Men Reading Books Novels & Stories

he says, his hands behind his head. "Oh come on, you have to do something when you're not working." I say. "No, I really don't." he says back. "Well what do you like to do, in general?" "Smoke. Drink. Cook, sometimes. Sleep, though I barely do that anyway." "Hm. Boring." I say, jokingly. "Yeah, like sitting around sleeping all day and reading is any fun." he says, a small smile on his face. "Reading is good for the mind. Here, let me give you a book." "Oh god no." he complains.

He took a discreet glance at the clock and decided to spend some time in grandfather's library. Ivan smiled at the familiar smell of books. Easton loved reading and had so many collection of books. He picked out a colourful business pamphlet from the drawer and glanced at it. It looked interesting so he walked away with it, hoping to read it in his room as a way to pass time. He opened the door and looked around his room. Everything was in place but there was a figure on his bed!

But Dominic was there. Leaning against the headboard like he owned not just the bed but the very air around it. Shirtless, all lean muscle and dangerous shadows, his legs crossed beneath the duvet like he was settling in for the long haul. He was reading a book—some thick tome about international finance—like this was the most natural thing in the world. I stopped dead in my tracks. "What the hell are you doing?" He didn't look up from his book, but I caught the slight curve of his lips. "Reading."

In the office, Logan was sitting on his chair while swivelling his chair along with his body. The lamp that was placed on the study table was lighting the pages of the book that he was reading and many unread books were dangling on the edge of the table waiting to be read. With his elbow resting on the surface of the table and his fingers turning the pages of the book that he was reading.

I took it and sipped it a little bit. My eyes landed on the book that he's holding. He's reading my book? I turned to him completely shocked for a few seconds and I turned my attention to my coffee again. "You said you love reading right?" He asked. "I'm an editor, how can I not read?" I hissed coldly. "I recommend you to read this book. I bet you will change your mind about your perspective of men." He said as he put my own book in front of me. "I'm not interested." I said.

The more he read the passages, the more he sensed the goodwill of the author towards the natives. The man who entered the book shop stopped by Lin and reached out for the thick book on the second row of the book shelf, but after a few minutes, the man put it back on the shelf. That time, Lin heard the man asking, “Do you have the book by Fielding Hall?” Lin noticed that the man was in his mid forty, wearing thick rimmed glasses, with curly hair. The man wore a short sleeve blue shirt and a pair of jean pants. The man was also carrying a thick book under one’s arm. It seemed like that the man was a bookworm.

He just flipped his thick scientific books and started to read seriously. I stopped and stared at him a bit. When he’s mad, his face is shouting of handsomeness, when he’s smiling or laughing my world is in a slow motion, and when he’s serious like this…my heart is literally jumping up and down. I swallowed hard and looked away to stop myself from staring too much. I looked at the book I am holding, and my lips parted when I saw that it was a men magazine! What the hell?! I immediately stood up and I heard Ronald chuckling! I glared at him, and he noticed it.

I was hoping that he didn’t have to go back to work so quickly, but I know his work is important, vital to the man I love and I wouldn’t want to ever change that. So, I settle in to make some coffee and skim my fingers over the bookshelves lining the walls in the spacious living room. I’ve never seen Gavin with a book in his hand and it surprises me that he has such a large collection. Charles Dickens, Ray Donovan, Marie Barnes, Nicholas Sparks, the authors range from one genre to another and somehow I know that most of these couldn’t be Gavin’s. I couldn’t imagine him reading a full length novel like Great Expectations. He thrives on action, solving problems, making strides in whatever he i

Since it was Saturday, people were huddled in the corners, queuing up at the reception to borrow books and running their hands through the cracked spines of various books. I kept down my stack and started sorting them out with different categories. He was whistling as he followed suit, commenting on a few of the erotic and romance literature, making me give him a deadpan stare. He was twenty-four but acted like a horny teenager most of the time. “What? Why are you acting like you have never read stuff like this or watched p**n?” I remained silent, going through the books. He slammed a book down, making me wince, and turned me around to face him, his hands on my shoulders.

The pleasant scent of old, crisp book pages was calming and relaxing. I had always loved reading, and that made me wonder why a man like Maximo had a well-maintained library in his home. With his dark tattoos, wild eyes, scars and scruffy ways, he definitely didn’t seem to be the type who would have much interest in spending his leisure time reading old books. And yet, he had a rather fine collection of books with a well-maintained library.