Gemini_writes

Deandra Sparks wasn't immune to arrogant male energies especially when it came to a powerful one like this one in front of her. She had read about Andrè Rossi and seen most of his pictures but seeing him in person, she felt she should sue all those photographers for not doing justice to his great beauty. 

Damn. The guy was hot as hell!

He was saying something but Dee was not listening. Her lips fell slightly open as she followed the trail of his lips on the back of her hand. 

  How would those lips feel on hers?

********************************

Andrè Rossi the son of one of America's most influential businessmen, Lukas Rossi, woke up to see a false publication on the media by his ex-girlfriend, accusing him of rape. And now his distraught father whose greatest fear was a bad family reputation had sought to hire the service of a media revamper that would help erase the scandal that his son had plunged them into.

What happens when the feisty, masochist article writer Deandra Sparks comes into the picture? 

Will her flame burn the infamous New York award-winning Casanova? 

Is she willing to quench this fire in him?

And what happens when she is in a struggle between yielding to his soft touches and keeping to her resolution of not mixing business with pleasure?

Alpha King's Tequila

Deandra watched Andre drive off after dropping her at work, before recovering and turning to walk into the giant edifice called her office. She knew by now Chloe will be at work and ready to tear her ears down after avoiding her calls all through yesterday.


"Dee!" Chloe screamed from her cubicle when she emerged from the elevator and walked towards her.


"Sorry, Mr Flinch..." Appealed, Chloe sharing a look with Deandra hence bending to howl with laughter below her cubicle.


"Not today, Chloe, I'm officially deregistering myself from being accomplice to your mischief." Dee fell into her seat and swivelled around, her eyes nearly popping out when they landed on the table where a bunch of red roses were seated on top of her desk in a well-packaged brown wrapper. 


New demands