Dallas Winston Jacket Novels & Stories

"Eason has fantastic taste," she said, her voice light. "I'll have to ask where he shops for you. If this isn't a power suit, I don't know what is." I looked at it and smiled at the vibrant, blood-red dress. The pin in the lapel of the long jacket that went with it was Mooncrest's crest. It was stylish, edgy, and utterly powerful. Like I was ready to get blood on my clothes. Fight-starter.

But also to myself. I was in and out of the shower in five minutes, threw on a loose white button-down and my favorite coffee-brown pants that still managed to fit without suffocating me. I tied my hair up in a low bun, slapped on a bit of lip gloss, and snatched my bag. I was practically out the door when I came face to face with Winston, already dressed like the CEO of the century. He was dressed in a tailored grey suit, crisp shirt, and a dark bow tie that somehow made him look both lethal and devastatingly handsome.

This is it. Taking a deep breath, she subtly adjusted her evening attire, ensuring she looked her best. It was time to make her move. As if sensing her presence, Wyatt's gaze suddenly drifted towards her. He was donned in a tailored black tuxedo that hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his tall and well-built physique. The jacket was expertly cut, with a slim silhouette that emphasized his confident stance. Wyatt was handsome.

At the laundromat after closing... 🤎 Donald wore His long-sleeved, cloth jacket that covers him too well below his knees and is barely tied with string at the bottom left side. The sleeves of his jacket are very wide and reach down to well below his hands, they're decorated with a single thread lining and a decorative band. The jacket has a deep v-neck which reveals part of the modest shirt worn below it and is worn with a dark cloth belt, which is held together by a big belt buckle. The cloth belt is solely decorative and a status symbol.

S'go", as you say, right? Awe damn, where's my jacket?" "The one that was 'banished' to yer dirty clothes mountain you always leave on my floor? I put it in the closet by the front door. 'Where it belongs'," Tony replied with a sly grin. "Boy, you lazy. S'go already!" Dillon whipped his leather bomber jacket from the hanger in the front closet. It was the walnut brown one Tony had given him when he confronted Dillon about their shared love. While he may leave it on top of his mountain of dirty clothes, he did indeed take care of it. Every Friday into Saturday they spent together, and every week like clockwork, Dillon broke out the mink oil.

I added so she would have an idea, and in the end, we ended up in the jacket section. "Here are all the oversized jackets we have, the ones you said Bella wears, Miss." I smiled because that's exactly what I was looking for. I checked each design and color. In the end, I got two oversized jackets. The one I requested to wear now is a plain tortilla brown jacket with a Christian Dior label in the middle. I also grabbed a plain white t-shirt to wear underneath.

I was beyond shame. I peeled the dresss off slowly, teeth chattering as I pulled on the dry shirt and shorts. They were big, Dax was tall. His frame broad, but the warmth of the fabric was immmediate. I wrapped the blanket tightly around my shoulders, letting it envelope me. Dax watched quietly, then turned away and walked to the kitchen. He returned with a flask, shook it, then frowned. “It’s empty?” I nodded. He hesitated, then went to the liquor shelf and poured a small shot of clear liquid. Vodka, from the smell.

Cyrus growled at her compliment. My graduation gift to myself was my Dune and a black Overland Jacket to match. The bomber jacket, made of soft lambskin, was long enough to fit my torso. I could easily disappear while riding in the night. “Thanks, Jane.” She ignored me, lost in the abyss of men’s fashion. I tapped the desk, happy to turn over my pressing emergency to another.

Dax, the lead bounty hunter, raised his glass in a mock salute as I approached his table. "That is a tailored Italian wool jacket you are wearing, Draven," Dax commented, his voice a raspy growl. "Wearing something that expensive in this miserable corner of the world is a bold choice. The fabric is going to be ruined by the humidity alone, let alone the blood that usually paints these floors on a Tuesday night."

“Exactly.” Tan left him alone with a last wink and stepped towards the circle of naked ground in the middle of the flower arrangement, where the other wolves were already waiting for him. Now, there was only one thing to wait for. It didn’t take much longer for Ford and Jae to show up. When they did, Dallas was rendered speechless. Ford’s ceremonial clothes were a mirror of Dallas’s . The soft fur was cut into a fitted short sleeve jacket, the neckline low enough to leave the column of Ford’s neck bare. Below the vest, Ford wore a pair of loose leather Ford.