Hells Kitchen Black Jacket Novels & Stories

She asks in confusion. The sound of the lounge door opening and closing causes us both to go silent. Kyra walks into the kitchen and she is wearing different clothes. All her gold adornings are gone and she is now dressed in black pants and a black leather jacket that has multiple zips. Her wavy sun-kissed hair is put up in a high ponytail. "I take it you tried the sunlight spell," she says with a knowing smirk taking in the empty water bottles laying on the countertop.

Heaven, who had laid back in bed, jolts to a sitting position on seeing him, her eyes wide as she stares at him. “You… you— you’re…” The words die in her throat. How is the man not Ziason? All she can see is Ziason with long hair, gray eyes piercing across the room to her. As he approaches her, the heavy chain hanging down from his neck sways from side to side. He’s clad in a fitted black leather pants, a gray short-sleeved shirt tucked neatly in, layered by a black leather jacket. Black gloves hug his hands. A sheath of dagger hang from his thick belt, and the metal buckles on his boots ring softly with every step, resounding in Heaven’s head just as his scent hit her.

As Isabelle walked toward the kitchen, Shawn followed her with his eyes, totally mesmerized by the goddess who was cooking barefoot in his kitchen, looking so damn sexy with his white shirt on. Isabelle was moving around with a certain ease that left him speechless. Every time she was getting up on her toes or bent over to get something she needed, the shirt was moving, exposing her thighs, showing him a taste of what he would have later, for dessert. “The sauce for the pasta is almost ready,” Isabelle warned him after a few minutes. “I’m sorry, but for tonight, we will have to settle with a simple dish.” She put the cutlery, the glasses, and the plates on the kitchen counter and fixed his l

He shakes his head and waved me some clothing, setting them on the counter. "There are towels in the cupboard, I'll be in the kitchen," he states and leaves. I hurry and finish. I dressed in the clothes Nyx left. White leather pants with golden thread, an embroidered floral pattern down the sides, and a white flimsy shirt, the golden embroidery design covering where my breasts would show through. A pair of knee-high white boots completed the outfit. It was pretty but white, I shook my head knowing I'd get it dirty. I raced down to the kitchen and stopped abruptly seeing Nyx. My eyes scanned him entirely in appreciation. He was wearing all black with the same golden embroidery designs as what

The whole place was spotless, like no one had ever used it. Lorenzo slipped off his black jacket and draped it over a stool. He loosened his tie and unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. A tattoo peeked out across his chest—black wings curling around a dagger. His skin, warm and smooth, caught the low kitchen light. Lucia couldn’t help but stare. “You’re going to leave a hole in my chest if you keep looking at me like that,” he teased, flashing a grin. She quickly averted her gaze. “I wasn’t staring.”

Kaelen Blackrock. He wore a sharply tailored, minimalist black leather trench coat, the Soulfire Dagger—symbol of the Black Rock Clan’s supreme authority—hanging at his waist. Standing nearly two meters tall, his mere presence exuded a terrifying oppressive aura, thinning the air for a dozen meters around him. The low-ridden mounts at the edge of the square whimpered and dropped to the ground, not daring to lift their heads. His cold, golden eyes swept over the crowd, devoid of any emotion, as if he were staring at a pile of inanimate stones.

the leader of their council said. There was so much hatred in the way he spoke to me, and I wondered what he was talking about. "What did you find out?" I asked him. " You possessed a dark lunar magic and this has brought about some kind of darkness to our pack, we do not accept that kind of magic here and anyone who brings such to us will be punished" he said. It sounded like some lame joke, I am never with such kind of magic, what has this got to do with me?

"The northern patrols are coming off shift in ten minutes! I need fifty steaks plated right now!" Maids and junior cooks scrambled frantically over the slippery tile floor, carrying heavy metal pots and stacks of white ceramic plates. Walking along the far wall, Jensen kept his posture relaxed. He wore the standard black tactical uniform of the pack guard, his heavy boots thudding softly over the noise of the busy kitchen. He patted his front chest pocket, feeling the small, cold outline of the glass vial Valerie had given him. Spotting a solitary tray resting on a stainless steel prep station near the back ovens, Jensen slowed his pace.

“Great, now you sound like our trainers.” “There’s a difference, though. We grew up with each other. The guy with the gut wound could be my brother or my cousin, my best friend. Get the idea?” “So, who are these Hell Hounds to you then? So that we know.” “Aria Redgrave. First cousin and a couple of years younger than I am. She’s the computer expert I was talking about, Hal. Please don’t get on her nasty side, or she will waste your time with so much computer nastiness your head will spin. Then we have Devine Kelos. She’s relatively new to our team, but she’s got a nose that can hunt anyone or anything down in a blink of an eye. It’s scary to watch Hilda play a game with Devine. Hunt for the