Novelas y relatos de Heat Ink Sans Sin

“You definitely know you don’t need some tequila shots before you can ride me to hell and back,” Jack said while dropping the shot on the table. It was in a small but cute white cup transparent and clear enough for me to see the fluid I had gulped down a few minutes ago. “Fuck, it’s hot as ever,” I muttered. It burnt down my throat while I jiggled it and swallowed it lightly. I looked at it while I maintained my composure. “I mixed it with some gin,” Jack confessed while he laughed at me, seeing the way I had squeezed my face like that of an old lady.

she says in a scolding way. “Nope. You came to get a tan; I can't afford that luxury.” “Why?” “Because unlike you, no matter how hard I try I'll never get a nice caramel color on my skin but a horrible shrimp shade of red, besides I don't want to spend the next three days locked up in the room because of the fever I'll get if I get a sunburn, so I'd rather be safe than sorry.” I continue to put the protective cream on my skin when suddenly I hear my friend speak again.

The heavy silver fountain pen felt weighted, like an anchor dragging her down into a lawless abyss. Agnes stared at the parchment laid out on the metal examination tray. The ink pooling at the nib wasn't standard black; it was a dark, iridescent crimson—synthetic blood-ink designed by the High Council to bind a fighter’s bio-metrics directly to a syndicate’s ledger. If she pressed her thumb to the glowing blue seal, Rhys Stormfang would legally own her athletic, professional, and public life for the next three hundred and sixty-five days. Her freedom would be liquidated to settle a ghost debt.

“Being gay is who you are, and you can not erase it. You need to stop hiding behind those baggy clothes because you absolutely do not need them.” “But, my fathe—” “Well, fuck your father,” he hissed in anger. “You have me now.” A small but amused smile curved my lips at his words. My eyes lowered to his bare but well contoured chest. I bit my lip. “What if people find out? What if it ruins everything at work?” His hands came to my chin, wrapping around it and tilting it upwards. “Let them talk,” he replied. "We work great together at work. They call us ice and fire, remember?” He joked.

His father was not at home but I knew Damien was inside. “What the fuck is going on?” I heard Damien's voice behind me and when I saw him, the already planned lines I had prepared to tell him disappeared from my head completely. I forgot why I was even there. He was sweaty and shirtless, and the whole thing reminded me of the session we had… the way he had held me down with those strong arms as he had pounded orgasm after orgasm out of me. I had been drunk the first time I had seen him but right now, with clear eyes, I could see what a beautiful specimen he was with his broad chest and sculptured torso. His trouser was hanging lowly on his hip and it was driving me crazy.

As what? “This psycho!” I mutter through gritted teeth, unable to form coherent words. I must have gone dumb from anger. “Mr Cassano, get out of my house. Marrying my daughter is impossible, not after your men killed my only son. And most importantly, your money can't move us. If you don't leave now, you won't like my reaction.” He turns silent at this point and looks at me with an expression I can't read. “Your son dying in the hands of the Cassano Vikings was an accident, one I regret deeply. It's worthy of note that since I took over the Cassano empire, we have not done the kind of business I'm sure you're thinking about. We no longer trade illegal goods.”

Chapter 15 The Edges of Silence Leila’s POV --- The note was still in my hand when the clock ticked past midnight. They were just five words….”Don’t trust either of them”, that was all. The handwriting was unmistakable like Damian’s looping script, heavy on the D, the t slashed sharper than it needed to be. I’d seen it on grocery lists, scrawled across envelopes, the margin notes of books he borrowed and never returned even my fingers knew it before my brain did.

He rasped, ignoring that he had frightened the living daylight out of me. "Why?" I asked, still panting. Sin halted in his tracks. I glimpsed a tattoo I hadn't noticed on his back. It was a wolf with the inscription Blue Moon written underneath. It was large and it covered half part of his back. I wonder why I hadn't noticed because he was shirtless earlier. It was because you were busy ogling him! Inner me jeered. I rolled my eyes and gazed back at him. "In as much as I detest you. I don't want to be blamed for your death. Also, you need to do as you are told without questioning me." He grunted, walking away from me.

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” Mr. D then walks towards the corner with a working space. On a rectangular table, there are various coloring materials. He then bends down and picks up a brush on a table. Without glancing at me, he dips into a bowl of red acrylic paint, then sketches the shape of a heart in a blank canvass. While his hand moves deftly in gentle strokes, I notice that he gets himself lost in what he is doing. I feel like he has forgotten that I’m there.

The ink clings to the quill, its viscosity carefully crafted to prevent dispersal in the water. Turning his attention to the kelp paper in front of him, Bryan observes the faint shimmer on its surface. The kelp fibers have been infused with a unique hardening agent, a secret formula known only to the skilled artisans of Tritania. The agent causes the ink to react, triggering a chemical transformation that solidifies the liquid, ensuring that the words he pens will remain intact and readable.