Any Man の小説・ストーリー

Hunter responded. After taking a swig from his glass, the man asked, “So why are you turning down such beautiful ladies?” “In case you're gay, I'm straight.” Hunter raised his hands at the man. “Don't come at me with no gay stuff.” The man threw his head back and roared with laughter. He looked like he was in his mid-forties. He didn't look feminine at all, quite the opposite. He looked like a macho man. With his low-cut hair, and cleanly cut moustache that met his bearded chin. He was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his biceps and a gold watch around his right wrist. Hunter noticed a silver ring on his ring finger.

He holds a similar energy just like his father's but I refuse to be intimidated by him. "I don't want to have anything to do with you, clearly you're nothing like the girls I like. You're simply not my type". he smirks as his grey eyes scan me, more like checking me out. Oh I definitely know how to deal with cocky jerks like you! "The feeling is mutual Mr..." I try to remember his name "Nathan" he completes "Nathan" I repeat. You can't be my type, you're too old for me, what are you like, 30?"

One seemed to be elderly and the other one was a kid. "You two shut your mouths up! I don't need you here! I was wrong to summon you two!" Mr. Manore angrily said. He looked at me again with his usual smile and said, "You shouldn't be here, Merchaiass. You're a good man; I sensed it." "W-what?"

Just enough. The first one was fine. The second one we scrolled past without discussion. The third one made us both go still. Red background. A man from the shoulders down — no face, no name, just structure. Wide shoulders, a chest that looked carved, abs that led down to a V line so sharp it disappeared into dark trousers like a map to somewhere dangerous. One hand held a black belt loosely at his side. At the bottom of the frame a woman's hand rested on the waistband of his trousers, her position making it clear she was on her knees.

DEG! This man…He's...

Like he didn’t know what to touch, what to hold, what to let go of. How do you tell a man who lost his wife that he doesn’t have to be strong? You don’t. You simply stand with him long enough that he realizes he isn’t alone. “Liana?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper. “Yes?” “If you hadn’t been there today…” He paused, jaw tightening, breath catching. “I don’t think I would’ve made it.” My heart pulled tight. “You would’ve,” I said gently. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have.”

Pаrt оf mе ріtіеѕ all the mасhо guуѕ оut thеrе thаt dоn’t have thе сарасіtу or opportunity tо open up. Yes, I’m a mаn. I’vе a сосk аnd tattoos. I lіkе tо сuѕѕ аnd lіft wеіghtѕ. I’m ѕtubbоrn аnd wіllful and jealous sometimes, but I’m still human.

The guards all bowed as he walked " Get the stuffs in the car " he ordered and they all rushed toward the car Alyssa followed him silently ******* " Luther, you are finally back " A man who look like he's in his early forties said with a smile " Yeah,,with his mate " Another woman who is likely to be his wife said and Luther faced them " Yeah,,am back. I found her ' He said " I fucking smell human in this house!! " A voice of a girl who should be between 17 or 18 years said out loudly walking into the same room they are in

What a manipulative man! .........