Agent Whiskey Kingsman Novels & Stories

Say the part where the guy makes eye contact with Claude and then makes Super Torros for another guest at another table. Claude watched Aaron mix seven types of spirits, such as vodka, Martini, Cointreau, and put them in the shaker with mint, making a green cocktail, which at first glance was extremely refreshing, but he also knew that the refreshing glass of wine was really, immensely strong. Claude remembered Cyrus had drunk three glasses of Super Torros in the stomach, and suddenly felt his scalp numb. Cyrus didn't drink heavily, but when he went out, he kicked his feet and had to hold on to the wall all the way to get into the parking lot.

One kiss was all it took, and she had already started to draw him in. Honey tossed her keys into the bowl by the door and kicked her shoes off inside the front door. She barely remembered to latch the deadbolt as she went to the kitchen. Her mind was too full of cotton candy kisses and soft green eyes to focus on much else. It had only been one short kiss, but she hadn't been able to get the taste out of her mouth. She pulled a shot glass from one of the cupboards and grabbed the bourbon from the liquor cabinet. 3 a.m. wasn't the best time to drink, but Honey wasn't quite ready for the high to end. A little alcohol would help to extend it for just that much longer.

she continued, voice dripping with venom, “is a mafia heir. A kingpin in disguise. He sells drugs, arms, women—anything that gives him power.” “You’re lying...” My voice trembled “Am I?” she laughed. “He ordered hits on government agents. He smuggled enough heroin to bury an entire village in debt. He killed men with his bare hands, Trinity.” I shook my head. “No. No, that's not true. He saved me. Treasured and loved me.” “Because he wants to own you,” she spat. “Because you’re the one thing that makes him feel human again—and he can’t afford to lose that. But you? You’re just a token. A trophy. A weakness.”

Uncle Joseph spent some time that morning telling me stories about their lives. I've learned that they also rely on farming for their living, and one of his greatest sources of pride is the fact that they picked and ground the coffee he gave me. They lead a straightforward life. The only reason I could listen to him tell stories is because he makes me think of my father. We used to sit in a field and tell each other tales while laughing. We were just having fun at that point, so I never once considered losing him. I also never considered that he may genuinely be a werewolf as has been rumoured.

• • • • King Williamson or Williams of the Aqua Kingdom • • • • ~ ~ A vast kingdom but not as vast as the Solis and the Caelum kingdom and far away from them. However, greater than the Terre Kingdom and made up of great warriors ~ ~ It was late, and King Williamson was in his bedroom preparing to go sleep when his Kingsman Tommy barges in, "My king, you went for me." "How is the princess?" King Williams asks as he moves towards his bed and sits down while looking at Tommy.

Alpha Gaius was about to reply when his eyes finds mine. "Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to have you here." He walks over, I arch an eyebrow at Cedric, I know its not time to be cocky, but this man has never called me 'Your highness' before, in actual fact, he detests the monarchy, but he didn't have much option. I ignore his outstretched hand and side step him, glancing at the digital map of the pack lands on the table. He doesn't seem to be mad at my gesture, I guess, he had more pressing matters on his mind, so he continued.

Romaine asked, turning once around to take in his room. “I’m going to grab a bottle of wine,” he told her. “Make it whiskey, King,” she said to him. “I’m in the mood to get a little tipsy tonight.” “Just a little, darling,” Kingston growled and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. When she opened her mouth and nipped it, pulling it into her mouth to suck on it, he cursed and pulled back gently. “Whiskey it is, my sweet princess,” he muttered. He told her he’d be back in a minute and ducked out of his room. He leaned his back against the door for a minute, running a hand over his face, and caught sight of the bulge in his pants.

she nods. Abigail breaks the silence and what a better way to stop me from thinking about her sexy butt than talking about work. "Well if then... Hello there, fine lady. I'm James Reagan. The current owner of Reagan's whiskey house." "Nice to meet you, Mr. Reagan. I'm Abigail Kingsley. Founder and current owner of Kingsley resort." We both laugh. It seems like we both feel comfortable in each other's company.

As they each took a glass from the table, their backs towards King, Hunter and Joe simultaneously locked eyes. “Relax man.” Hunter whispered. “It's sorted now.” “I hope so.” Joe said, giving Hunter an unsure look and then they both reverted back to King, who stood up with the bottle in his hand as they approached. He poured some whiskey in their glasses and then set the bottle back on the table. “There's ice in the fridge but I'm drinking this clean today because today is an auspicious day.” King said. “You're welcome to get yourselves some ice but only after we make this toast.”

It was clear Hudson had made some major changes in the past few weeks. Clutching the carefully wrapped gifts in my arms, I followed Ares as he subtly adjusted the gun hidden under his jacket. “Oh la la,” I couldn’t help but exclaim as my eyes sparkled with excitement. One of the bartenders was performing an impressive show, skillfully shaking a drink and tossing a metal shaker high into the air. Ares cleared his throat loudly, drawing my attention. Leaning down slightly, he whispered, “The King has said I can’t let you touch alcoholic drinks.”