Neckline Stubble Novels & Stories

Those slanted emerald-green eyes of his were drawing me in again, making me feel like I was boneless. Nico had a rakish way of dressing, the buttons on his dress shirt left undone, his tattoos peeking through. His ginger hair was slicked back, but he had a day’s worth of stubble on his face, and my body remembered the feel of it against my bare back. A lazy smile lifted one side of his lips like he read my mind, his nostrils flared somewhat.

when he did not respond, I sluggishly lifted my aspect and goggled at him. His eyes hold no emotion. His lips were set in a moue and his nose was shuddering. There was no denying that the nascence stood in front of me was handsome. He'd short brown hair which messy and sticking up in places, nearly like he would been running his hands through it or he'd been gripping it. He'd a sharp jawline and stubble each over, it had obviously been a while since he'd a slice but it suited him, it gave him a rugged look. His eyes were stunning, nearly witching

The clubhouse was booming with some good Rock ‘n’ Roll music. His statue was slim, with numerous tattoos on his arms, chest, and back. He had tinted green hair that stood upright at exactly the middle of his hair. His lower eyes were lined darkly with 'Kajal'. He looked extremely tough as his jawline was set straight. A stripper passed by him and he unabashedly spanked her ass. She gave him the middle finger and went about her duties.

Occasionally, he would swing towards the wall of windows behind him, staring out without really seeing the magnificent view of the dusky sky. He rubbed at his jaw, grimacing as his fingers encountered the rough stubble of less than a day’s growth of beard. No doubt, if he looked in a mirror, he would see the dark stubble on his chin - definitely needed to shave tonight before picking Nicky up for their dinner date or she would tease him endlessly about how much he resembled a Neanderthal.

he whispered, his breath fanning my face, "move my cigarette." I reached for his cigarette with shaking hands, removing it from his lips and I watched as he licked his bottom lip. They were naturally pink and I don't think I've ever seen his face from so close. I looked at his face, his trimmed stubble and his perfect pointy nose. He looked like a model with not a single blemish in sight.

With a strong jawline and a well-maintained stubble, he exuded a rugged charm that contrasted with his composed demeanor. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, the deep blue fabric hugged his athletic frame, subtly emphasizing his physique. The crisp white shirt beneath complemented his tanned complexion, while the loosened tie hinted at a carefree charm. There was an undeniable magnetism about Linc, an effortless charisma that commanded attention without him even trying. As Adrienne sized him up, annoyance and intrigue warred within her. His unwavering persistence only served to make him a more compelling figure in her already tumultuous evening.

I don’t think they know who is dancing with whom. ‘You’re a star. What shall I wear? Something nineteenth century, French, would be good.’ He produced a suit worthy of an aristocrat at midnight in the Pigalle. Then he reminded me. ‘You will have to do something about the facial hair.’ ‘Won’t a beard do?’ ‘Make-up stubble is better. Go on YouTube. There are several advice videos. Here is a mixture to make it feel slightly rough, as though you haven’t shaved for a few days.’

I giggled, attempting to halt his kisses as he continued his assault on my neck and jaw. "I think you might be right," he breathed in my scent, his eyes filled with desire. "I need it more than he does." "Sebastian, cut it out," I pleaded, laughter escaping me uncontrollably. "Your stubble is tickling me." "Oh?" He glanced at me, seeking an honest response. "Yes, it definitely does." "Then I won't be stopping today," he chuckled, gently guiding me onto the sofa, causing me to land flat on my back. This time, he intentionally brushed his stubble against my skin as he showered me with kisses.

My gaze shifted to my side, and the words died in my throat. Stiles stepped out, steam following him into the room. He only had a towel wrapped low around his waist. His skin was damp, and droplets of water clung to the muscles of his chest. The new style— that fresh buzz cut— a striking pale blonde. But what caught me off guard was the ink. He didn't have any, according to what I last remembered. But now, a huge part of his broad chest was dedicated to tattoos, which made him look sharper, older, and dangerously handsome.

I bargained once more, uncertain if I should really go through with shaving his stubble. But he just pulled me closer, his hands fitting perfectly around my waist. "But I want to," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "I want to make you comfortable." Wow, I was torn. I mean, I adore his rugged look with those sexy stubbles. But when we get close, those tiny prickles always get in the way, especially when we're lost in each other. So, Rue, being the sweetheart he is, decided to shave them off.