Novel & Cerita Milo Ventimiglia Hot

"I'm actually here to surprise someone, and I'm hoping you'll be a doll and give me the room number for a Ms. Aliyah Delos Santos." "Oh, that would be against hotel policy, Mr. Delgado. I could lose my job if I reveal that information; it's confidential." I lean over the counter, widening my smile at Mandy. I despise it, but I'm not above a little seduction to get what I want. She clearly understands me well from my previous accommodations, and while I'd never ask for such a favor, I'm confident she can accommodate the request.

Milo didn't hesitate. He grabbed his backpack, opened the partition door, and slid into the front passenger seat. The cab was a large sedan, and the front bench was wide, but Milo sat close, his damp thigh pressing against Victor's leg. The heat from the vents washed over them, and the rain on the roof was deafening, sealing them inside their own private world. Milo turned and looked at Victor. Up close, the man was even more striking. His jaw was thick and shadowed with stubble, his brown eyes dark and intense, his broad shoulders filling out the leather jacket. He looked tired and rugged and deeply, undeniably attractive.

Sasha Lane sat in the dimly lit bar, the kind of place where shadows were thicker than the air, nursing a drink she hadn’t touched in an hour. The amber liquid swirled in her glass, but her mind wasn’t on the whiskey. It was on the man sitting across from her. Dominic Knight—billionaire, CEO, and rumored mafia kingpin. He had the kind of face that could make women weak, all sharp angles and dark, dangerous eyes. But Sasha was different. She wasn’t here for pleasure. She was here because she had no choice.

As Milo marched back to the main hall, muttering to himself, he froze halfway. His tablet, left on the coffee table, was glowing. He hadn’t touched it since this morning. He approached it slowly, picking it up. The screen displayed a new anonymous email. –You Looked Beautiful in the Mirror Today. Below it was an image. An image of Milo, standing in his bathroom, shirtless, brushing his teeth. It was obviously taken from outside the window. His blood ran cold. Behind him, Nolan’s voice cut the silence. “What is it?” Milo didn’t turn around. “I think…” he said, voice quiet and tight, “he’s been in my apartment.”

This was the very Milo who ranked first among the ten toughest people! He was the leader of Firebrand Base, a man who was said to have reduced his own base down to nothing but the last few survivors. When he heard Liam's voice, the man in the mask reached up and pulled off the black face cover. A tan, sun-darkened face appeared. Milo's face was lean, with a hint of foreign blood. His features were sharp and rugged, his brows heavy, his nose high and straight, and his eyes a clear amber color. Everything about him looked hard and unbreakable.

“But no one can know about this. Not tomorrow. Not yet.” Still catching her breath, Mila nodded. “I know. But that doesn’t make it any less real.” He brushed a hand along her jawline, thumb grazing her lips. “It is real and risky,” he admitted. “But I want it all the same. I want you… only like this, only with me, only when no one else is watching.” A small, tired smile tugged at her mouth. “Then we’ll handle it,” she whispered. “I trust you.”

Author's POV Vera looked at him shocked. "Who's that girl and why is he carrying her like that?" She looked at Mila confused. "God! What happened here?" Vera frowned when she saw Vomit on the floor. "Gross!" Mila scowled. "Is she sick?" Vera mumbled. "Who is she?" "Fiancee of the Italian Mafia or maybe girlfriend or both..." They both looked at Michelle who was standing there with a cool look plastered on his face.

She smirks, “Wooh, hickeys.” Hickeys? As I hear her, warmth spreads across my face and ears. At once, I look down at myself, trying to see what she saw on my neck, yet I ain’t able to see it. Right, we had a lot of sex during the past few days, Jamie gave me tons of those on my body. Especially on my neck and abdomen, close to my… you know where. Seeing my face and ears turn all reddened, Mila whispers at me, “Are you our boss’s boyfriend?”

A low growl, animal, vibrates in his chest against my back. "Don't move." His voice is hoarse with sleep and use, gravel in the silence. It's not a suggestion. It's an order, even half-asleep. And my body, my traitor body, my body that is no longer really mine, obeys. It relaxes, sinks deeper against him. A wave of heat, different from that of fever or exertion, courses through my lower belly. A damp, disturbing heat. Shameful. Because it's there. Still. The hunger.

Della added. "Yeah, Rodrigo really made me hate sex. He never made me cum and he was always out within ten minutes sometimes he couldn't even make it get up." Mila chuckled. "But God Alfredo makes my body come alive." She smiled widely. Della smiled because she couldn't be any more happier than to see her best friend happy. She wasn't a big fan of Rodrigo but the fact that he was good with kids and didn't mind staying over with Leo while she ran some errands or went shopping with Mila. He was reliable. Mila then told Della everything about how he spanked hernia kissed deer the things he said about wanting her forever.