opposites-attractbad-boy18+

After the Closing

11 chapters

~28 min read

Jasmynn never crosses the street—she stays until the Pizza Hut closes, then finds Carl leaning against his motorcycle in the empty parking lot, waiting. The confrontation that follows is raw and desperate, and when she finally lets him touch her, it's not a reunion—it's a reckoning written in hungry mouths and bruised skin against cold concrete.

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MEET THE CHARACTERS

Jasmynn Elyzabeth

A 26-year-old beauty with delicate features and a petite frame that makes her look younger than she is—until you see the exhaustion in her eyes. She has honey-brown skin, dark hair she keeps pulled back in a practical ponytail, and the kind of body that draws stares even in a Pizza Hut uniform. Once adventurous and wild, she's become the reliable manager who clocks in early and stays late, her spark buried under spreadsheets and the weight of being responsible.

Carl L

A 31-year-old with the kind of rough handsomeness that comes from living hard—stubble that's never quite clean-shaven, a crooked grin that says he knows exactly what he's doing, and a lean, muscular build that moves with restless energy. His eyes are pale green, always scanning, always looking for the next thrill. He smells like motorcycle exhaust and cheap cologne, and he walks into rooms like he owns them.

EXPLORE CHAPTERS

Parking Lot Smoke

The last employee's car pulls out of the lot and Jasmynn steps into the night air, uniform still smelling of grease and oregano. Carl is there, straddling his motorcycle, one boot on the pavement, cig

First Contact

He takes the last step and his hand catches the back of her neck, calluses rough against the soft skin behind her ear, and pulls her into him. Her palms hit his chest—not to push, just to steady herse

Teeth and Leather

His hand finds the hem of her shirt, callused knuckles dragging up her stomach as he deepens the kiss until she's gasping against his tongue. The metal seat digs into her thighs, but she doesn't care—

Mouth Over Metal

Instead of answering, she presses her palm flat against the front of his jeans and feels him go still—then hard. His breath catches as she works the button open, one-handed, her other hand fisted in h

Cold Concrete Reckoning

He drags her uniform shirt higher, his thumb grazing the underside of her breast. She gasps against his mouth and works his jeans down past his hips, the leather of his jacket creaking as he shifts. T

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