Chris Miles Skins Novels & Stories

“First off, you fuck with the band, you fuck with me. And nobody fucks with me.” I looked at Derek with more than a little trepidation. “Miles is like a Great White shark in a suit,” Derek explained. “Except he’s our Great White.” “Not the band, I’m assuming,” I said, trying for a little joke about the 80’s metal group. Derek caught it and grinned. “No. He’d have longer hair if that were the case.” “A great BLACK shark, an’ don’t you forget it,” Miles said to me. “You fuck with this band, I’ll bury you. You fuck with their music? I’ll bury you. You fuck with their schedule? I’ll – ”

Miles turned to me, his expression softening for half a second before his jaw clenched again. “Where the fuck is Chris?” he muttered under his breath. Then he stormed toward me and grabbed my face, his grip rough. “Cheryl,” he gritted out. “You should have smashed his head with your glass. Not begged.” I pulled away from him. “It was my fault,” I muttered, wiping my face. “I asked him if he’d like to fuck me.” Miles froze. “Why?” His voice was low, bewildered. I scoffed, grabbing my phone. “Take a wild guess.”

Chris looked like a walking mood board—wearing a neon-cobalt silk bowling shirt left open over a ribbed tank, geometric retro sunglasses perched on his nose, and a pair of customized white skates with glowing marigold wheels already on his feet. ​"Darlings!" Chris purred, throwing his hands up dramatically. His eyes instantly zipped to Malik, scanning him from head to toe with an analytical, high-fashion glare. "Okay, fine. The bone structure is real, the silver chain is acceptable, and the graphic tee is proportional. Kelsey, honey, you are dismissed from my aesthetic tribunal. He passes." ​Malik raised an eyebrow, a genuinely amused grin breaking across his face as he extended a hand. "Mal

Miles feels pre-cum leak into his underwear just watching the handsome Omega walk away. Miles walks out of the hall, holding his study notes right in front of his pants to hide the big bump. He walks up the dark stairs to the Silverclaw Council Chamber so he does not get stuck with anyone. He gets inside, locks the Secured Moon Gate fast, and unbuttons his pants. He sits on his chair and pulls out his big, hard, aching wolf cock.

"They will be participating in the trials and battle. They will not get any special treatment during the ceremony. During the battle you will be allowed to injure them, if you can." Christopher Miles was another unexpected variable in this shi.t show. He was a larger man, tall with well toned muscles. He seemed a bit younger than Sebastian which worried me more, because that meant he got his position at a young age. He must be powerful and very talented to become an elder at an earlier age.

“But what we don’t know is who all of you are.” “A’ight, well, the name’s Miles Wiley. I’m an engineer,” Spoke up a broad-shouldered, bald, black man slouching in a chair. His voice was deep and rough, unlike his face which looked calm and inviting. His nose was slightly wider than normal and crooked, but he used that as a way to break the ice talking to new people. “I used to, uhh, play baseball and caught a fastball right to the face.” He clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth to make a noise similar to a ball being hit. “Hitter thought he had a home run and well, he threw his bat backward and that was it.” He laughed as he motioned his fist hitting his nose “Twice to the nose.” He fin

As Chris dragged his fingers downward, the skin across his chest slowly split open to either side. Dominic’s scalp went numb. “What the hell?!” At his horrified shout, Chris merely shot him a cool glance. Dominic instantly felt like his intelligence had just been insulted. Chris peeled the fake “skin” off his body and tossed it onto the bed beside him. Then he pulled his clothes back on. His real chest underneath was lean and hard, without a drop of blood or a single wound. Still rattled, Dominic walked over and picked up the muscle suit from the bed. It felt almost identical to real human skin and muscle, both in texture and color. He stared at it in disbelief.

Miles had to wait a little longer to arrange the room and have it locked. ******************** "What the hell!!*Miles shouted. His friend's bride was his daughter Kelly's mother, Michelle. This was what Chris wanted to tell him. Michelle was actually Chris' girlfriend. Chris told Miles he had a girlfriend named Michelle but they never met. Kelly is actually Chris' daughter. When Michelle and Miles met, she was already pregnant. Chris was not ready so he avoided her till she met Miles. Miles thought that was his child all this while. Chris went back to Michelle six months later. Kelly knows Chris is her real dad. She had spent more time with him unlike Miles who just flew in months ago. Chris

If I kept them on, however, there was still hope, for now. Miles took a tiny, careful sip of his hot chocolate. I imagined that it would still be far too hot to drink comfortably, but the warmth of it seemed to soothe him. His pale skin was beginning to get some colour back in it, but it did not deter from the black, purple, blue, and yellow bruises along his knuckles, jaw, and frail legs. “I – I don’t know how long it’s been,” he began, his voice quiet but just loud enough to hear. Without our wolf hearing, I doubted that I’d be able to understand his words through his mumbling.

“I am Miles, the Delta of the Still Moon Pack.” That explained his aura. He was 6 feet tall with a lean build refined by countless years spent as a warrior and an enforcer. He had short, shiny black hair, a chiseled face, and tanned skin. “Thanks for lending a hand. You arrived just as we were losing out,” Miles said, though his expression was anything but thankful. He watched me guardedly, but I couldn’t understand why he was so wary. “I’m happy to help. A threat to one is a threat to all,” I said as my eyes strayed back to my mate.