Risky Boots Novels & Stories

I don’t see him behind me anymore, smiling to myself, I think I’m sly. Then the spike of these goddess-forsaken shoes betrayed me. I stumbled to the ground, skidding my skin across the hard forest floor. I hiss out in pain but make quick work to get these damn boots off. Throwing them aside and hopping back up, I’m whipped back to the ground in a single second.

I was at risk of being caught if any of the pack members decided to go for a run on that side of the woods. Somehow, by sheer luck, I made it out of the pack without getting cut, and even though it wasn’t a bag full of clothes, the night dress had helped hide my nakedness a great deal, and I had long given up on finding a slipper to wear. Over time, I’ve gotten used to walking barefoot and ignoring the way the dried fallen tree branches, twigs, and any sort of object pricked the sole of my foot. There are far more dangerous things to worry about when you are alone and five months pregnant in no man's land.

Lawson waited for the situation to unfold. “Mr. Hawthorne...” Jasmine whispered, her hand hesitating to stop the man’s actions. The high heels were successfully removed. Tuan Hawthorne held her right ankle. “She forced herself to wear tight shoes, causing blisters on both heels.” Jasmine’s heart raced, unsure whether her reaction was due to Mr. Hawthorne’s concern or the sudden touch. Dr. Lawson quickly took over Jasmine’s ankle. “Why force yourself for the sake of beauty? It’s clearly unhealthy and not good!”

“I will call you if I stop by.” “I will call you if I stop by,” I mimicked him with a low tone of voice while making a face. Womanizer! Since he seemed too busy with his woman, I stood and entertained myself by looking at the different footwear. It was still incomprehensible for me to see that there were shoes that had almost five inches heels. Wouldn’t it be dangerous to wear them? With just one wrong step, one could sprain her ankles, fall on her knees, and worse, fall on the ground face first. Grrr… just by thinking about such scenarios made me shiver.

At this moment, regret seeped through my veins, making me wish I didn't get intimate with him. I knew what was at stake, yet I lost control. I shouldn't– “This request may be the strangest you've ever heard from someone who has minutes to live. But can we have sex one more time?” Rocco's question snapped me out of my thoughts. The gun in my hand now felt heavy, my clit shamelessly throbbing to the idea. I hated how much I wanted him inside me again. But I couldn't afford mistakes. Tonight was my only chance. If I didn't return to Don Niko with Rocco's head, he'd take mine in replacement.

“So, I assumed you were either kidnapped, dead, or screwing a new guy since you’re so lonely.” I almost choked on my breath. “What? God. No, Avy.” “Relax, I’m joking. But seriously, you need to work on your security system. Your door was unlocked. Are you planning on starting a charity giveaway? Because anyone could walk in and steal your TV or those luxurious silk designs you just bought.” I laugh, shutting the door and dropping my purse on the counter. “Girl, what are you even doing here? You know I’m married, right?”

"We’re leaving the territory." My heart leaped. "Where?" I asked, my face lighting up. I didn't care if it was a funeral; I was getting out. "You’ll see," he said, turning toward the subterranean garage. "Don't keep the engine waiting." I pried open the box and gasped. Inside was a pair of the most exquisite tactical-chic boots I’d ever seen. Tall, obsidian leather, supple as a second skin, with silver buckles that gleamed like moonlight at the ankles.

DAMN, her feet hurt. GERRI knew better than to hike the three-level mall in four-inch heels. But birthday presents must be bought, torture shoes or not. She’d just wear flip-flops the rest of the week—as long as she wasn’t meeting clients, anyway.

His deep voice trails off menacingly, leaving absolutely no room for doubt. I raise an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Let my mind guess—your boots are from the Blackfang Rogue Pack, Gerard’s crew, right?"

Cali spun and headed toward the back of the store, where rows of shoes and boots rested on metal shelves, arranged by sizes. “What size are you?” “Eight and a half.” “Ooh, ooh! Check these out!” Cali held up a pair of above the ankle red leather boots with four inch spike heels. Leesa grimaced. The boots were so not her. “No way. They’ll make me look like a hooker.” Cali looked down at the boots and grinned. “Yeah, they might be a bit too hot for you. I think I’ll keep these puppies for myself.” “Can’t I just wear my black leather knee-highs?” Leesa asked.