Good Men Don T Need Rules Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Yes, my way. Now, listen.” “Okay. All ears.” He lays his back on the couch and placed his legs up above the the couch, folding his arms. His socked feet were almost brushing my body. “Rule number one, this is fake.” “Yeah. I never said it was real.” “Let me finish. I mean fake fake, no romance, no intimacy. No flirting, no touching. Unless handshakes for agreement or formal hugs for filming.” I looked at his face and he was grinning. “What? This isn't funny.”

Greer said, looking around. “Thanks. Want something to drink?” “I want to know the rules,” Luca said. “What are we doing here? What do you want?” Direct. I appreciated that. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “This isn’t something I’ve done before.” “None of us have,” Kit said. “But we want to try. If you do.” I looked at them. Really looked. Three beautiful men, all watching me with want in their eyes. “Ground rules,” I said. “We communicate. If something doesn’t feel right, we stop. No pressure. No expectations.”

Without thinking, I snort, and say, “Well, that’s never going to happen. No matter what you do or where you go, there will always be bad people.” “Not. Here,” Johnathan says, biting off every word. “Here, everyone follows the rules or I banish them. It’s very simple.” “Well-” “Well, nothing. The rules are the rules. Follow them or leave.” “Do you follow the rules?” I ask. “Yes. I lead by example, and so will you.” “I don’t know what the rules are.” “You’ll learn.”

“Classic Mom.” “You’re twenty, Ivy,” she said tightly. “You’re not cute. You’re not interesting. You’re a liability.” “Wow,” I said. “Touching.” “If you want to stay in this house, there will be rules.” “Oh, I can’t wait.” Her eyes sharpened. “Don’t bring boys here. Don’t sneak out. No parties. No mess. No drama.” “So I should probably stop talking to you?” “I swear to God—” “I’m joking,” I said, tossing my keys into the glass bowl on the console. “Mostly.”

I am not kidding. He and his friends are the biggest troublemakers on campus. They play with people’s feelings and never consider the consequences. But the part I cannot understand is why everyone still loves them. They act like they are gods. Sure, I admit they are ridiculously handsome. But their personalities? Trash. No offense, that is the truth. Girls chase them around, practically drooling. It is absurd. They are blinded by looks and ignore their terrible personalities. I don’t mind them as long as they stay out of my business.

Why would I suddenly run for no fucking reason… “So in case you’re thinking of trying anything…” he threatened, “just remember that we don’t play with what is ours…” What was it with these men and claiming ownership over me?! “And we’re done playing nice.” I almost laughed, here I was… expecting an apology. Instead he had to spit out trash. “Henceforth, there’ll be rules,” he continued, “rules that you must follow little Goldie.” Unable to stop myself, I said, “And if I don’t…”

“Christian told me. Everyone tells me. It’s not new.” She blinks, slightly taken aback, before holding out a crisp set of stapled papers. “Right. Well... here are the rules. Mr. Christian likes things—” “Rules?” I didn’t—wait. Now that I remember it, I actually heard Christian talking about rules, though I didn’t pay attention because... that shit in front of him didn’t let me. I grab the papers quickly, my eyes scanning the top line before I even process the rest. Do not leave the estate without permission. Curfew: 9:00 p.m. Phone on at all times. Never go to the top floor. No visitors. Don't this, don't that, don't, don't, don't...

Roman put the date on both our calendars before I'd even finished my coffee, complete with a title, Rule One Compliance, which I told him defeated the entire spirit of the rule. "The rule doesn't specify a tone," he said, entirely unbothered, and refused to tell me where we were going, only that I should wear something comfortable and not ask questions he had no intention of answering.

Marcus walked to the far edge, putting distance between us, his back to me. "This is your last chance to walk away," he said without turning around. "Once we cross this line, we can't uncross it. You understand that?" "I understand." "Do you?" He finally turned, and the raw need on his face made my breath catch. "Because I need you to be sure, Jake. I need you to be absolutely certain this is what you want. Because if we do this – if I touch you – I won't be gentle. I won't hold back. I've been holding back for too long."

I said. “Rules? What type of rules are you talking about?” “Okay… Let's do this. We'll both take turns making rules that will bind this thing we are doing. Rules that will protect our plan and also be important to us somehow. Rules like dos and don'ts.” A look of understanding crossed his face, followed by his mouth forming an O. He blinked owlishly before nodding and motioning for me to go on ahead. “Rule number one; You must put an end to your constant partying and womanizing.”