Rick Sanchez Novels & Stories

Miracle or Deceit: Paralyzed Billionaire Sinjin Santillan Walks Out of His Party After His Girlfriend Rejects Him. "In an astonishing turn of events at the extravagant birthday celebration of billionaire mogul Sinjin Santillan, attendees were left stunned as Santillan, who has been paralyzed from the waist down for years, reportedly rose from his wheelchair and walked out of the party after a public rejection by his girlfriend.

My gaze drifts to the man he was with earlier. “That’s Carlos.” Sanz smiles, wagging is brows in a frenzy wave. “He’s an ER doctor, and… I've been seeing him for the past couple of days.” A sly smile crosses his face, and he winks at me. “You’re gay?” I whisper, my voice full of shock. “I’m Bi. I'm kind of a greedy prick.” He adds with a smile filled with pride. “I had no idea!” I lowly exclaim. “No one ever does. It's so much fun gorging everyone’s reaction the first time I tell them.” He snickers.

“So good to have you here." "Good to see you, too, man." I accept his handshake firmly. Santi’s a bulky, yet tall man. He towers above my height, and I’m six foot two. His shirt looks awfully small on him, a few buttons unable to hang on. A white, tight shirt peeks from under the shirt which is tucked into an equally tight-fitted pants. When he flashes his teeth at me, it's a gold show. There is no single hint of white teeth. If Santi could wear his dirty, mafia money everyday, he definitely would.

he pointed at the patch, “this is the worst part. You damn bitch. I’m gonna rip yours off after we get tired of filling your pussy with cum.” With those filthy words, he threw himself at me. I shot my legs out to kick him hard. My heels were gone, kicked off somewhere. Sanchez caught my foot and yanked me toward him with brutal force. I screamed, choking on a sob, pain ripping through my muscles like they were being torn apart. Still, I fought him. I twisted and snatched up the sharpened stick of wood. “Aah!” I screamed as I spun, even though my legs lit up with pain.

Alejandro Ricardo Sandoval doesn’t take long to get back to his senses. Despite his bloody jaw there’s dark satisfaction in his eyes as he swings at me, his fist grazing me but I don’t give a damn when I smack him again, harder this time, my bloodied knuckles connecting with his flesh again and this time he stumbles even more, until he looses his balance and falls to the floor.

"Officer Sanchez, you're up!" The Latino man stepped forward, stripping off his jockstrap as he did so. His large brown uncut cock jumped to attention. His thick pubic hair glistened as if it were treated with hot oil. His balls hung well below his body. He approached Tim's hole, choosing to finger-fuck the boy before sticking his cock inside. Sanchez' rough fingers eagerly found Tim's exhausted prostate, leading to another flow of precum from the boy, despite having just dumped a load moments earlier.

Two of which he knew, looking rough and tattered and one, whom he didn't know, was bound tightly to a chair. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked in his baritone voice. Kai and Seiji felt chills run down their spine. Sunny Lee is not only a boxing champion but also a retired soldier. The man was a complete beast. Even bigger than Seiji. He had a bald head with two dark eyes that seem to peer right into your soul. His nose was crooked and he had a bushy greying mustache above thick lips. He was dressed in a three piece black suit which did nothing to hide those bulging muscles.

Lucian slowly brought a hand up to wipe the dripping water from his face, his jaw tight as he slid his hand back into his trouser pocket, staring down at her with cold defiance. Before he could utter a single word, Selena stepped forward. She pulled a small tin of petroleum jelly from her purse, scooped a generous dab onto her palms, and rubbed them together with lethal precision. Then, she marched right up to him and landed a resounding slap across his face that echoed through the quiet kitchen.

My heart feels like a barbed wire has strangled it to the point of being unable to breathe. It’s the night of the fight and it feels like it will be my last night alive. I still don’t understand who okayed this fight because it doesn’t make sense at all. I am 5'6 and weigh 145 pounds while Creed is 6’4 and 240 pounds of raw muscle. He’s a fucking heavyweight and by all counts, this fight should be illegal! I’m a pipsqueak compared to him, a featherweight for God’s sake; I am going to die at his hands!

The man had to be out of his mind if he thought that we could be going on a vacation now, but somehow, with everything going on, he might be. “Oh really? And where do you want us to go when we know that there are two psychotic idiots who are waiting to kill us?” You know, we might as well give them a silent invitation or call to follow and kill us. Believe me, they would be very grateful considering that you would be making the job easier for them” I said, making Dante laugh. His eyes studied my expression for a second before he sighed, and I knew that it was due to his pain that he was speaking the way he was. Normally, he knew what he was doing, he had his plans set, and he knew who he was