Like A Drug My name is Gillian Tate. Gillian. Not Jill. I hate the name Jill, so I’ve managed to train everyone in my life not to call me that. My father, however, insists on calling me ‘Jilly’. Particularly annoying coming from someone named Jackson. I enjoyed a very happy childhood. My dad, Jackson Tate was great, while my mother, Marguerite, was a bit more high maintenance. She always wanted more excitement than my fat...

I felt shame tinged with pleasure as I lay there thinking about the story. I knew that I shouldn't have enjoyed it, but I couldn't deny the effect it had on me. I tossed my tablet aside and tried to catch my breath, my heart still racing from the experience. I closed my eyes and imagined the scenes from the story playing out in my mind, feeling a thrill run through me. I can't believe I just did that... I knew that this w...

“Hey, sweetie,” he greeted me with a quick hug and kiss to my forehead. Just like old times. But it's funny, I don't remember in old times him being so damned attractive. He wasn’t a big burly bodybuilder, with a beard and tattoos and rippling, sinewy muscles. He was an insurance agent, for God’s sake! But he's tall, and slim, and good looking in a really solid kind of way. He's fit not because he went to the gym, but bec...