Dallas Winston Jacket Novels & Stories

Carter said slowly, scanning the massive space, “then where are your clothes?” “Deeper inside.” Carter ventured further into the closet and found a discreet door in the corner. Behind it was a much smaller space, almost laughably modest compared to the extravagance of Carter’s section. Just a few racks of clothing, all of them black. “Do you wear any colour other than black?” Carter asked, unable to help himself. “No.” Dallas had followed him into the closet, his presence filling the space behind Carter. “It’s more practical that way.” Carter rolled his eyes so hard it almost hurt. He grabbed the green shirt, a pair of grey slacks, and light blue loafers; the most aggressively un-Dallas outf

Her palms were sweating. "Two minutes to live, people!" a crew member yelled through a megaphone. "You look like you're about to vomit," a deep, smooth voice murmured beside her. Summer turned her head to see Jaxson standing next to her. He was wearing his official Eastern University varsity jacket—dark blue with heavy leather sleeves and the massive white Bulldog crest on the chest. He looked every bit the elite athlete: broad-shouldered, tall enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him, and possessing an effortless, infuriating confidence that seemed to draw every eye in the courtyard toward him.

Avery stabilized Dorothea as the child scaled the high chair, watching as she deposited the plush rabbit flat against the linen table cloth to methodically manipulate its cloth ears. The heavy sound of boots resonated from the entrance corridor. Drake cleared the threshold first, shifting his torso sideways to force the massive double doors open to their maximum width. Dominic had transitioned into a dark, flawlessly tailored executive suit, his silk tie fastened with absolute, geometric precision. He advanced into the space, followed closely by a female counterparty. Short hair, dark tailored evening wear, and an exceptionally sharp, high-contrast cosmetic alignment... Jessica Winster. Conc

CAMILLA RENÉE. THURSDAY. This is pungent. The setting. The outfits. Even the words used are hot. I'm not speaking completely about Dylan—sure he's standing out with that suit. Not the kind on Saturday—but an actual black suit vest, the hand-less jacket has come off his torso and hanging over a chair. He's not wearing a T-shirt, but a full-sleeved shirt. Tight. Sexy. So good. I can peak at the frames of his chest.

She quickly ran to her door with her tall heels (pretty sturdy it seems ) and opens the door without peeking at the peephole. She regretted not doing so seeing Daniel freakin Walton is standing in front of her apartment with his business casual outfit. A simple white shirt with his coat hanging over his arm. He wore long black khaki pants which hug his leg perfectly. Not too tight, not too lose either. ... Everything about his look was perfect. That bright blue eyes staring back at her and his dimples, damn that dimples for making her blush. Not forgetting the huge bouquet of the rose he tries so hard to hide behind his back.

A sea of expectant faces turned to witness my radiant entrance, anticipation flickering in their eyes. When my gaze met Damien's, standing tall and confident at the altar, my heart skipped a beat. His suit, carefully chosen in hues of deep blue and vibrant yellow, perfectly complemented our color scheme. The jacket, made from luxurious silk, reflected the warmth and sincerity that he radiated with ease. The intricate stitching and carefully chosen accessories completed the ensemble, a true embodiment of his own subtle charm and impeccable taste.

he said, "oh, and I hope you feel better!" I gave him a wave, hopefully facing the right direction, and when the doors closed, I finally peeled off my blindfold. Dakota was, as usual, seated at his desk. However, today he had on a button up shirt that was short sleeve instead of his usual long sleeve, and his jacket was hanging on the back of his chair. This was a rare look for him, but I had to admit he looked so damn good. His tanned arms were stretched onto his desk, and I saw the muscles in his biceps twitching as he typed furiously into his laptop.

It will show him more powerful. It was a beautiful dress. The upper black portion will hug the torso tight and then run lose down her waist as a red skirt. Since the dress was strapless and rather had low cut back, Lola added a red jacket to not only hide the skin but also proof of that horrible accident. The sleeves of that simple yet expensive jacket ended down the elbows.

I didn't have the time to come here nor any reason to visit. The door of the house opens and Winston Wright comes out wearing a simple gray polo shirt, khaki slacks and brown shoes. I looked down at what I was wearing. It seems I'm a bit overdressed for this party. I take off my suit jacket and tie and gave it to my Beta, Marcus, who was standing behind me.

Look for the boring car. My heart did a front flip. I grabbed my leather jacket and headed down. When I stepped onto the sidewalk, a sleek, black SUV was idling at the curb. The door opened before I even reached it, and Jaxson stepped out. He had traded his usual jersey wears for a pair of dark chinos and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that looked like they were carved from granite. He wasn't wearing a hat, and his hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his hands through it in anticipation.