Dallas Winston Jacket Novels & Stories

I rolled my eyes at that logic and Austin's head may have been turned away to do the same. The ladies also decided we needed to dress casually so we didn't look like a couple of thugs. I thought Austin would put a stop to that one, but he's so fucking in love with his woman that he just smiled, kissed her, and came downstairs in khaki pants and a polo looking like he just showered and changed after a day on the golf course. Now I'm wearing jeans and a black dress shirt along with fucking western boots Celina bought me last Christmas. The only description I come up with is flaming queer cowboy. If anyone actually says the word cowboy in my vicinity, I'll drive my fist into their face until on

He assured me and I nodded. I felt pathetic, my hands were trembling as I took off his suit jacket and white long sleeve, Dallas's was coated in black ink but that wasn't the problem. The hole on the side, close to his heart I bawled my eyes out inspecting the bleeding injury. It must have grazed his vitals or worse destroyed something, I tore his sleeve and checked the car for alcohol but I couldn't find any so I wrapped the sleeve around his body. He weighed a ton but I managed and after I tied his wound I wiped the blood off his body, he was just here with me in this car this morning.

The heavy iron-reinforced doors at the top of the velvet-carpeted stairs swung open. Dax Vance stepped down into the lounge. Tonight, Dax wore no jacket—only a tailored charcoal silk vest over a crisp, fitted black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. On his left collarbone, visible through the slightly open top buttons of his shirt, sat a subtle, lethal accent: a dark, stylized tattoo of a thorned serpent wrapping toward his shoulder. He walked with an effortless, hypnotic rhythm, flanked not by bodyguards tonight, but carrying an aura of absolute self-assurance that cleared a path through the dim room.

“To celebrate your victory, we've prepared a free spa session and dinner at one of the locations in the pack.” I raised my hand and Dallas raised a brow at the gesture. “Yes Ms Harper?” “This reward, is it the standard reward for winners or something special because of your alphas presence?” He flushed. “It's actually just the standard reward but we can arrange something…” “No need,” I interrupted. “I like this one.” “Alright. I'll get the coupons for you. Please remove your vests, I'll be back for them.” He picked up our discarded markers and left. Dallas held out his hand, I took it and he pulled me to my feet. He helped me remove the protective gear, then stared at me.

Damien was already downstairs. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of whiskey. He was wearing a dark charcoal suit, the same shade as the dress, as if he'd planned it. The jacket was perfectly tailored, hugging his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The white shirt beneath was crisp, unbuttoned at the collar, revealing just a hint of his chest. His hair was styled differently tonight. Sleek, looking controlled. It gave him an almost dangerous edge, like a predator who'd just spotted his prey.

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

She trails off, rotating the screen toward me, and my entire world tilts sideways as I look at the screen. The headline screams in bold, attention-grabbing font: DALLAS' NEW POWER COUPLE: NFL QUARTERBACK JAXON WOLFGANG AND BILLIONAIRE MOGUL HEIRESS VICTORIA ASHWORTH SPOTTED AT A ROMANTIC DINNER. It’s not the headline that has me swallowing hard. No, it's the photograph that kills me. Jaxon and Victoria are sitting across from each other at an intimate table, her hand resting on his forearm, both of them leaning in close like they're an old couple who’ve been together for years.

He knew that his appearance played a crucial role in his professional success, and he was determined to dress the part. Stepping out of the shower, Daryl wrapped a plush towel around his waist and moved to his walk-in closet, which was meticulously organized with an array of stylish suits, shirts, and ties. Each garment represented a carefully curated choice, reflecting his impeccable taste and attention to detail. Today, he decided to opt for a charcoal gray suit with a crisp white shirt, exuding an air of confidence and sophistication.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he made his way to his closet, eager to pick out an outfit that would make him look and feel his best. As he perused his wardrobe, Alexander Sterling settled on a pair of dark-wash jeans that hugged his legs in all the right places. He paired them with a crisp white button-up shirt that was slightly unbuttoned at the top, revealing a hint of his chest. The shirt was tailored to fit him perfectly, accentuating his muscular build.