Ordinary Men Novels & Stories

Maybe the previous girl is not a good kisser, huh. “By the way, I am Jomuel Lourd Trinidad, ‘Jolo’ for short.” He looked cute, his face has soft features and the way he dress is not that manly but not bad either. I can guess that his body is not that muscular but not too skinny, as well. Just the right built. I smiled at him and nodded. They started introducing themselves after Jolo. “Mark Olive Mallari, just call me ‘Marko’.” Hmm, this Marko looks too professional. He is still wearing a slightly crampled suit without the coat like he just clocked out of work. He looked like a serious type, a husband material aura.

He’s finally out of their restraints. Lifting his head up, twenty strong men are in front of him—thick-bodied, tall, dangerous, breathing slow and steady like predators sizing up prey. But all he sees is red. Blood everywhere. He doesn’t care. They must all die. “Y’all must be really stupid to think you can beat me,” Ryan says casually, his boots echoing as he steps forward. The men aren’t chosen. From the top tier of the supposed strongest men, they offer themselves to battle— to prove their position. Eager for blood. Or maybe glory.

Do you think you can just push me around because I'm a decent guy? "Who could possibly be more certain of who they belong to than I, their mother?" "Oh, really? There you go again. But have you ever thought about those nights you stayed out? What if protection failed while you were fooling around with those men? "What if something happened while you were asleep, intoxicated, or who knows what else? Were you really that alert all the time? Can you honestly say you know exactly what happened every time?" "Joseph, shut the hell up! All that comes out of your mouth is filth. You—"

Now it’s stronger, and he looks scarier; feels more terrifying. Two men, whose backs are turned to her, bow to the alpha. The one by his right is dressed in a velvety wine-colored suit, while the one by his left looks rough around the edges, his whole attire made of black and brown leather. The shrieks and whispers continue in the background, especially from the women. “They’re here! The alpha’s brothers are back! The pack’s ambassador and the pack’s delight are here. Moon’s Wrath’s powerful trinity are finally together!”

”There can be only one way to find out,” I sniffed in, grabbing the rope before carefully wrapping it around my waist while they pulled me out. Standing before me were five ancient men whose skin was painted with mud as a camouflage. They had an intimidating height with broad shoulders and their chest bare, revealing their strong abs with sweat rolling down the contours. Their eyes were a mixture of gray and black; I couldn’t tell which was more domineering. Bound around their waist were sack clothes and some animal skin, probably from a leopard, judging from the print. I never thought people like this still existed but before me was a piece of glaring evidence they did. I swallowed hard, re

They are deliberately there with their proud muscled chest peering us down using their blank cheques. A second later, I saw the first batch of men approaching us as if we were just pretty things inside a beautifully-crafted glass cages. Some are holding a glass of wine and a cigarette on their mouth. Some are walking around with their hands inside their pants and their piercing eyes on us. I caught the eyes of a man in his early-thirties. I studied his appearance. He's handsome. He's not like the other men in his ranks in terms of physical appearance. He's just your average handsome neighbor type of guy.

The soft fabric perfectly outlined her flawless figure, with a slit on the right side that revealed her slender legs as she walked, capturing the attention of everyone around her. Three tall men, impeccably dressed in suits, with chiseled, god-like features, accompanied her, instantly becoming the center of attention. "Who are these men? They are so handsome!" "This is a visual feast. Each one is uniquely attractive." "Who's the woman in the middle? She's so lucky to be surrounded by such amazing men!" "Which family do these gentlemen belong to? I've never seen them before." Their arrival caused quite a stir, and the room buzzed with excitement. Soon, someone recognized one of them.

Overhead, dim red emergency strips glowed just enough to outline shapes. Ten men sat on metal chairs arranged in a loose semi-circle, all facing away from the entrance. Their backs were broad, shoulders filling the space like walls. One had dreadlocks tied back, another a shaved head with tattoos crawling up his neck. Skin tones ranged from deep black to pale white to warm brown. Every single one was built like he lifted cars for fun—thick arms, wide backs, thighs that strained their jeans. They didn't turn. They didn't speak. But the air felt heavier, thicker with anticipation.

Innocent, quiet, and weak. In a training field, two men were battling. They wore black tactical military suits and boots with long monkey king sticks. One was an older man while the other was a younger man. The older man was throwing in stick strikes on either side of the younger man while he ducked and defended. It was intense, with both breathing heavily and sweating. It seemed they had been at it for hours.

His three mates were leaner and a small taller than him but all equally looked like ex-boxers. The womans were common but surprisingly good looking and I did note that the guys were never shy about kissing or even fondling each other’s womanfriends. The stocky one was appropriately called Arnie and when they were in as four lads he watched and commented on every woman who panused him, including Ellie. It was obvious from his sign language that he appreciated her larger bust. From overheard conversation I figured that these guys were scaffolders by day but their reason for being in the bar was, perhaps more to do with a sideline in craze and pills. To that end they were dangerous people for u