Hot Brunettes Novels & Stories

100 YEARS AGO: DESTINY Hunter stiffened. “A plan? What the hell do you need a plan for with me? Why are you here?” Brynn stood up and walked over to him. She tossed her long, dark brown hair—the same color as the rest of the Brentwoods'—over her shoulders and blinked at him with Brentwood blue eyes.

Grabbing Sinead’s hips he whispered something filthy about a present that made her face colour beetroot red. I couldn’t help smiling as I watched them. As though I was having fun by watching their happiness. Sinead’s brunette hair was up high, flicking wildly as she twisted in Nathan’s hold, I realised she, Cherry and Roxie were styled identically. All in high ponytails with a thick black band, all wearing red lipstick, despite needing to shift soon, all wearing brightly coloured neon sports bras. I found my head tipping in curiosity as I observed. Roxie really must be flying so high to have the queen bee copy her.

Spotted with Mystery Brunette at Carbone. By Friday morning there are four more sets from two additional locations, Lara and two other women whose names I don't know, all dark-haired, all photographed at strategic angles by a photographer Callum hired through three layers of professional distance. The internet does what the internet does, which is speculate with great enthusiasm and no particular investment in accuracy. #SterlingSavage returns. #VivianDeservesBetter trends beside it.

Beautiful, polished, each one unique in their elegance and allure. There were women with hair as golden as sunlight, some dark and mysterious, with ebony skin that seemed to catch the moonlight just right. Others had bronzed, caramel skin, with striking dark eyes that smoldered even from a distance. Tall, slim women with sculpted cheekbones and feline grace strode confidently, while curvier women with bright, inviting smiles followed behind, moving with ease like they belonged here. A few petite women with wide, doe-like eyes and a shy, skittish demeanor clung to the arms of their taller friends, clearly uncomfortable yet just as stunning.

CYRUS Miss Bruns stared at me with eyes so green, they reminded me of emeralds. Once more, I was struck by how gorgeous she was. Her wavy, red hair fell loose around her shoulders and stray strands caressed her pale face. A smattering of light freckles crossed her pixy nose, and that body…good Lord, it should be a crime for a woman to possess so many luscious curves. It was a shame she had such a mouth on her, along with an annoying personality. She might have been able to tempt me, otherwise. As it was, though, all I wanted was for her to get out of my house before the headache she’d given me grew worse.

From the second-story window of my home office, I stare down at the driveway and watch the hot brunette climb out of her pink Jeep. I've never seen anyone more beautiful in my thirty-two years. Beautiful and young. Carefree. Bubbly. Social. In other words, my opposite. Harriet.

The man mountain is wearing black joggers that hang low enough to make my internal monologue slide to horny new places. His hair will be my downfall. Full undercut, long mohawk braided in a thick rope that hangs to the back of his thighs. It resembles a spine he tore out as a trophy. Tattooed runes crawl up the sides of his skull, curling behind his ears. I want to taste them. Down Frankie. It’s boiling in here now. I pull the scrunchie from my wrist and stretch up to tie my thick, annoyingly unruly curls back off my neck. The baby hair underneath is stuck to my neck sweat.

Then someone calls over, grabbing out attention. Three girls approach us. One with dirty blond hair and brown eyes with a busty and strong figure, another with beautifully darker skin and short curly hair and brown eyes with a curvier figure than the rest, and finally a brunet with a blond ombre and creamy pale skin and chestnut-colored eyes with a more frail but healthy body. They were all very beautiful, like a trio from a modeling agency.

Jackson thought about the bold bright yellow suit Leonard Strowman had on. I haven’t seen lapels that big on a suit since the seventies. He waited about another eight minutes before both back doors opened at the same time. Bruce walked next to a long haired brunette in a tight white dress. They led the way for the house of ill reputes that followed them. One African American woman’s hair was so high and greased it looked like a ski slope was on top of her head. Two young ladies wore the highest high heels a woman could wear outside of a men’s club. They wore make-up, miniskirts, and flashy tops showing their waists. They were attractive. Of course, Mr. Strowman was with them. And – an Africa

Mr Henry points to Bruna. We share the same surname. "You'll be working with Mr Bradford." "Yes!" Bruna exclaims, startling the whole class. I'm so jealous of her right now. Working with her boyfriend, Josh, on a project. How lucky is this girl? Everything always goes her way. Bruna is so perfect. She has a perfect bad-boy boyfriend, who loves her to the moon and back. They have mind-blowing perfect sex. She has two very in love, very supportive, very caring, very rich, very perfect parents. She's a brunette, who has perfect hair, perfect skin and a great body that she doesn't work out for by the way. She's an incredibly pretty girl who gets what she wants when she wants even when she doesn'