Muscle Man Novels & Stories

His body crumpled to the ground and he lost consciousness. The last one lunged at me from behind. Big guy with strong arms. Fast, but sloppy enough to hold me tight. We struggled, fists flying, gravel crunching under our boots, I have faced men bigger than him. He landed a blow to my ribs that knocked the air out of me, but I used his momentum, twisting his arm until he screamed in pain. Then I shoved him against the side of the SUV. "Who sent you?" I hissed beside his ear.

three months ago. Our marriage was like a well-acted movie, perfect on the outside, empty on the inside. Cipher D’Amato, billionaire, tech mogul, and coldest man alive. To the world, we were the perfect couple. In reality, I was just his shadow. I pushed the door into his study softly, and there he was as usual, his head over the desk surrounded by documents and folders, while his glowing tablet was still warm to his hand. His curly, dark hair covered his forehead. Even in his sleep, his jaw was still strained as if something was making him angry in his dream.

But the man didn’t react at all as Mike gave me a warning look, then disappeared into the back. The man levered himself onto the same barstool Shauna had taken, bowing forward until his black leather jacket, half-buttoned black silk shirt, and ripped black jeans made him look like a crouching raven: all broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs. Rockstar gaunt, I’d call it—where his height made him look slim but there was no missing the tight sculpture of muscle against his t-shirt or honed into the wrists disappearing into his jacket cuffs. Strong in an understated way. And from the way he looked at me from under the unruly tousle of black hair and the low set of wild, sharp brows…

I doubt many dared to even ask him for it. He was intimidating, to say the least. That’s even an understatement… a big understatement. He was six feet tall, dark complexion, and had large muscles that cascaded throughout his entire form. The man never left the gym, I swear. He had black hair that was always kept short and a little messy, with dark blue eyes like the depths of the ocean. His facial hair was always kept neat and tidy, as if one hair out of place would ruin him. And maybe it would…

I announced and took his hand in mine “my name is Omen.” “Like the good one, or the bad one?” he tilted his head to the side, before his eyes wandered to the man approaching us with a bowl in his hand. His face was hardened, and he walked with a slight limp. His long white hair was streaked with black, which made it stand out against the crowd. He only wore blue denim jeans, to show off his gigantic muscly torso that I could see was tattooed with tribal markings down both sides of his ribcage to his hips.

To Amy, the metal man looked like a bronze statue of 2Pac if it came to life. She saw the electric light in his eyes glowing like a charging light on a smartphone. His chiseled, metallic chest resembled body armor on a gladiator. Amy’s words were stuck in her throat as she stared at 2Pac. She didn’t want to be fascinated by a robotic man wearing blue jeans. Amy tried to keep her focus on her son sitting in the metal man’s arms. She looked up at the robotic 2Pac, who towered over her. His carved titanium alloy-covered shoulder muscles shimmered from the auto factory ceiling’s lights shining down on his six-foot-four frame.

Win or lose. She glanced sidewise toward the wings and saw that Gary still had Caleb glued to his side. "I have a brand new tune for you," she began, "one the band hasn't even heard." She glanced back at them. "Sorry, guys." Jack did a little riff on the drums. "Sometimes in life you are lucky enough to meet the one right person, the one you know you were meant for and will love together. I've been fortunate enough to meet that person and this song is for him. I call it Man of my Heart."

“I can’t believe that the old man’s daughter is a whore. It’s a bad thing I already killed him and he cannot know how filthy her daughter is, huh?” “What did you say?” I shouted, wanting to fucking kill the both of them. He sarcastically chuckles and straightens his back. My body is freezing, watching him step closer in my direction. This man is only wearing a muscle shirt, but I can see his well-sculpted body. Big muscular arms, well-chiseled chest, and defined abdomen part. Damn, this man is sizzling hot. If only he is not crazy because my father is a wicked grass who cannot be easily killed by anyone.

I say with a cheeky smile, “nice to meet you name’s Evan.” Mario is fucking huge despite the fact that he’s wearing a suite I can still see the muscles bulging underneath. I consider myself pretty fit but in front of this guy I might as well be a fucking needle. I refuse to believe that he’s not taking steroids or something either that or his father is Zeus.

" Do you remember him??" Cody asked as Alyssa keep on staring at the guy with visible pity in her eyes " Yeah,,," She nodded " Well,,,,I guess you should know who did that to him " Cody grinned and Alyssa gasped " Don't tell me Luther did that " She screamed in a low voice " Okay I won't " Cody replied with a chuckle " That's too much,, the dude can't use that hand again. It look so weird and dislocated " Alyssa said and immediately turned