Hells Kitchen Black Jacket Novels & Stories

He placed the tray on a low bench, placed it over her stretched legs, and turned away immediately, excusing himself to take a bath, and returning a few minutes later dressed in the most regal and yet intimidating attire Eirika had ever seen and it was all in black. His high-neck black jacket carried the emblem of the Black Wolves Pack emblazoned on the front, the buttons lining one side of it were all pure gold and he paired the top with dark pants and boots. If Eirika thought he looked handsome and imposing before he was even more so now and was exuding power and strength. He looked exactly like who he was – the alpha of the black wolves. His muscles rippled beneath the fabric as he moved.

"I'm afraid Jaden, I'm afraid to remember more, I don't want to remember what my mind is trying to protect me from, enough of what I've seen for now. » He approached the bed, buttoned his black shirt, sat on its edge, addressed her in a calm tone, trying to reassure her heart, telling her that no matter what the truth was, he would not allow her to collapse and fall into the abyss of darkness, that he would chase her demons and the spectra of her hell and assassinate them all. "I will not rest until I find them. Today we will enter the Black Forest, and we may find a clue to their cell somewhere there that we were unaware of. »

Krister asked, looking at his tablet still before walking to the back room. “Black? She doesn’t-- I mean didn’t wear anything else?” she asked, her eyebrows meeting in the middle confused. “Don’t tell me she’s one of those people…” “Yes, specifically black clothing. They’re hot in the day but you disappear in the night. That’s what she always said to me.” Krister disappeared in the back to get something whilst Rojean was left there to contemplate on her own how she was going to pull the act off if she was a bad liar herself.

He raised his hands in defeat. ~~~~~~~~~~~ I left school after soccer practice back home, I raced to my room flipping my cupboard open, I pulled out my black biker outfit which consisted of: A pair of black booth A pair of black skinny jeans A black T-shirt A black leather jacket A pair of black cyclist glove And my favourite sunglasses. I took a quick shower, and trip on my outfit, I stood in front of the mirror brushing my hair. "Yo bro you look like hell!" Jack plop on my bed.

I tugged it on, the fabric too big, too soft, and tried not to think about the fact that it smelled exactly like him, expensive cologne, smoke, and sin. When I padded out of the bedroom, the low sound of a skillet and the faint hum of jazz pulled me toward the kitchen. He was there. Bare-chested, because of course he was. He had grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp from a shower, and the most obnoxiously calm expression known to man as he flipped something on the stove. And because the universe hated me, his sweatpants left nothing to imagination. “Look who we have here.” He glanced up at me,a smirk already forming. “Morning, Mrs. Blackwood.”

“You can open your eyes now.” My eyes fluttered open as I took in the very bright light of the kitchen we were in. I looked around and noticed the royal Siegel by the corner and knew that we were at the royal kitchen. I had thankfully chosen a black dress, which matched with my black skin according to Isa. Chase had complimented my nose ring and my hair styled in short afro by Isa. Chase had on a black suit, with white inner and slacks. He looked perfect, his hair gelled and tied into a bun.

He’s holding me so close to him! “Tsk, the delusional duo” Zorien tusks aside, turning to leave with Ashton and a seething Kitra who walks up to join them. I don’t think he’s ever dressed in bright colors at all. Decked in an all-black outfit with an expensive black leather jacket on top, it’s like he’s living up to his dark nature. “Should we go?” I hear Ciel ask and turn my neck to the side, meeting gazes with him.

I queried, pointing at the kitchens exit. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave if you give me some more meat and stew to head home with,” he said with a warm smile. He had dark blue marble eyes and black silky hair. He wore a black leather jacket and black leather pants. As I got more and more absorbed into his features, emotions I never knew existed started to well up inside me. “No, I can’t let you have any of these; I would get in serious trouble. Please, you have to leave now."I replied, turning away from him. I couldn’t let myself be absorbed by his charms.

Her leather jacket was gone, leaving her in her red tank top, the fabric torn at the shoulder, and her auburn hair hung in her face, the silver streaks catching the torchlight. Zane Blackthorn sat on his throne, his lean frame coiled with menace, his amber eyes glinting like a predator’s in the dim light. His shaved head gleamed, the claw-mark tattoos snaking up his arms a stark contrast to his pale skin, and he wore a sleeveless black tunic, the fabric stained with blood. His fingers drummed a slow rhythm on the armrest, each tap echoing like a heartbeat in the cavern’s stillness. Around him, his pack lingered, their eyes averted, their postures tense, but Rhea stood at his side, her cruel

And in the center of it all was Killian Blackwood. He was leaning against his bike, his long legs crossed at the ankles. He wore his heavy leather motorcycle jacket, the collar popped against the chill. He was rolling a lighter across his knuckles, click, flash, click, flash. The flame illuminated his sharp jawline and the predatory gleam in his dark eyes. "Look who decided to be a good girl," Jason mocked, slamming his beer bottle down on the workbench. "I told you she'd show, Killian. She's terrified of you."