C.J
2 Published Stories
C.J's Books and Stories
The Water Girl
Romance Damn water, girl.! Shouldn’t you just stick to the salad you have in your hands? You keep eating unhealthy foods like pizza. You’re going to get too big to run and fetch me my water.”
“Thanks for your concern, Arron, but it’s unwanted and needed because all I’m eating today is my salad.”
“You do not have to explain anything to that douche bag,” Sydney hisses at me.
“I was being sarcastic, Syd.”
Sydney rolls her eyes at Arron, then leads us over to our table. Luckily, I made it to my table without a hitch. Normally, I end up with most of my food on me before I get to my table.
“Are you okay Riv? “Sydney asks me once we get sat down.
“Yes, I’m used to it by now.”
“Wow, River Rock just walked in.”
My skin instantly heats at that name. Rock (James Martinez) is not only the hottest guy at school. He is the quarterback and captain, and my biggest hater at Scotts high. To make matters worse, his mom is dating my dad.
“Hey water girl, go get me some food.” Rock says, coming over and sitting down at our table like he owns it.
“Fuck off Rock.” Sydney says, then gets up and positions herself in between us. I guess she thinks that’s going to stop him from harassing me. I go to get up and get him food so he will leave me alone, but my friend is not having that.
“Sit your ass down.” Sydney growls.
“Just let me do this Syd so I might eat in peace today.”
“You’re going to eat in peace, anyway. I will make sure of it,” Sydney says between clenched teeth. She really doesn’t know what she starts when she does this.
Surprising, Rock gets up and walks over to get his own food, then goes and sits with his girlfriend and the other football players. I get to eat my food in peace for the rest of the lunch hour. Once the bell rings, Sydney and I head to our next class. We make it through our last couple classes and then it’s time to go out on the football field to make sure the team has plenty of water.
I wonder if I could get away with putting some laxative tablets in their waters see how good they practice having to run to the bathroom every 5 minutes.
“Yo water girl, get your ass over here with the damn waters,” Damion, the linebacker, yells at me. Making me jump out of my daydream.
You know I’m not the only water girl out here, but I’m the only one that gets picked on. I really don’t understand what I have done to make them target me. Unlike Tiffany, who's dry humping Rock's leg while giving him water, I'm quiet and keep to myself.
Walking towards the table, I put some more water glasses down on it. Then I walk over to the guys that are standing around waiting to get on the field to see if they want any water. “It’s about damn time, water girl.” Most of the guys say, but there are some. The freshmen thanked me. But that will soon change once they hear what the other guys call me and the way they treat me, then they will start doing the same.
Once that set of guy’s head on the field, the ones that were on the field head off it, so I do the same thing for them. I walk up to them and pour water into the mouths of the ones that want water and get shoved to the side by the ones that don’t want water. God, I really don’t know why I am doing this… I really hate football. But it's either this or having to hear my dad complain about me not doing anything.
By the end of practice I have everything packed up, and ready to head to the locker room when Rock and his friend Damion walk up behind me, pushing me so hard I fall and the bottles in my hands go flying around the field.
“Oh, damn water girl, I didn’t see you standing there.” Rock says, then bends down to help me up to my feet, but I slap his hand away.
“Now, now, River, is that anyway to treat your sum to be stepbrother?” Rock chuckles.
God, I hope not.
“My dad will never marry your mother. He loved my mother too much.” I spit at him and he sees red. Rock lifts me up off the ground by my shirt, hauling me into his body. “You listen to me, you little bitch.”
“James Martinez, put River down right now.” Coach barks at him and Rock chunks me to the ground and I land on my butt hard. Once everyone heads to the locker room, I get up and start gathering the bottles that went flying a minute ago back up and put them back in the bags. Coach must have stayed behind because he helped me with the bottles. “You know, Ms. Darby, you really shouldn’t let them boys treat you that way.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I really don’t have any choice. “Thanks coach I say.” Once he helps me up and gives me the bags to carry to the locker room.
“River, I’ve known your dad for a long time, and I don’t think he would be too happy to know how bad things are for you at school.”
“No offense, coach, but you must not know my dad as well as you think you do, because my father couldn’t care less.” I walk on into the locker room without another word.
Saving Corky
Romance I started out on the streets when I was 16 years old — when my parents walked in my room one night and found me in bed with one of my dad's business partners. My parents didn't care that a man came into my room and touched me inappropriately during their party. They were more concerned about their reputation. "A well-respected business executive" like my father couldn't have a whoring daughter like me, bringing his name to shame, so I had to go. And it didn't matter that I had nowhere to go.
So, now at 22, I find myself a prostitute with a bad-tempered pimp, and a drug problem. I stay high on anything I can get my hands on just, so I don't have to feel the nasty shit the Johns are doing to me or be sound of mind when I'm blowing them off. I'm in my tiny ass apartment right now getting ready to head out to my corner for the night and get me a John or two.... try to make me some money for the night. I have rent due in a day are two, so as I'm getting ready, I snort me I line of coke and fuck that shit good. I look at myself in the mirror one last time... make sure I don't have any white shit on my nose, are anywhere else, then I head out to the corner.
