Hannah Montoya Feet Novels & Stories

A girl? Ethan Barker deserved to be beaten half to death. Hannah took a step back, then spun her body with her left foot as the pivot while her right leg followed the rotation of her hips. Her right leg swung freely. Her gaze locked onto Ethan’s head. In a split second, her shoe landed squarely on his face. Ethan, unable to dodge in time, staggered before collapsing onto the concrete floor. Hannah grabbed his wallet, emptied the cash from inside, then shoved it back into Ethan’s pants pocket.

Who wouldn’t? Cayson Montemayor clearly belonged with a woman who matched his aesthetic; a tall, statuesque goddess with flawless skin, glossy hair, and zero body fat. Basically, someone who wasn’t her. She was still chewing on that lovely realization when he suddenly turned and caught her staring. Busted. She panicked and jammed a spoonful of crème caramel into her mouth like it was a perfectly normal thing to do mid-eye contact, then quickly looked away before she did something even more embarrassing. Like sigh. Or drool.

“Linda? It’s Hannah. May I come in?” Her voice was smooth and low, like warm honey. “Yes, come in,” I called, trying to sound casual. She entered, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. Hannah was breathtaking early thirties, graceful like a dancer with an easy confidence that filled the room. Her fair smooth white skin glowed softly under the warm lights, flawless and radiant. Long dark curls were tied back in a loose bun, a few strands framing her face. Those deep expressive eyes locked onto mine with genuine interest, and her full lips curved into a gentle, reassuring smile. She wore simple scrubs that hugged her figure just enough to hint at strength and femininity.

I remove my heels and hiss when I see my red bruised toes. "Fucking heels," I whisper to myself. The door opens and Mona walks in. "Hey you," she says. "Hey you back." She takes a seat on my bed and watches me intently. Her features a mirror of my own. "Why did you leave early?" "I-i just got tired,my feet were killing me." Her gaze moves to my toes. "Come on,let me take a look at those." She grabs a kit and brings out some ointment,I place my feet on her laps and she applies it on my toes,then gently massages them.

“I just saved you from hugging Hannah Miller. You’re welcome.” Fiero turned back to the movie. “I wasn’t going to hug her.” Mika snorted. “Jealousy looks good on you, Joy.” “Shut up,” Joy muttered. Meanwhile, Hannah had recovered. She flipped her hair and launched into a monologue about her achievements: student council, debate team, her unique vision for House Six. None of it mattered. Moses lifted his headphones back on with a grunt. Miriam opened her book. Closed it again. Gave up.

The thought weighed heavily on my heart and made me want to shed tears. “Hey,” Hannah turned me to face her. “She’s fine. Don’t worry too much. You’re going to get old quickly if you keep this up.” “She could have been lying dead when I walked in.” I swallowed saliva. “What would I have done?” Hannah ran her hand up and down my back, hoping to comfort me. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you? She’s fine.” I nodded. At that precise moment, Maya walked out of the room. She sported a black and grey cargo pants and a big, black shirt. Her hair remained in a ponytail.

Hannah had been one of those means to an end sort of things after Mona failed to do what she was fucking ordered to do. She was a nice little bounty that the young alpha fucking pup had failed to see was missing and she had been for the last two weeks. A dear friend of mine was able to snatcher off the border while she was out for a run. She hadn’t been who I wanted but once I saw her nice tits and taut body I said fuck it and kept her to entertain my pack of fucking horndogs who feel the need to fuck like young pups on E.

Training montages are a scam. In films, someone ties their hair back, does three push-ups, punches a bag, runs up some stairs, and emerges ninety seconds later with cheekbones, discipline, and the ability to roundhouse-kick emotional damage into a sunset. Maya gets shin splints. She also gets a bruise on her hip the size of a mango, a blister under her left big toe, and a level of hatred for burpees that feels personal enough to require legal mediation.

And then she’s gone, weaving her way through the crowd. I poke at my food absently. The silence around me is a little too loud now. But before I can relax into the stillness, someone approaches the seat opposite mine. I look up. Hailey Montague. Her shinny honey-blonde hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, her makeup so flawless and glowy, in that clean girl way only girls like her seem to pull off. Her full round lips are peach glossy, wide blue eyes sizing me up with a blink.

Monalisa unable to process the situation grabbed her bag to leave, but on a second thought decided to check them out. She dropped her bag and left for Jayden's room. She came to a halt few inches close to his door, took a deep breath and exhaled before getting closer to his door. Her heart sank and a tear drop fell from her eyes the moment she heard moans from the bedroom. She rushed downstairs and tripped on the stairs and rolled down to the floor. she tried getting up but let out a scream as she felt a sharp pain in her ankle. She reached out to the rail and slowly got on her foot.