Novelas y relatos de Men Reading Books

Richard sucked on his cigar strongly. Smoke after smoke, he exhaled from his nose and mouth. Occasionally his hands would flip through the book he was reading, and his green eyes seemed to read every word arranged in the book seriously. His forehead wrinkled, indicating he was absorbing the storyline in the book. "How long are you going to read that book, Boss?" SB, who sat in front of Richard with his arms crossed on the head of the chair, made his behavior look like a child.

He sat and he looked at the room. Two people at tables. One with a laptop. One with a book — the actual physical book, the open spine resting at the reading angle, the person's head bent at the concentration. A child in the corner, age perhaps seven, reading what appeared to be a graphic novel, the images large and the text secondary, the child absorbed in the same quality of sustained reading that the fourteen-degree chair had been specified to enable. He looked at the child.

They clinked glasses to that. They started eating while discussing books they've read, their favorite authors, movie adaptations, and everything else other than their tragic love life. After dinner, they sat in the living room area with their book of choice, and spend comfortable silence together. Commenting on what they were reading once in a while, and went back to it right after. He really did read a romance novel. He read only selected few, he said. But nonetheless, he was reading it. Julie never came across a guy who reads as much as she does, a romance novel especially.

Heading to the library alone, I feel sadder the more I am getting nearer to my destination. “I don’t like this.” I mumble while pouting my lips. Airo isn’t here today so I took the book he always reads. It’s my time to fill my head with some useful information about this so-called parallel universe. I spend the rest of my time reading it even though most of it seems impossible to understand. I could get a nosebleed with this out of the world’s words. Closing the book, I just notice a man in all poker glaring at me.

After that, he waited for his two friends to come his place and suddenly opened several yellow books containing English sentences and accents that he did not recognize. Until he stopped reading the fourth books, his friend didn't come here. Immediately, he asked the guard for permission to borrow this book which he luckily allowed. He also started to come out of the library and saw 2 people near the lush trees talking seriously. Jimmy walked up to the two men and caught a man's shoulder in his trademark leather jacket. The man turned around and frowned at Jimmy who could do multistalking. One hand holds several books while the other catches the shoulder. Another man turned around and imm

He dropped his hand reluctantly and let me go; I gave him a small reassuring smile and headed to the door to see who was there. “We are closed, sirs,” I said with a weak smile to the three bulky men who were looking around suspiciously. “Oh, I see. Did a man come here, or did you see him pass by?” the tallest one asked. “This is a library, sir; a lot of men come here to read books.” “This one is no ordinary man. Well built, 6.5 foot, tan skin, dark hair, amber eyes, stabbed, bleeding,” He said, smirking.

The Alaskan king bed was enormous, but I was done being shocked by it. His naked chest was so appetizing. Watching him stir undeniable hunger somewhere deep within me. Both of them go to bed only in their boxers. He was holding a book in his hand. Why did he look so good with his reading glasses perched on his nose? The glasses gave him that stern look. He was irresistible.

Help yourself to one of those. ‘You mean read?’ ‘That is what people usually do with books.’ With a short sigh of impatience, Theodore wandered over to examine the neat rows of titles which lined an entire wall of her sitting room. The only things he ever read were financial papers or contracts, or business-related articles he caught up with when he was travelling. Occasionally his attention would be caught by some glossy car magazine, which would lure him into changing his latest model for something even more powerful. But he never read books. He had neither the time nor the inclination to lose himself in the world of fiction. He remembered that stupid story he’d read at school—about some a

His head is bent over a book, his brows furrowed in total concentration. I smile at the sight of him. I’ll be honest. I am pleasantly surprised to know that this new guy, with the piercings and the shredded black T-shirts is a core nerd. He doesn’t look the part but it’s evident in the way he speaks— this is a guy that reads and takes his grades seriously. He might not be a jock but I have to admit that Rowan is cool. I walk up to him and set my bag on the desk. He’s so immersed in his book, he doesn’t even hear me come up to him. I’m curious to know what he’s reading. The book has one of those blank covers without a title.

Then he tilted his head slightly, still holding me effortlessly against the wall. “And why not?” he asked calmly, his voice dropping just a little. “You’re reading it.” “I’m not— I mean— it’s just a book—” I rushed out, flustered now. But he didn’t look convinced. Instead, his gaze flicked back to the page again. “You read about men like this,” he said slowly. “Men who don’t hesitate. Men who take what they want without asking.” My breathing tightened. “That’s not—” “And you enjoy it,” he finished quietly.