Lewis Hamilton Hair Novels & Stories

"What kind of family did your mother have?" "I don't know anything about them," I said. Not a lie. Just incomplete. "Is it important?" "No, no," she waved it off lightly, then smiled again. "It's just that you have such long, beautiful hair. It would be nice if Remus had your hair color as well." She giggled. Remus, little traitor that he was, giggled too and clapped his hands in his chair like he understood every word. He looked exactly like Levi the older he got. Thick lashes, dark hair, that unmistakable bone structure. Levi practically glowed whenever anyone noticed. I glanced at the Duke—

He billowed around in a white gown and stopped next to Teddy, putting a hand on his shoulder. Teddy craned his neck around to look up at him as he stood, eyes closed, a mountain of hair and gown. Gorham’s hairstyle could best be described as ‘interesting’. On top, was a bundle of greying, bouncy curls, at the back of which hung long, straight, teased, and dry strands which rounded out like a platypus tail. It clearly needed an enormous amount of maintenance. It reminded Teddy of the over-the-top hairstyles of some 1980s popstars.

With each step, the skirt swirled around him, showcasing his confidence and individuality. His shoulder-length hair was expertly gathered and styled into a sleek, low bun at the nape of his neck. Each strand was carefully smoothed back, accentuating the natural shine and texture of his locks. A few loose tendrils framed his face delicately, adding a touch of softness to the overall look. Luke stood out effortlessly, a true embodiment of style and grace amidst the gala's elite.

The wind made a mess of his hair that had grown a good length down his nape in loose waves since I’d last seen him. Something about him standing between his Bentley and his jet made him look Alpha-and-Omega sexy. A sexiness that couldn’t be competed with. A sexiness he owned. His intimidating impeccability had me nervously smoothing my hand over my dress and raking my fingers through my hair, feeling like I was not deserving of such perfection. Before the bidding that morning, I’d made one of my rare trips to the hair salon and gotten my wild curls straightened for a first. It felt lighter and easier to manage, except for the fact it had stretched a couple more inches down the entire length

There was a discreet buzz of conversation and the hum of well-heeled Londoners doing justice to the chef. She picked him out at once, at a secluded round corner table, bathed in soft candlelight. Guy Hamilton. That face had been etched on her memory. Hair the colour of old, polished mahogany, just long enough to show a slight wave. Medium olive skin. The kind of nose and chin that lesser mortals don’t mess with. And the kind of looks to make your worst female enemy hate you even more if he happened to have his arm around your waist at a party.

No previous lover had ever given her such pleasure and she was startled by the realisation of her body’s possible potential. When Lewis was finally spent he gently straightened Harriet’s legs and lay down next to her, turning her so that they could look into each other’s eyes. He smiled and she smiled back at him, clearly as sated as he’d Jhoped. ‘I told you it would be good,’ he murmured, letting his hands run through her hair and noticing the difference in texture from Rowena’s. Where hers was thick and curly, Harriet’s was straight and much finer, but he liked the softness of it and the lack of hair lacquer which Rowena always used to excess.

He didn't answer anymore, he combed it and bonded it on the top of my head and cut it. He was still grimacing when he cut it, it's obvious that he regrets my hair but I don't care. This is my hair anyway not hers. He cut the rest of my long hair that wasn't tied up until it completely became mohok. "It took him a while to wake up." "I never imagined her with this hairstyle, but it suits her perfectly." "That's right. It looks like Miley Cyrus is the only peg." "Why is he also broken-hearted?" "What do you think? Could it be that he is just tripping that's why he's acting like this? What is he just addicted to?"

He look like a seaweed man who seems to be in no good mood for he wasn't in the water. Lewis, pick up the can who would have the ability to change the hair color for person in an instant he sprayed and right at this moment his hair was color blonde. “Your hair color looks like the one that your driver has. How irritating it is for my eyes. Why not change it hair color of yours? You look like some chalk, if I may say.” “Oh, so you don’t like Herald in the very least ? I would prefer this kind of Hair color though..” “Sure, sure. If you want to be seen like an old man then. Do whatever you want. Grandpa.”

“It’s already too helmet-y. We need texture. Something that doesn’t look like his mom still cuts it with a bowl.” “I do not use a bowl!” I protested, my voice muffled by the cape. They both ignored me. Chloe ran her fingers through my hair, which I’ll admit is one of my few decent features. Thick, soft, and black as ink. “He’s got great hair, Jax. Lots to work with. So, you’re thinking more of a textured crop? Keep the length on top, loose and messy?” “Yeah, messy. But like, expensive messy. Not ‘I just rolled out of bed and gave up on life’ messy, which is his current brand.”

"No, I've heard nothing, but we have our ears peeled and will pass anything on that would benefit you..." Another couple comes up behind Leo, encouraging him to leave. A tall Alpha, I presume, reaches for my hand, first bringing it up to his lips before letting my hand go. He's built like a tank with muscles in places I never thought possible, and his hair is long, down to his shoulders, and he's devilishly handsome. That hair, though, is shiny and wavy and mesmerises as the light hits it, but I'm soon pulled back to reality when Damian squeezes my leg hard enough to shriek.