Guess Combat Boots Black Novels & Stories

“The boots are covered in a fine-grained black sand of some sort with an unusual scent. I also find it in the prints. It’s not soot or ash of some type. I think it’s stone and the scent is distinctive.” “Show me.” Using a snapped twig he finds on the ground as a pointer, the recruit indicates what he’s talking about both in the prints and in smudges on the boots. My brows draw together. “The vamp that attacked at the Luna ceremony wore boots like that, with the same type smudges. And the night we found Kassandra in the forest, she was covered in some black silt that looked like ash. What’s stuck in the treads looks like it comes from stone though. We need Charlie.”

I соugh аt the раіn сhоkіng mу hеаd, аnd trу tо stop thе rеtсhіng іn my mouth аnd mу jеrkіng аrоund on the flооr. Thе bottom оf thе реrѕоn’ѕ boots іѕ close nоw. It’s jеt blасk ѕtіlеttоѕ thаt соuld оnlу bеlоng to оnе person.

"As much as I hate to interrupt the show, boss, we have a tight schedule. I found some high-end, reinforced combat boots in the back section. Black leather, steel shanks, lightweight." ​He stepped directly into my line of sight, effectively blocking a portion of the mirror. He crouched down in front of me, his half-open jacket swinging forward to reveal the sharp lines of his chest and the dark ink tracing his collarbones. He picked up one of the heavy boots, holding it out toward my foot. ​"Let's see if we can get your sizing right, Feisty," Daniel murmured, his voice dropping into a quiet, unexpectedly smooth register as he took off the current boot I was wearing, his fingers brushing the

"Just checking the freon levels on the secondary cooling unit. We had a pressure drop on the main board." I didn't lower the stick. I scanned him from head to toe. The navy uniform fit him tight across the chest, straining against thick muscle. My eyes locked onto his feet. "You check freon levels in standard-issue tactical combat boots?" I asked, tightening my grip on the stick. "Usually, the union guys wear steel-toed work boots. Yours look like they belong on a private security detail." The man’s smile didn't reach his eyes. He tossed the rag onto a nearby utility cart.

His deep voice trails off menacingly, leaving absolutely no room for doubt. I raise an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Let my mind guess—your boots are from the Blackfang Rogue Pack, Gerard’s crew, right?"

A bold masculine choice for a sexy masculine captor. Who knows how many of his female targets he had captured this way. I was one of a thousand, perhaps. I tucked the oversized shirt into the denim jean, making more adjustments with the heavy brown belt to fit my small frame. His boots were inches longer than my small feet could fit into them. Nonetheless, I dipped my feet into them, smiling at the comfort I derived from the warmth that greeted my toes. I tapped my toes against the inside of the boots playfully, sizing myself up in them.

I look up at the back door with wide eyes, shocked to see Kent standing there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. “Put those on,” he says. “We have somewhere to be.” Frowning, I lift the box into my lap and open the top, gasping a little as I see a pair of the most gorgeous boots. They’re tall, nearly knee-high, and made of supple black leather with a delicate little buckle around the ankle. “Where are we going?” I ask, my face lighting up. Honestly, I don’t care – out of the house it sounds like, so I’m thrilled either way.

Her fingers pointed to the black combat boots sticking out of the cart. Jorn gave her a nod. “Cute and water-resistant,” he said, his voice pitched slightly higher as he mimicked her tone. A literal shiver ran down my spine. “How do we make sure he never does that again?” Nate whispered in my ear, equally as weirded out. “I don’t know,” I whispered back. He pointed to one of the other guys who had his hand raised. “What about the lightning bolt? I noticed some of them are purple and some are gold.”

"She also said you needed these." The black combat boots in his hands were practical, sturdy, and looked like they could do some damage if I ever needed to kick someone while wearing them. They were essentially my dream shoes. I crossed the tent to accept the boots. "Thanks." A quick glance at the tag revealed they were the perfect size for my feet. I wasn't about to question my stroke of good fortune. To my delight, there was also a pair of thick socks tucked into one of the boots. Sitting down in the chair, I began the task of sliding my freezing feet into the socks and then proceeded to lace up the boots.

My nipples are hard, pressing visible points against the fabric, aching from the cold air and the scraping of my own movements. Below that, my waist is completely bare. Every time I twist to reach a spot on the floor, the muscles of my stomach ripple, my skin glowing pale gold in the shadows. I’m wearing another denim bum shorts but this is more like a belt than clothing. The edges are worn, crazy style, it dig into the tops of my thighs, and the back is so short that the lower curve of my ass is peeking out for the world to see. I traded the heels for heavy, black combat boots today. They make me feel grounded. They make me feel like I’m ready for a fight or a fuck, and right now, I’m not s