Manuel García: A Man with Sins. 3, Gebunden

Klappentext

Men with flaws, with contradictions, with shadows. Men who speak too much or too little, who laugh too loudly, who work hard, cheat harder, and still manage to ignite desire in the heat of a glance. Manuel García writes of these men-real, raw, often rough-where attraction is born not from romance, but from conflict, banter, and the unspoken weight of lust. These are not pretty stories; they are virile encounters, charged with sweat, tension, and need.

At the core of this collection is A Man with Sins. An afternoon in Cádiz, beer sweating on the table, the talk shifting between politics, money, and women. Three men, circling each other in jokes, arguments, and confessions, until beneath the laughter another current emerges-thicker, heavier. Between Mariano and Ramón, friendship trembles on the edge of something more: a moment when anger, irony, and silence give way to hunger.

He laughs, and his whole face changes. His hand lingers on my shoulder, too firm, too familiar. His eyes dare me to push him away, or to take him in. The bar noise fades, replaced by the warmth of his body leaning closer, by the scent of beer, tobacco, and skin. I feel the weight of his words still hanging in the air, but all I want is the taste of his mouth, the press of his chest against mine, the heat of what he will not admit.

These are stories of men as they are-fallible, shameless, marked by sin. And yet it is in their sins that desire burns brightest, that bodies betray themselves, that silence becomes the loudest confession.

Lust is never innocent. And men are never pure.