her mind stumbles upon Tayson Huxley.
  
Tayson Huxley-The man epitome of desire, arrogance, and pure sex. Both found themselves trapped in their own little bubble, knowing that it would fusillade with time. When the fire and storm cross paths, the fuse of hatred, stubbornness, little ego games, and undeniable chemistry leads to the explosion of something that none of them wants in their life.

Was this the game of resistance? Or the game of love? Will Leona win against the charmer, Tayson? Or will Tayson lose his heart to win her?

The Pretty Witch

Tayson bit on his index finger, the burning ashes ardently observing the winter hair goddess. She was perched on the chair, deeply submerged in her art. 


Those damn tattoos. He could see her left hand smoothly sailing on the white sheet and it gave him sparks of his nasty dream about her. The way her hands caressed his back, splitting blissful grunts from him, the way his cock reverted to the illusion of her, a- 


"Isn't it a bit too much?" Wes asked, perceiving well his boss was executing a felony in front of his naked eyes. "She will kill you if she found out." 


"She won't find it." Tayson shook his hand casually, swivelling his chair and eyes plastered to the screen. "Unless you run your fucking mouth while fucking Ryan." 


"Tayson, stop it. You are confusing me by saying all this. I am starting to think that I-" 


18| A lavender conversation|