Low Taper Fade Black Male Novels & Stories

The fall sun was a little unforgiving to my eyes, so I slipped on my black shades and watched Jordan as he came walking down majestically. Ruffled hair, white dress shirt, black slags, and shiny black Tom Ford leather dress shoes. A black with gold accents was strapped around his narrow waist, and my man looked like a bloody meal. "You are glaring." he intoned before stopping in front of me. I broke my gaze and focused it at the farthest gate where a white beast was drawing closer unhurriedly. Jordan let out t whisper of appreciation, and I smirked.

I let my eyes skim his body from bottom to top. Instead of his normal rough combat boots, he had on shiny black dress shoes. His long legs were wrapped around black slacks that fit him perfectly. They weren’t his normal dress pants that were usually loose. They weren’t as tight either, but from the look on the front, I just knew that if he turned around, I’d find a nice view from the back. His top half was covered in a tailored sky black that matched his hair color. I knew it was tailored because besides the fine material, it clung to his muscular body perfectly with no extra space. I could tell he had a white shirt underneath that was unbuttoned three buttons down. I knew his blue eyes woul

And the length of his shirt also covers half of my thighs. The door opened slowly, accompanied by Theo's masculine pheromone, making me ponder. I smiled happily as he stepped closer to me. This morning, my Alpha was so handsome, despite wearing only a white short-sleeve T-shirt and black training pants. His black hair is not combed so that it leaves a sexy impression and looks younger.

A man said, irritated. We both looked at the man. He stood tall, showing dominant power. His hair was black with a few silver highlights showing he was more mature in age, maybe around my father’s age. The man sported a well-maintained beard. It looked soft. His honey gold eyes looked as if they glowed. “Sorry, boss, it won’t happen again,” Zade apologized but then eyed me with a smirk. “Leave us be,” The man shooed Zade away.

"It's delicious! If you ask me, pancakes should be cooked to this degree to taste good, crispy on the outside." His praise made me smile broadly. "How much is it? You're not going to ask for an outrageous price, right?" The boy looked at me with wide eyes as if he had thought of something. "No, I said it's free, just as a good start." When the boy was leaving, he suddenly turned back and waved at me, saying, "Miss, my name is Jack Thomson." I watched him walk away, and in a daze, I realized how far away university felt.

He must really have a thing for black. Aiden, standing at an imposing 6’3”, is the embodiment of a rebellious bad boy. His silver platinum hair is styled in a messy, carefree manner, with strands falling over his forehead in a way that seems intentionally undone. His piercing gray eyes are filled with mischief and intrigue, framed by thick lashes that make his gaze impossible to look away from. His sharp jawline, slightly hollow cheeks, and perfectly arched brows give him an edgy and striking appearance. Aiden’s tattoos snake up his neck and arms. Aiden wore a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos, paired with slim-fit black trousers and leather boots. He w

His short-cropped hair had a geometric fade, his eyeliner was a sharp, lethal graphic wing, and he exuded a level of high-voltage, unbothered sass that instantly commanded the room. ​He scanned the crowded studio, his eyes locking onto our table. He glided over, sliding his Telfar bag onto the stool right next to mine with a fluid, dramatic flick of his wrist. ​"Please tell me the syllabus isn't as tragic as the lighting in the hallway," he whispered, his voice dripping with premium, melodic sarcasm as he looked at me. ​My eyes immediately dropped to his bag. "Oh my gosh, is that the chocolate medium Telfar? It is absolutely gorgeous."

It would either be him or the old man. He felt more irritated as the rain poured heavily in quick succession, ululating in a groaning voice as it watched them in the forest, preparing for combat. He relaxed a bit and let his shoulders fall down. He waited to see the old man come forward with a fierce attack; the old man did. The old man raised his machete and slashed. He raised his own and deflected the attack. Metal hit metal and a weak clanging noise followed. The old man fuddled but managed to reinforce himself. The rain poured hard, strong with a great moan. It seemed the old man would lose, that he would be crushed and chopped off into pieces like fire-wood.

’ He said, ‘Anti-anxiety pills. ‘Dad… Why do you have to take them?’ ‘Come, let us sit down. I think I should tell you everything.’ ... ‘The whole consignment is rejected. Every colour is fading. All t-shirts are from one batch. After every wash the colour runs and the colour of the t-shirt changes.’ Dad told me the problem he was facing, pointing to the t-shirts lying on the table. ‘That is serious. What did the suppliers say?’ I asked.

The sight before her instantly made her weak in the knees leaving her speechless. The guy stood before her in a white t-shirt with a black leather jacket over it, black pants that fit perfectly over his thick, muscular thighs, and black shoes. He had black hair nicely parted with fades to the sides and back of his head. He wore tinted sunglasses blocking his eyes and the right side of his nose laid a sexy nose piercing. His lips were thin but still plumped and he had the sharpest jawline she has ever seen, his neck was covered with different designs of tattoo and so was his hands.