"Hey Layla, any new business tonight?" I ask the lady and my best friend that stands on the same corner as me.
"Hey Corky girl. No, it's been kind of quiet tonight, but the night is still young girly... and you're looking fire tonight, so I'm sure you will get a few hits."
"I hope so, Layla. I have rent this week, and you know how Martin is about us being late for our rent."
"Yes, well, Martin should take the cut we give him after every night as our rent money." Layla spits out.
"Watch what you say, Layla. He has ears everywhere." I tell her and sway a little on my feet.
"Corky damnit girl, you really need to lie off that shit," Layla shays at me.
"Only if I could find another way not to feel I would, Layla."
"Corky girl, why won't you get your GED? Carry your ass to college... and get the hell out of New York, away from this shit." Layla says for the 100th time. She tells me the same shit every night. She has since I was 18, and first started prostituting for Martin, our sleaze-bag pimp. I'm smart enough I could get my GED, and get into a community college, and make something of myself, but would Martin let me go? I'm one of his highest paid prostitutes.
"Corky, look alive, baby girl. Here comes some action, Layla says," breaking me out of my daydream.
"Oh, joy!" Here we go. "Hey there, handsome... what'll be tonight?" I say, leaning into the passenger window. It's a nice-looking older gentleman in his mid-40's not someone you would think you would see picking up a prostitute for an hour.
"I would like to rent you for the hour."
"Rent me?" This guy has done nothing like this in his life. Poor fucking sap. "Um, sweetheart, you don't rent us. You buy us for as long as you need us. We do whatever you want in that time frame and the price starts at $50 dollars and goes up from there, I tell him."
"That's doable he tells me." Then he just sets there for a minute like he's not too sure what to do about the information I just gave him. "Okay sweetheart, if you want to do this, then I have to get into your car. Then we will go to a motel or somewhere and that's where the real fun will begin," I tell him.
"Oh, yes, right, sure? Um, get in and then we can figure out where we will go for the night," he tells me, so I open the passenger door and climb in." Your first time I ask him?"
"That obvious, huh?"
"Yes," I smile at him, "but that's okay. So, what are you looking for tonight?" I ask him, then I kind of glance around his car and find a damn car seat in the back seat of his car. Really, man? "So, you and your wife just had a baby, huh?"
"Oh, um, I'd rather not talk about that, if you don't mind."
You might like
Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. Flash Marriage To The Alpha Colonel
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
Cornelia I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting."
When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home.
Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name.
He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal.
I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing.
As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life. The Betrayed Heiress And Her Genius Comeback
I. HAWKINS I skipped my final lab review in Geneva and endured a fourteen-hour flight to surprise my husband for our fourth wedding anniversary.
Instead, looking through the window of our beachfront estate, I saw him playing the perfect, loving father to a "tragic widow's" daughter, kissing the widow with practiced, casual intimacy.
Fleeing in pure panic, I got into a horrific car crash.
Waking up in the VIP hospital room, I kept my eyes shut and heard my husband talking to his best friend right beside my bed.
"She's just a party girl who knows how to swipe a black card. I only play the part because I need her father's proxy vote for the IPO."
"Every time I have to touch her in bed, it feels like a corporate obligation. It makes me sick."
Later, even my own father demanded I step down from my company role and publicly welcome the mistress, just to protect the family's investment in the upcoming ten-billion-dollar IPO.
Four years of marriage and quiet humiliations, all reduced to a calculated lie. They all thought I was just a brainless, hysterical socialite who could be easily manipulated and discarded.
They didn't know that the core anti-aging algorithm his entire empire relied on was secretly built by me.
I calmly pulled out my phone and texted my divorce lawyer.
"I want him bankrupt. On the day his company rings the bell, I am going to burn his entire life to the ground." After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. 
/0/45154/coverorgin.jpg?v=c9fc5d96dffb697fd38b19d53a044847&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/45122/coverorgin.jpg?v=d2c81ad53c68be485cad5c84fa9fc391&imageMogr2/format/webp)
0
TOP UP
Reading History
Sign out
Get the APP
/1/106591/coverorgin.jpg?v=7112ffc44f6337f03a03bec3d6824a38&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112583/coverorgin.jpg?v=18d6e11bd7e648d3c960a600b8a48bd9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110344/coverorgin.jpg?v=ee9edc19532d5cad4529d092169ad91d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114527/coverorgin.jpg?v=224f42444cb898f57eb3d1f04dbef82b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/89487/coverorgin.jpg?v=f2315ec669d3740f8cfa6b8315d4e559&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105410/coverorgin.jpg?v=68bf1b78d60cae51b9e167ecf8a0a734&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112769/coverorgin.jpg?v=d48bc058cf8c793784fde613b044637b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106250/coverorgin.jpg?v=e4e3d94e67e6bc16aef1c6b8ac1afa18&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113569/coverorgin.jpg?v=c561c0e1e2fbfe3faa5efcc7ab6477b5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102856/coverorgin.jpg?v=b1608f8b252c671e4efe9a90343f3a01&imageMogr2/format/webp)