Dallas Winston Jacket Novels & Stories

Still wearing the same wig, sunglasses, slacks, and blouse, he headed toward the boutique. Women had earned his greatest respect. Jax planned on starting a foundation for more comfortable and durable clothes. It wasn’t that the slacks weren’t comfortable. It was just that the fabric clung too much as the wind whipped around him. At least the pocketbook he’d found in Perry’s closet worked out fine. He enjoyed having a place to put his phone and considered having a man purse one day. More wind whipped around him as the sky continued to darken. Jax doubt the wig will stay on. What would Rhett say if he could see him?

Wilson added. Xyla felt very touched by what he had casually said. At that moment, Xyla felt something like a warm breeze blowing against her chest… Her entire chest felt at ease and warm. Wilson was dressed very smart today. He wore a black, high-class, custom-made Versace tuxedo with a white shirt and a black tie. Although Wilson was quite aged, he still seemed charming because his facial features were intricate enough. Soon, Stanley, Josh Batton, Catherine Batton, and Sharon Lindt surrounded her.

💦Last Call, First Fuck💦 “Another whiskey sour, handsome. Make it strong.” I leaned over the sticky bar in my tight little red dress, pushing my tits up so they nearly spilled out. The Austin dive bar was almost empty. It was just me, the cocky bartender, and a couple of drunks in the corner. Jax grinned as he looked me up and down. Tall, tattooed, messy dark hair, and a smile that screamed trouble. His black t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, and the way his jeans hung low made my mouth water.

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.

Once his name was pulled and his starting position was locked, the countdown to Friday night would officially begin. "You're standing in the draft again," a deep, gravelly voice rumbled from the quiet interior of the lounge. Jaxson walked out of the shadows. He had eschewed the formal team blazer for the morning, wearing a dark, high-neck charcoal sweater under a structured black coat that made his broad shoulders look massive, almost threatening, in the tight confines of the doorway. He closed the distance between them in two heavy, silent strides, his presence immediately cutting off the chilly draft coming from the open concourse.

Why not want a man or woman with a simple life? The next night, exactly at 8 p.m., Alex was knocking on his door. Win looked at himself in the mirror one last time. He looked good. He was wearing dark, tight pants and a burgundy shirt open at the first two buttons, showing his chest covered in long collars. He had dark eye shadow that matched his outfit, eyeliner, and a little bit of highlight too. He wanted to look radiant for Alex. When he opened the door, Win almost gasped. Alex looked so handsome. He was wearing black pants and a blue polo that hugged his arms and chest perfectly. Damn, suddenly his decision felt easier to make.

The consequences of their actions remain uncertain, leaving the future of Nora, Terry, and the wedding itself hanging in the balance. As the grand doors of the mansion swing open, Jay Nashville steps into the scene, exuding an aura of elegance and charm. Dressed in a meticulously tailored three-piece tuxedo, he cuts a dashing figure, catching the attention of those present. Every detail of his attire has been carefully selected, from the perfectly fitted jacket to the crisp white shirt and the finely knotted bowtie. Jay's tuxedo is a classic black, accentuating his tall and commanding stature. The fabric shimmers subtly under the sunlight, reflecting his confident and refined demeanor. The s

It was just one kiss Eleanora it meant nothing, my brain told my spontaneous heart. As I shut the door behind me I saw Dallas carrying a basket of red roses as she walked down the hallways. She was dressed in a black pantsuit with a white blouse under her coat. Her stilettos clicked with every step she took and her silver hair was up in a bun revealing her radiant face that looked like a doll from her lack of smiling. The goldcrest was on her topcoat pocket and there was always this intimidating air about Dallas you could feel the narcism coming off her. It reeked like bad perfume. Her pace slowed when her eyes landed on me. "Be a dear and take this into the entertainment room," her voice w

I loved it. A smile spread across my face despite the fact Austin was sitting next to me. He was focused, his wolf almost constantly at the fore as his blue eyes shone with a vicious glint. He was fired up and ready. I still couldn’t shake the image of his flushed, blissful face as he and Zaw came together in a tangled mess of limbs. Yet that man was gone. Almost wearing a suit of armour he glittered in platinum and gold. Wearing a bright blue military style jacket he was covered in decoration. The Greenway regalia was exotic and bright, shimmering even in the car.

After Paul hangs up, the brimming need to sneak a look at my laptop’s screen wraps around my neck like a noose, and I find myself looking at the picture again. Jaxon Wolfgang is standing there in his Dallas Titans uniform. His jersey number is twelve, and the word TITANS is stretched across his massive chest. At thirty-nine, he looks every inch the legendary NFL quarterback the media claims him to be. His dark hair is slicked back from his rugged features, and his intense blue-grey eyes are fixed on the camera with that same authoritative focus he uses to dominate the field. “Mommy!” I’m cut off from my thoughts by the tiny shrieking voice from across the patio calling me.