Dallas Winston Jacket Novels & Stories

"Precisely. We have a reservation at seven. In Dallas." Dallas. A three-hour drive. This wasn't a casual dinner; it was a statement. "But…" "Jennifer," he said, his voice dropping to a soft yet firm command. "The time for hiding is over. Get dressed." The authority in his voice was a strange comfort. It was the opposite of Stanley’s chaotic, violent demands. I placed the boxes on my small, rickety dining table and opened them. The large box contained a dress. It wasn't just any dress. It was a column of liquid night, a simple, sleeveless sheath of the finest black crepe. It was severe, elegant, and powerful.

Darryn sits back on the bed with a phone in his hand; he looks up at Joshua, “who wants to know who I am?” “Listen, six. I am not here to go back and forth with you. Why is Winters jacket here?” “You do not know who I am, do you?” Says Darryn, chewing bubblegum and smirking up at Joshua. “I am not interested in who you are; I am here for Winter.” Darryn stands up, moving in closer as he lights a cigarette and blows it into Joshua's face. “Nice ring; it looks expensive.’ Joshua is wearing a limited edition 24-carat gold ring with a dollar sign outlined with diamonds reflecting in the sun; underneath the ring, he has an MF tattoo.

I brought some spare clothes because Wyatt told me beforehand. Wearing my pink floral mini dress from Cartier with panels and shot sleeves, paired with my nude stiletto, I walked my way through the staircase and saw Wyatt at the end of the stairs. He's all black today, from his dress shirt, pants, dress shoes and watch. All is black, and it looks so hot and perfectly fine on him. I smiled as I reached him and refrained myself from encircling my arms on his hands because we're still at home.

I noticed the noise Preston had been making rummaging around had suddenly gone silent. I glanced up and was shocked to see him gone. My fingers went down to the countertop with the intention of hopping down when he reentered the room. His fireman pants were gone, and now he wore his common black skinny jeans.He walked over toward me with a cream-colored suit jacket laid over his bent arm. It had black and gray floral and leaf design on it. My eyes lifted from the jacket to him as he approached me. He was silent as he lifted thejacket and opened it, laying it carefully over my shoulders. He turned away from me to grab the supplies

I don't see any fur or symbols I recognize. Then I see the crest on their vests. The Sterling Family crest. My blood turns to ice. Jaxson steps out of the middle SUV, wearing a pristine designer coat that probably costs more than this entire forest. He's holding a cigarette between his fingers, and he looks relaxed. Too relaxed. Like he's out for a Sunday drive instead of hunting me through the woods. He doesn't look like the scared boy who ran away from the club that night. He looks smug. Confident. Like a man who came to collect something that belongs to him.

The hotel being a Larson family property who were considered good friends with the Wilson's and the Wallace family, ensured strict security and order, making the guests enjoy their view but had to be restrained behind rails. Cynthia stepped out, arm in Drake's and the two walked elegantly to the red carpet like a couple matched in heaven. The crowd wowed in amazement, everyone was used to Drake's habit of shining than a star, he was dressed impeccably, exuding sophistication and elegance. It was his usual bespoke black tuxedo, tailored to perfection to accentuate his tall and wonderful physique. The jacket was single-breasted with satin peak lapels, and the trousers had a strip of satin stri

Both Misty and Jane were in deep trouble, however, it was the complete opposite for the Winchesters. Things had been going well for Dennis' career lately. He was no longer dressed in suits that didn't flatter him. Instead, he sported cargo pants and a black leather jacket. Now he truly looked like a carefree artist. He looked completely different compared to his previous self. He used to be weary and disheartened, but now he was as pleased as Punch. Kesha was astonished when he showed up in his new look. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

"Really?" Mr. Winchester reclines against the side of his sedan, arms tucked into his pockets like he wasn't just throwing stones at my window. He is dressed up. Like the 'I'm attending a world-class event' kind of dressed up. If I ever get the chance, I'd check out his closet, just to find out how many tuxes he has. The man never repeats clothes. It's always a different colour, or style, or length. It's a brown tailcoat this time, with a matching vest and pants. A grey pin-dotted tie sits around his white collar, folded neatly into his vest.

Alyssa cried when the man walked downstairs, helped by Jonah. Winston exclaimed, "What took you so long? I'm starving here!" "Oh, wow! Look at you! Are you trying to set a new trend for the grandpas out there?" Alyssa teased, looking him up and down. Winston wore a waistcoat with a golden pocket watch at his breast. The outfit suited him well, giving him a classy, refined look. "A new trend? Ohoho, I wouldn't need to try hard to become the next trendsetter." Winston chuckled heartily. "I could throw on some slacks and easily become the next celebrity superstar of the decade.

With him gone, I can finish applying my makeup for our paragliding date. I’m polishing my lips with lip gloss when Dallas returns, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a tight black shirt that outlines his pectoral muscles. I can’t take my eyes off of him. Even though I’m dressed in a pair of beige tights and a matching shirt, Dallas makes me feel underdressed. “You look good,” I say, glancing at his outfit.