Ever Dream This Man Novels & Stories

“Everyone knows that he hates the company. While the first son actually shows interest, the second has been a photographer all his life. The direct opposite of what we do here.” “I don’t get it,” I whispered, more to myself. “No one does. And there is also the fact that he… he is a bloody player. I think he has successfully slept with half the women in the city.” “He has to look like a god.” “He does.” For some reason, I remembered the man from the bus station. Dark hair, dark eyes. He looked like a god, too. I guessed there were many gods roaming around New York. I ended up with one of them. Look where that got me.

“You’re here now. You came to me. That’s… proof that you can choose differently.” He shook his head, the weight of guilt pressing down visibly. “I don’t know if I deserve that… or you.” “You deserve compassion,” I said quietly. “From yourself. From her. From me.” He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair, and let the words sink in. For the first time, I saw him as vulnerable—not the commanding, untouchable Evan Ramos, but the man behind the façade. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted. “How to be… good enough.”

That's what is making all this weird. ....................................................................................... Here's the chapter I promised, please enjoy. And keep supporting "Her Man."

Her skin soft and warm against his, her breath on his chest, her hair smelled of lavender brushed under his chin. "You don't remember anything?" she couldn't imagine what he must've gone through. He shook his head, "I had a dream about it ... I think it was a glimpse of what I saw in that brief time I woke up in that room ..." he rubbed his face to wipe away the nightmare. "I don't want something like that to happen to you ... we can't risk it, your teacher is right, we have to get out of this contract." Charlie paused for a moment, she too had a confession to make. "About my teacher ..."

Love is a key to being a man. Loving yourself will ideally mean that you can love anyone else who is external of you. I believe that a person who cares for self has an ability of caring for the next person as well . The reason that you understand why you can't just let yourself go without a coke or any kind of drink will definitely mean that you can share with an extra person. Good fathers are good man , they understand where they are coming from and will work for their children not to take the same path of life as they took in their process of life. Desperation is a process but what kind are you desiring your own to walk in?

Another one roared. "Can someone call security?" The others suggested. "Don't worry, ladies. I'll handle this." They all looked satisfied when a man walked towards Marionne. He looked like in his mid-40s, yet still, look formidable and elegant. "I know you, Marionne, right?" Marianne felt like he was showered with ice-cold water. The man in front of him was the father of Ava. "Uhm—yes—yes, sir." He struggled to answer.

“My name is Domenico, and I’m your new god. If I tell you to speak, you speak. If I tell you to suck my cock, you do it. Otherwise there are nasty consequences.” “S-suck what?” I asked as I swallowed. Had I heard him right? I begged myself to wake up, to free myself from this strange dream, but the cold seeping into my bones and the grit digging into my palms told me it was no dream. It was a living nightmare. He grabbed his crotch and dragged his hand along the visible ridge. His lip tugged up and due to the light, his expression was sinister. It sent a splash of cold through me and sent my mind racing.

the second man added and they all laughed. "Wait, you guys are here expressing your lust and we're all forgetting one man," one of the men said. His heart cringed as he heard those words and a slow grin appeared on his lips as he turned to the direction of the men in suits who were all turning to his direction. "Amos!! Aka, Africa's number one Casanova!!" They hailed and he burst into laughter. "Guy is in Dreamland already," one of the men teased and they burst into laughter.

I nodded shakily, unsure of what all meant, but knowing that somehow, he was here. Different from the Talon I dreamed up. He was not the manifestation of a bite. “You summoned me to this world. Into this dream,” He said, stopping every thought in my head with his words but leaving just one question burning bright. Just who is this man and how is he capable of entering dreams?

"You let him drive your car. You even have matching pendants on your keychains. Don't you think you owe me an explanation?" Her expression shifted, but then, she laughed mockingly. "An explanation? You're getting this paranoid over a cup of coffee?" Her eyes flickered as she continued, "He's just a barista at the coffee shop. Nothing is happening. Are you happy now?" She snatched her coat from the sofa, pausing just long enough to deliver a final blow. "At least he has a real job. Unlike you, sitting around the house doing nothing all day." The front door slammed shut with a force that made my chest physically ache. Her words echoed relentlessly in my mind.