Onyx Shirt Novels & Stories

A raised a brow with a stroll in my mouth as he positioned the camera of his iphone fifteen promox towards me. He took a quick picture of me and when back to typing on his phone. He put his phone down on the table beside after a few seconds and suddenly the smell of after rain pin rushed through my nostril, forcing my eyes to the doorway. I froze when I saw Orion walking towards us in a black pant with a matching top. A t-shirt that clenched to his physicals like a second skin. His deep heavy muscles popping out of the dress in a way that felt dangerouse and pleading at the same time.

It was no less exciting than when the two of them had entered earlier. Xoan was a little puzzled and watched the two people walking in quietly. A beaming Sheldon and… Yaslyn? The dress Yaslyn wore had a short black skirt—seductive yet charming. Xoan's gaze turned icy. The dress he gave her was a white floor-length off-the-shoulder gown. She must really detest him to come in with Sheldon and not wear the dress he picked for him. Sheldon's sharp eyes spotted Xoan, and he smiled brilliantly. "You came quite early."

As the client peeled back the packaging and beheld the gentle hue and meticulous craftsmanship, her eyes widened with delight. “I love this color! What do you call it?” “Oatmeal,” Isabella replied. “Would you like to try it on?” The client eagerly extracted the gown, revealing an accompanying undershirt. “What’s this?” “This is a specially designed undershirt to complement the oatmeal - colored cashmere coat,” Isabella explained. “If you don’t mind, it’s my token of appreciation. However, as a complimentary item, it may not match the exact quality of the coat, but it still holds a touch of the style that’s become my signature, influenced by the beauty and mystery of the werewolf world.”

Dad laughs. I grab some black jeans and under garments. When I open the Nike box, I am utterly shocked. These custom spiderman air force ones are everything I needed. I pull the shirt out of the box, and I am so giddy. It is a characteristic version of me and Onyx in spiderman suits. The back of the shirt says, “Spider gang” and has all of the families’ names on the back. I quickly get the shirt on and head out to the backyard where the party is in full swing.

Onyx had never had so much trouble putting one foot in front of the other. But while an ass like that was right there in front of him, he had no interest in moving anyway. As Tasha was bent over riffling through a shelf of canned foods, Onyx simply gazed at her ass in awe. What he wouldn’t give to know what kind of underwear she wore under that skintight denim.

Puzzled at his behavior, she stretched her shirt at her belly and inspected it when Orion came out of his room. “Orion, is there something wrong with my shirt?” “A transparent white chiffon shirt, 3 buttons undone with white spaghetti strap inner top, slim-fitting black jeans, and a calf-high black boots? Nothing !!!” he exclaimed coldly and walked past her “She is testing me every minute of the day” a low mumble spelled behind his teeth.

I wore a minimalist, perfectly tailored black crepe blazer dress that accentuated my sharp posture, paired with a signature bold scarlet lipstick. On my left hand, the legendary Hartley family diamond ring caught the harsh morning sunlight, sending cold, brilliant fractals dancing across the room. Every detail of this environment was chosen to convey one undeniable fact: the era of accommodating compliance was dead. The heavy mahogany connecting door opened with a soft click, and Knox stepped into my space. He had discarded his traditional corporate jacket, wearing a crisp charcoal silk shirt with the top buttons undone, revealing the rugged, tanned skin of his collarbone. His towering, broa

I replied confidently and took the ointment from her hands. She nodded, still reluctant, but stepped away a little. I took a deep breath and slowly walked to Onyx. “Onyx. Let me apply the ointment on your wounds.” I asked him cautiously. He growled in displeasure, sniffing a little. I rolled my eyes and slowly approached him. I was wearing Sylvester’s t-shirt now. Of course, Onyx didn’t like it. I took a scoop from the bottle and slowly rubbed it on his shoulder blades, which had a new burn mark in front of me.

Even though I couldn't look at him, I was able to take in what he was wearing today. Today, Alexander wore a charcoal gray dress shirt and a pair of black slacks, held up with a brown belt. His long shirt was rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tattooed forearms. His dark blonde hair was in orderly chaos, poked in every direction as if it were deliberate. To put it simply, Alexander looked good.

The fresh scent of his aftershave, mixed with the aroma of his sun-warmed skin, drifted toward her, swamping her with longing. Damn him. To top it off, Quinn had worn her favorite shirt, the one she’d bought him for Christmas, navy blue with pearl-snap buttons and white stitching around the pocket flaps. The cut of the material showcased his wide shoulders and broad chest. The sleeves hugged his muscled biceps, every bulge earned the hard way from manual labor required to run a ranch. The dark fabric emphasized his coloring, his blackish-brown hair, the long, thick, sooty lashes surrounding his mesmerizing blue eyes.