No More Mister Nice Guy Audiobook Novels & Stories

Morana couldn't help but to smile a little at herself at that thought. "Ummmm...okayyyy..." Mister said, blinking his eyes as though he was struggling to get his shit back together. "Soooo... okay, this might possibly work out because there are plenty of young women here. There are lots of residents and staff that would fit the bill for what you need," he said confidentially. She watched intently as his body language changed, she was taking it all in to decide if she could trust him. "That's wonderful, son," she said with a smile.

If his mom found out, she’d surely force him to see a shrink this time. Bzzz... Bzzz... Someone’s calling. His mom, probably. Mick took his cell out of his pocket. There was a text from his programmer cousin. Then he opened the voicemail that was sent next. “Congratulations. Your girlfriend’s a dead 72-year-old librarian from Dublin. (mocking claps and chuckles in the background) She’s a kickass Grey Hat, man. I gotta meet her.” °

I reduce the volume before playing the recording, and my heart sinks into my stomach when Brynn’s voice echoes through the device, accompanied by very rough words. “It’s not just dislike. It’s more than that. He’s a cocky guy with no regard for modesty and dignity. He has zero morals and probably believes the most pleasurable thing on earth is finding the next girl to play with. To think this is what he’s devoted his life to makes me feel pity for him.” I pause the recording when I hear something sizzling in the kitchen and I swallow the big lump in my throat before I drop the phone back on the sofa and head to the front door once again, not bothering about what I came for.

I snarled as everything that had happened that afternoon came rushing back to my head. Then, I remembered who I was talking to. I smiled apologetically to Red. “I am sorry. I did not mean to take my frustrations out on you.” He nodded at the service crew when he came to take our order. While placing our orders, I began to study Red. He seemed like a good person. It was hard to believe that someone like him could work for my ev*l father and his equally ev*l son. The waiter left, and we were surrounded by an awkward silence.

I place the call and await a reply. “Mr. Merrick. It is a pleasure to hear from you sir. What can I do for you? As our biggest donor to the new wing of the facility we really want to make sure you are as happy as possible.” Mr. Lance shmoozes. I roll my eyes and chuckle which is saying a lot. This is the first time that I have smiled so far today since I left my wife in bed this morning

With that, she walked towards the door, opened it, went out and shut the door softly. As her footsteps grew faint, I scooped the creamy dessert and shoved the damn spoon into my mouth with a plan formulating in my head. Watch out, mate. I, Keller Madsen, will chase your gorgeous ass no matter what it takes. Prepare to be swooned.

His voice softened. I was keening from the urgent impulse entirely new to me and inexpressible, I moaned loudly; “Yes! Yes! Yes please” Then lowered my voice once. “Paired and connected successfully” He mimicked Siri. “Now, Mr B.D can’t wait to penetrate and thrust in and out of your honey pot” He spoke softly and sensually. I bit my lips when a felt tingling touch from an imaginary d*ck sliding up my thigh yet I kept my eyes bravely opened because I only wanted to feel what was coming upon me but I got engrossed staring at the Mr BD which truly was a huge d*ck.

They will never hear anything from me. It was nothing but an honest mistake from that kind man , Mister Douglas. Had we met under a different circumstances, I am very sure that we’d make good friends. It was strange that I feel very close to that person. He strikes me as someone I could sit down and talk to for hours on end without getting bored. In my opinion, a man like him, who had seen enough of this world have the wisdom to impart to younger people.

I said, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees, “I used to think white-collar guys were all boring as hell. But you—you're a special kind of uptight. Like, if you clenched your ass any harder, I think time would reverse.” Pretty turned his gaze back to me slowly, calmly, and said, “I will smother you in your sleep with that pillow. And I’ll smile doing it.” My face lit up. “There he is! Roomie bonding, baby!” From outside, the guards walked by again. One of them peeked in, saw me still alive, and muttered, “God help Laurent.” I winked at them. “He’s already in heaven.” Pretty boy went on to pick up a book, muttering something that sounded like “I need bleach.”

His slightly unruly dark brown hair. The sway in how he walks. Innate sexiness and passion exudes from him. Just like his mother. “Mrs. Hale,” he says, then turns to Charles. “Mr. Hale.” I see Charles almost go small under his stare. His voice is calm. Polished. Clean American accent. I hate him already. I force a tight smile. Stand. Extend my hand. “You must be Nico Morel.” “Nico Morel-Hale.” He shakes my hand. Firm, neutral grip. Nothing extra. “I appreciate you making time.”