My Neck My Back By Richard Cheese Novels & Stories

- Dean giggled, nuzzling his small head in my arms while he stuck out his tongue at Richard, acting all spoilt and terribly cute. I stroked his soft, blonde curls, glancing over at Richard - he had his sleeves rolled up, revealing his strong arms and his laced, black shirt had a few buttons undone..... revealing his chiseled collarbones and fair skin. He lowered his lashes, trying to conceal his fleeting emotions but his lips twitched in displeasure.

“I’ve got it covered. But you can help Tommy with the cheese if you want.” Richard nodded, turning to Tommy. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get that cheese ready.” Tommy’s eyes lit up, and he ran to the fridge, pulling out the block of cheese. Richard helped him grate it, the two of them working together in a way that made my heart ache with love. I watched them for a moment, the sight of Richard being so gentle and patient with Tommy bringing back memories of when things were simpler between us. As I drained the pasta and mixed in the sauce, Richard came up behind me again, wrapping his arms around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, watching as I stirred the pot.

I fell backward, lying on the ground, my upper body almost paralyzed. Richard approached me slowly, like a messenger from hell with a scythe to take my life. I had heard his reputation long ago; he was a violent maniac. Once he has identified someone, he must torture that person until he dies before he stops. It looks like I'm about to meet my parents. Richard sat down, grabbed my hair, and pulled me up. The entire weight of my body was pulled up, causing my scalp to hurt like it was about to tear. Suddenly he stopped, his eyes fixed on my neck, then brought his head close to my ear. “Your neck is so smooth.”

Madonna brought out her handkerchief and wiped her face. "I am sorry for her daughter losing her job. And I cannot blame her. When she is around a handsome man like Master Richard, who wouldn't him, except me, because I do not like him." "Coughs!" The sound of someone coughing at the stairs snapped me back to reality. As Madonna and I swiftly turned to look at the living room stairs, Richard stood there, shirtless in only his black shorts. He didn't even wear his robe. Seeing his broad chest made my thighs clench as I remembered how he had pulled me closer to him the previous day.

His hair w​as a bird's nest. He was e​ating mac and cheese. At ni⁠ne i‍n the​ morning. ​ I froze in the hal‌lway. From here, I‍ c​ould see the p⁠lay of muscles in his back as he mov‍ed the‌ s‍poon. My‌ min‌d im⁠mediatel‍y‍ fil​led in‌ the blanks. The wa​y those same muscles had bunched and ri​ppled while he wa‍s b‌uried inside‌ Greta. The r⁠aw power o​f his silhouette against th‌a‍t‌ re​d velvet.

"Common Arianna, I've dealt with heartbreak in the past. Can't you see that I'm able to talk normally again? I was shocked at that moment but I overcame it. I had thought Tessa posted an old time together of herself with Richard, though it's absurd enough but I went there to confirm that it's in the present. That's all. He's chosen her and prefers her to me. It's simple mathematics. It's probability. It's either a tail or a head. It would never be a head and a tail at the same time. Richard found himself between two women. He's to play a game of cheese. It's either Genesis or Tessa. It's never going to be Tessa and Genesis at the same time.

His anger was apparent and she cowered in the face of it. "Did he do it? Did YOUR MATE DO THIS?" Richard asked with a thundering voice. He stopped pacing and stood behind the couch, his hands gripping the back of the seat furiously. His knuckles were white as he held tight, wanting to rip the chair to shreds. He had a very thin grasp on his emotions and it was a miracle that nothing had yet been destroyed as a result.

came the response, and Carol's stomach performed that traitorous flip it always did at the sound of his voice. They made their way through the living room, past the leather sofa where Carol had sat countless times pretending to watch movies while secretly cataloging every movement Mr. Rich made when he passed through. The kitchen opened up before them, all granite countertops and stainless steel appliances, and there he was. Mr. Rich stood at the island, still in his work clothes—dark slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was chopping vegetables with practiced efficiency, a cutting board before him and a pan already heating on the stove. He looked up whe

“Are you declaring challenge, Chairman?” “I’m declaring terms.” He lifted his hand. The world exploded into motion. A faint hiss, metal on air. Damian moved before my brain caught up. His arm snapped out, a line of black suit and tendon, and something silver-hot hit his palm with a meaty thunk. He didn’t flinch. Gasps. A cry. Then I saw it: a slim dart, silver-tipped, buried to the fletching in the meat of his hand. The scent of aconite bloomed sharp and bitter.

Crystal had just finished telling Richard that he smelled like shit. “Really?” Richard exclaimed. “I smell like shit. That’s pretty rich coming from a smelly cunt like you!” Richard pretended to sniff both of his armpits, and he gave Crystal a lewd smile. “I get it. You must want to help me remove my smell with your body’s oh so lovely scent. When we smash!” As he spoke, he took off his shirt to reveal his upper body. “Does Eric’s little chili want to see if there are other smells on me?” He leaned closer to Crystal.