Diego X Hot Pants Novels & Stories

She was always complaining, slowing everyone down. Jack, on the other hand, seemed to have endless patience and indulgence for her. "Alright. Let's see what's so heavy." He stopped the group, knelt, and opened Dakota's backpack himself. In front of everyone, she carefully pulled out her precious belongings, as if presenting a prized collection. There was a full set of luxury travel-sized skincare, a nearly unused oversized power bank, chips in every flavor, jelly, sour belts… and a heavy jar of peanut butter.

“He doesn’t bring work home.” Her pulse shifted. “That sounds healthy.” “He doesn’t bring anything home.” Ariana didn’t respond. Because she didn’t trust herself to. Diego watched her for a moment longer. Then said quietly— “He came to the club last night.” Her breath caught. Just slightly. But enough. Diego saw it. Of course he did. “He never does that,” Diego continued. “I didn’t see him there,” Ariana said. Another lie. Smooth. Controlled. Practiced already.

But even those friends couldn't—or wouldn't—give her any information about him. She knew his name. Gabriel Peralta. That was it—if that was even his real name. She also knew he was six foot four of lean hard muscle with thick silken black hair she loved to run her fingers through, a hawk nose and eyes like onyx. Hands that could make a woman's body writhe in pleasure and a magnificent cock that stretched her to capacity and made her explode with its friction. And scars whose origin he refused to discuss.

Xavier asked, his voice so cold, it sent chills creeping down Diego's spine. “Motherfucker…! What did you do to my wife and kids?!” Diego, Andre's assistant, asked in a loud but shaky voice. “Oh, you will find out once I'm done with you,” Xavier said menacingly. “You devil, you wouldn't know when you got hit…” Diego was saying when Xavier shook his head, waving his index finger at him, an indication for Diego to shut up. “No, no, no,” Xavier said, taking his hand, and with the plier, he pulled out Diego's thumbnail.

Diego looked up at him, his gaze calm but deadly. "C'mon, boy, people are watching! Your little girl will be disappointed if you back down." "Oh my God, is he crazy? Does he know who he is talking to?" a girl whispered to her friend. "Who is the hot guy, though?" her friend asked. The girl whispered something in her ear, and she gasped. The guy before Diego pulled down his shirt, revealing his abs and muscles... he's not bad, though. Diego smirked... it was devilish. Well, this will be fun.

The scent of sandalwood and leather is stronger now, more enveloping. The door closes. The sound of the lock sliding into place is terrifying. Final. He turns toward me. His gaze travels slowly over my body, from my sweater down to my boots, then returns to my eyes. “Show me.” Two words. An order. I know immediately what he wants to see. My fingers are numb, clumsy. I unfasten my jeans and let them slide down my hips until they fall at my ankles. I remain there, in a black pair of panties and my sweater, exposing the mark on my pale hip.

And she couldn't fathom why she felt that way just by looking at him. Though she was reluctant to acknowledge it, Freya couldn't help but appreciate the sight of Diego in a more relaxed attire, a departure from his usual formal suit and tie. He wore a fitted short-sleeve t-shirt that showcased his chiseled chest and defined arm muscles, paired with grey sweatpants which slung low on his hips, showcasing his lean waist and drawing her attention to the subtle V-shape of his torso, a sight that left her breathless and wondering how she had ever thought of him as just a stuffy businessman.

“Alex has no fucking idea his best friend is my personal cum dump.” “Fuck, Diego… please,” I begged, palming his thick cock through his sweatpants. It was rock hard already, leaking. He spun me around, yanking my shorts to my ankles. No prep beyond the spit he added quickly. He thrust in raw and deep, bottoming out in one brutal stroke. I cried out, the stretch burning so perfectly. Diego didn’t hold back. He pounded me right there in the hallway, hips slapping loud against my ass, one hand muffling my moans.

Between the sweatpants that didn't actually belong to Xavier, and getting chewed out by Damien, he was barely holding on "Grab my damn lip balm!" Damien sniffled when he saw his chapstick roll off the table and land next to Xavier's feet. Theo watched Xavier bend over to pick up the chapstick and he lost it. His knees buckled as he fell to the ground laughing. Theo's sweatpants on his incredibly large Alpha were so tight, they were riding up his ass crack, and he saw the perfect outline of his balls and cock. The sweatpants were hugging him so tight, he was surprised they were not choking him. Not to mention the bottom hangs just below his knees.

After a moment, it opened, and Xander stood in front of me with just a pair of low-hanging sleep pants on. His chest was entirely bare, showing off his chiseled body and those fucking tattoos that I loved so damn much. A few were some sort of tribal design, and it made him look even sexier. There was also some with sayings and names. If I thought he was ripped with a shirt on, it paled in comparison to this. There was a light brown trail of hair from his navel downwards into the top of his sweatpants. His Adonis belt was so defined that I wanted to run my fingers across it to see where it led.