Bald Taper Fade Black Male Novels & Stories

His muscles bulging out of the grey short-sleeved shirt he wore. He sensed my presence as if by magic, his body stiffened and immediately turned, eyes jiggering around as if looking for someone. Finally, his gaze landed on me, his eyes widened a fraction. He looked as handsome as ever, his grey eyes matching perfectly with his grey shirt. This time his hair was cut a little lower than usual. Hm, who knew a taper fade would fit him so well. ''Sky?'' He crooked, his voice coming out only as a whisper. His voice. Its been a long time since I heard his voice. It sounded much more mature.

The street lamps began to crumble just like they had done the day of the accident, the earth crumbling as the ground quaked. “Seems you could use a little help, little vamparina.” A masculine voice resonated in the air. Vamparina? There he stood, along with my parents, his eyes red, his black dreadlocks running down along his face, his muscles big, merging perfectly with his physique, his perfectly chiseled jawline with a black cloak on. “Blood!” They groaned. “Back to the underworld.” He said as he raised his hands. The air stood still, flame engulfing the creatures in a minute. Groans filled the air as they began to disintegrate into soot, flowing along with the wind.

Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that his last name is Gray. What she found most attractive was his shiny light brown hair, he was carrying a classic Taper haircut which complimented the mustache and beard; he had brushed the quiff upwards to give him the celebrity look. His lips were attractively pink, and given the amount of melanin he had for a white guy. He wasn’t the usual pale white male, he was a bit dim but not of color either; he was just somewhere in between.

It's not black, but a cream white that boosts his complexion. I am so fucked.

Every movement deliberate, every pause perfectly timed — he really lives up to the title of sexy man. His white shirt is neatly tucked into fitted black pants, cinched with a silver belt that accentuates his slim waist. I love that combo. It goes perfectly with his black loafers. His hair is parted and slicked to the side, making him look more masculine, more mature than usual. As I approach him, he looks genuinely surprised — but that expression vanishes just as quickly. “Shall we go?” he asked with a small smile.

The curls behave until you get to the tips of his hair that rests at his nape where they curl defiantly. He’s wearing black slacks that are fitted to his body, the powerful muscles of his thighs push against the fabric as he turns, he’s got on a black belt and I don’t miss the matching Gucci logo on the front of it that makes it look like we planned it. To finish off his ensemble he’s wearing a loose white t-shirt. His piercings were visible through the sheer material. They always caught my eye. The edge of a tattoo peeked just above the sheer material and I wondered what it was. Looking up, I was caught by those dark obsidian eyes that were pleased.

I didn't think twice to nod my head after losing my grip on that bartender. He is a tall, tan skin muscular man whose full arms and neck are filled with weird tattoos, his ears were decorated with earrings, he was wearing a full black outfit tight tee and ripped jeans and a leather jacket with boots, his front hair was long enough to touch his chin which is pure black and other side were buzzed and undercut, this style reminds me, Kai. He smirked and said "Come I will give you a better thing to get high"

He was handsome and so much more- enough to make her heart race. Stormy grey eyes with flecks of green within took her in, assessing her in the same way she was assessing him. His raven black hair was cut into a fade- short on the sides but slicked back into an effortless look. He was truly a male specimen worthy of awe. His averagely muscular body was dressed casually and in all black. A turtleneck underneath a long trench coat that matched his jeans and combat boots. His skin was an olive shade, his handsome features accentuated by a strong jaw and a small scar on his right brow. He was rough, seemingly not one to smile so easily and yet his cold and withdrawn expression made him all the m

“Short for Elias, but I don’t mind if you stick to Eli.” He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward me with a casual grace that screamed confidence—or arrogance, depending on how you looked at it. His black turtleneck clung to his lithe body, paired with tailored slacks that gave him an effortless, polished look. He was a male stripper, I immediately put together. They had just been introduced to the club. “I do not feel like asking the story behind the puffy eyes and cavewoman look, so I would just say you are a lot shorter than I imagined,” He said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

…What? The lights shift in weird halos as I focus on the tall figure behind him. Oh. Oh wow. He looks like someone carved a warning out of marble and dressed it in black. Black shirt stretched across a chest that should honestly be illegal, sleeves rolled to the elbows revealing tattooed forearms, black pants that do absolutely nothing to hide anything, black boots, black aura, black mood. His hair is shaved on the sides, the top longer, tousled, dark as ink. I can practically smell the danger radiating off him. Dave clears his throat.