Marty Deeks Novelas e Histórias

After half an hour, I finally arrived at the mall, ready for some shopping. Stepping out of the car, I gazed at the magnificent entrance. Perhaps, once Sierra became Luna, I would bring her here and let her choose whatever her heart desired. Just as I was about to enter the mall, I froze upon hearing a familiar voice—a voice I had hoped never to hear again. "Hey, Dean, old friend, it's been a while." I turned around and came face to face with Drake. He hadn't changed a bit. His dark blue eyes and gray hair intrigued me, as I wondered about his fondness for that color.

I hadn’t realized how much people who weren’t financially stable were treated badly until I joined the club. Derek was nowhere near as nice as the receptionist. He was judging me off the clothes I was wearing. They weren’t designer and they were a little bit faded. I still had some designer clothes from my old life but they barely fit me anymore. I had grown too small and thin for them. Putting food on the table was a problem in itself. It wasn’t common for me to miss meals. “Where did Markos find this filthy girl?” He grumbled under his breath, not caring that I heard every word.

Jackie sneered. “I just want to get my hands on those lovely shoulders. You know, as pissed as I am about you setting me up in Phoenix, I still want to fuck your brains out. Hell, let’s have one of Garvey’s famous orgy sessions, right here. I’m getting tired of waiting for Kirby.” “Go to hell,” Jackie spewed. “It’s the mustache, isn’t it? You don’t like it,” Marty said nonchalantly. Matt had heard enough. He stood up and rounded the doorway and cocked his gun. He pointed it right at Marty. “I have to admit, you look damn good, Marty, but I don’t think the lady is interested.”

He bore left through the valley of the slots and passed beneath Orion and Gemini on his way to Ursus Major, the Great Bear, where the high-stakes blackjack room beckoned. There were a half-dozen $5,000 tables to choose from, and he picked the one where Marty, one of his favorite deal- ers, was working. Marty was a New Jersey transplant, his wavy brown hair pulled back into a neat little ponytail. Marty's eyes lit up when he saw him approaching. "Hey, Mt.

She read the plaque that revealed it was a kukri, gifted from the Nepalese to a Sgt Maddox. Sgt Maddox? She frowned at the name. It was a common name, right? She glanced over at the picture on the wall, a group of brawny uniformed men stared back at her, their faces beaming with pride. She traced her finger over the names at the bottom of the picture, finding the same name. Only this time, it was slightly different, the label read Sgt Zachary Maddox. She followed the position of names, matching it up to Archer’s face. Cara ran to the next picture she found down the hallway, a single photo of him stood to attention in his uniform, the badge on his chest read ‘Maddox’.

He moaned into my mouth, and I looked down to see that Marty had wrapped his other fist around Tommy's dick and was giving him a hand-job along with his blowjob while he jerked-off his own dick. "'Oh, fuck, Marty!" I said, "That is so hot! My fucking pussy is dripping just watching you!'

I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, as if my name meant something to him. “I’m Elijah.” The name sent a ripple of recognition through me, but I couldn’t place it. It felt familiar, like something I should know, but in my haze of alcohol and pain, I couldn’t grasp it. “You’re a Beta’s mate, aren’t you?” His question was soft, but it cut through me like a knife. I stiffened, my grip tightening around the glass. “How do you know that?”

She slowly started to walk toward the man so that Annie could catch up. “Mr. Vega, I’m Deputy Huggins, and this is Sheriff Gold. How may we help you today?” Annie asked him. “Deputy, Sheriff, please call me Marty. I am sorry for bothering y’all today, but this is the craziest thing I have ever seen, and I didn’t know what else to do,” Mr. Vega told them, shaking his head as he looked at the ground. “That’s alright, Marty. That is what we are here for,” Annie told him. “Can you tell us what happened?”

The uncertainty made me sad once more. I turned away from the window and glanced around the small one-bedroom cabin. It wasn’t built for two people; it barely had enough space for one. That raised a question—where did he sleep? The thought unsettled me. Then, as if summoned by my curiosity, I saw him through the window. Keiran Ackerman, the Gamma of the Blood Moon Pack, he was walking toward the cabin with a dead deer slung over his broad shoulders. His movements were effortless, his body moving with a lethal grace that only trained killers possessed.

I head in and take our normal spot at the end of the bar. Marty, the owner, waves at me as he’s friendly and loves paying customers. He doesn't give a shit if you are human or supernatural. If you put money into his business, he doesn't care what you are. Marty pours me my regular order of two shots of whisky. It’s my usual before Liam gets here. Once Liam gets here, I drink beer because that’s what Liam loves. There is this myth that supernaturals can hold their liquor better than humans. That’s total bullshit. Liam can’t hold his liquor, as I learned this at a party once with him. Never again will I do shots with him.