Cinnamon Cookie Cookie Run Novels & Stories

Tommy simply ignored Isaac and kept leaning over as he took more bites off his cotton candy—Isaac had to scoop him up and tuck him back inside the car. Irene plucked a piece of cotton candy and shoved it at Isaac's mouth then. "You're the only one whose mouth isn't sticky." Isaac did a double take and turned toward Irene. He did not open his mouth, so the white piece of fluff stuck to his chin like a beard. It was a hilarious sight, and Irene could not help laughing. Isaac opened his mouth to slide the cotton candy inside before asking, "Is it really that funny?" Irene nodded fervently, when he suddenly held her head in place, pasting his lips against hers with pinpoint precision!

'If you like, stay here. 'Coco, I want yogurt.' 'Stop calling me that,' he said warningly. I laughed and skipped behind him. 'Ice cold Coco Never did I meet a Guy that so cruel I offered him my jewel But he left me stuck Stranded in alley What a shunning thing To do to Cookie Me, that's Cookie Aileen Carlisle Poor, poor, Cookie Just wanna drink smoothie Coco, won't you find it in your heart To buy it for her How could one man be

Antonio whispered, his breath hot against Marco’s mouth, his eyes filled with lust. He reached down and groped Marcos, eliciting a moan from him. Marco grabbed his shoulders and deepened the kisses As their tongues clashed, Antonio’s whiskey-tinted mouth intoxicated Marco further. The taste of alcohol mixed with his unique sweetness clouded his senses. As Antonio leaned forward, Marco took off his pants and undid the zipper. His face remained poised over him, breathing heavily. Antonio’s cock broke out, huge, veiny and loaded as it rubbed against Marco’s flushed face. Their lips crashed once more–hard, heated, stealing the breath from each other’s lungs.

I settled beside her, close enough to catch the faint scent of her shampoo…something floral and clean that made my pulse quicken despite the domestic tranquility of the moment. "So," I said to Caesar, who was watching me with curious eyes, "what other adventures have this muffin had?" "Oh!" Caesar perked up immediately. "One time he met a cookie who was sad because nobody wanted to eat him!" "Why didn't anyone want to eat the cookie?" I asked, genuinely curious now. "Because he was shaped funny," Caesar explained with the gravity of someone sharing state secrets. "Like a squiggly line instead of a circle." "That's terrible," I said seriously. "What did the muffin do?"

Once outside, they ran back to their house and the other box of cookies. They rushed in, followed by Murphy, to find Cookie trying to get to the box behind his wife. With their dad encouraging them, the girls grabbed the cookies and ran to their playroom upstairs. “Not fair!” Cookie laughed as he followed them upstairs. The other adults could hear him stomping down the hall. “Fee, fie, foe, fum! I smell those cookies! Gonna get me some!” There were lots of laughs and happy squeals coming from upstairs. “You married him.” Pagan teased.

Then, there is a shift in the air. The moon begins to ascend into the sky, climbing higher and higher signalling the time is near. Co-ordinators of The Run – mated wolves whose job is to keep us safe – climb onto the cages keeping the problem females captive. They are waiting for the gun shot to release us. Thankfully, the wind is blowing softly from behind us. I could not get any luckier with nature on my side. With my scent blowing away from the males and deep into the forest, I will be able to get away quickly and find a hiding spot that hopefully has gear or food for me to take. With a grin, I slowly climb to my feet and lazily stretch, preparing my body to run because my life depends on

Running across the sand. Fair. With Adrian's shoe in his mouth. Reasonable. Proudly. God. Very proudly. Fair. Like he'd hunted it himself. Reasonable honestly. Then the chase began. God. Cookie ran. Fair. Adrian ran. Reasonable. Peanut ran. God. Then everybody else ran too. Fair. The entire beach. Reasonable honestly. Then Cookie turned it into a game. God. The worst possible outcome. Fair. Because puppies love games. Reasonable.

He tells her. She lets out a squeal and does a little dance in her seat. I call it her happy food dance. I look around, and everyone is smiling at her. There is a sealed dish on her tray with something in it. She squeals again when she opens it. There are four large cookies with some type of cream in the middle. Nate asks Ms Amy what they are. I know for a fact that Ms Amy has just made a new best friend. The cookies themselves are chocolate mocha with raspberry almond cream filling. She pops the top back on and starts eating. I hear a growl, and we look over. Tyler is trying to get himself a cookie.

“You’ll be in charge of cookies.” I pause. “Wait—what?” She jots something down on her clipboard. “We need someone to handle cookies for the sale. You’ll be responsible for providing at least fifteen dozen.” I sit up. “Fifteen dozen?” “That’s the minimum,” another mom chimes in. I blink. “That’s… 180 cookies.” Carol nods. “Exactly.” I let out a slow breath. “Okay, so like… we buy them, right?” The room goes silent.

'Any idea how much further? 'A ways,' he muttered, pushing harder. Rose and Trevor were struggling to keep up. Twenty more minutes of hard, hard running, and Adair skidded to a halt. The smell of lilac and pine had to be her; it was only getting stronger. 'She’s in trouble.' Adair was furious and antsy. 'Then go!' I encouraged him. He leapt off into a run again. 'Be ready guys,' I said to the others. 'We have company.'