Amor Amargo Novels & Stories

, he states with a smirk… All I’m thinking is, he’s obviously referring to those wicked ass blow jobs of hers that fuck a man’s head up the way it did to me the other night! “Wait! What am I missing here?” Amory snaps, silencing us. “Okay, I’ll just G****e it then”. She starts searching for her phone. Really?! “Dios mío, Amory, significa hacer cosas sexuales mientras tienes el período”, (oh my God, Amory, it means doing sexual stuff while on your period) I told her. It takes her a moment to translate it, but when she does her face goes pale. “And why couldn’t you all just say that? So fucking immature”, she shouts angrily. “I’m gonna shower, what room are you staying in”?

Amar smiles hearing that. “Fine if that's your wish. I can only support you as a friend, "said Amar to Kalf. Amar suddenly turned to Rio, who had been silent. Amar was even more surprised when he saw Rio who was smiling to himself looking at his cellphone. Amar is more and more convinced that his best friends is not doing well this time. Like being hit by love viruses. If his wife found out, surely Axelina would bully her two friends. Just imagining it, Amar wanted to laugh. "We buy smoked milkfish and otak-otak milkfish look delicious, Mar. Let Axelina cook it later, ”said Kalf to Amar.

“It’s rude.” “I’m allergic to charm,” she said flatly. “Then you should leave,” he replied smoothly, eyes on me. “Aurora, right? Marcelo Falconeri’s stepdaughter?” “Yeah,” I said cautiously. “Thought so.” He leaned back, confidence dripping from every move. “Word travels fast here.” “I’ve noticed,” I muttered. “You’ll get used to it.” He glanced at my friends. “You girls don’t mind if I steal her for a minute, do you?”

The room spun slowly, Marco’s smile blurred last, darkness took me completely with his voice echoing soft. “Sleep tight amore. We have work to finish.”

“No. But I've seen chicas feas y desesperadas ‘desperate ugly girls’ like you try to control guys that aren't theirs. He doesn't want you.” My face flushes red with anger. I felt heat rise up to my neck. She had guts for someone that doesn't know me at all. Behind me, Jeremías leans in. His chest presses against my shoulder blades, his warm breath smearing against the sensitive skin of my ear. “That was an insult,” he murmurs, his voice a dark purr. “Ugly was mentioned too.” That is it. I instinctively lunge at her, my arms stretched out, ready to wipe that proud smug off her irregular shaped face.

It was a feeling warmer than any blanket, more potent than any drink. I opened my door quietly and stepped into the hallway. The air still carried the faint, expensive trace of his cologne—that stupid Tom Ford thing he wore like armour. I inhaled once, deep, letting it settle in my lungs. He was fraying at the edges, and I could practically taste it on my tongue. The metallic tang of defeat. Good..... I locked my door, pulled my own hood up, and headed for the gym. The same direction he had just come from. The same time, the same hotel, the same beautiful hell we’d built for each other.

Aramide cried. She took a step towards Angel but he took a step back. her heart clenched and she wiped her tears and locked eyes with him again. “ I don't want to lose you too.” Aramide begged. “please forgive me,” She said as she stared at Angel with longing in her eyes.

"Nah, I know a few who hate it." Arima widened her eyes at me. "Eh? How can anyone hate basil pesto?! If they do it probably wasn't made properly..." I ignored her. "It's okay to have special tastes, that's what I love about you, Amara. You're so cool." Amara's mouth slowly opened at me, but then she just huffed. "Seriously, what's with you today?" "Ummm..." Arima-san spoke up. We both looked to her.