Risky Boots Novels & Stories

I brought out the boots and a sheet of paper fell out. The boots have been customized to help you grip the surface better. Rubber soles would slide you off the course especially in this weather. Sometimes the key to having victory is a pair of shoes. Remember, the right way isn't the only way and courage isn't the absence of fear, it's the judgement that something else is worth fighting for. Yours sincerely, A. I rushed outside to look for the man who had brought the box inside. I scanned around frantically, my eyes roaming every face.

A bold masculine choice for a sexy masculine captor. Who knows how many of his female targets he had captured this way. I was one of a thousand, perhaps. I tucked the oversized shirt into the denim jean, making more adjustments with the heavy brown belt to fit my small frame. His boots were inches longer than my small feet could fit into them. Nonetheless, I dipped my feet into them, smiling at the comfort I derived from the warmth that greeted my toes. I tapped my toes against the inside of the boots playfully, sizing myself up in them.

he said cryptically. Shaino did not understand what his mentor meant. But he didn't get time to dwell on what Russell meant. Because they both heard a very faint noise of approaching footsteps. Those footsteps are hard as if the person is wearing heavy boots. The people in the rain forest prefer to walk with bare feet or they use footwear made of bamboo. But boots around this area are rare. Only people from the outside world come there wearing fancy footwear. "Looks like someone is coming. Another traveler, maybe" Shaino shared his opinion.

He’s going to strike. Run, run, run, run, run! I whirl on my heel, trip, and pitch forward, my kneecaps grinding as they hit the ground. Behind me, I hear a splash. I scrabble back to my feet and bolt for the woods, arms pumping, my skirt trapping my legs, hampering my stride. I hike it above my knees. Damn these boots. I curl my toes to keep from slip-sliding inside them. What was I thinking to wear these boots, this skirt?

We are both breathing heavy. Then he tears them completely and pulls them down and off me. I step out of them still wearing my black, low-heeled boots that I bought in Vegas. They have small diamante studs on the heel. My favorite. “Fuck me, you look sexy with your jeans in tatters at your ankles and your boots on.” He wastes no time as he drops to his knees and parts my legs slightly. His knuckles graze my buttercup, lace panties. His nose goes to my core.

The night no one must ever talk about. My stomach twisted. I walked toward the boots slowly, as if they could jump at me. I crouched, my fingers trembling as I reached for them. They were still dirty. Still stained. Still holding the truth. If the inspection team saw this… I shook my head hard. No. They wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let them. I grabbed the boots and tossed them on the floor in front of the fireplace. I poured an entire jar of oil on them, covering the leather until it glistened. Then I lit a match. My hand shook so much I nearly dropped it.

With how I was acting before and after I went inside the boutique, and with the way Raine and I were dressed, wearing black and brown leather jackets, black sunglasses, and caps, anyone would definitely be suspicious of us. "Let's get out of here; with the way the salespeople and cashier were staring at us, it looks like just one wrong move from us and they'll be calling the cops," Raine murmured to me as she pulled me out of the boutique. I stopped complaining and let Raine lead me to the third floor of the mall, where the food park is located.

"As much as I hate to interrupt the show, boss, we have a tight schedule. I found some high-end, reinforced combat boots in the back section. Black leather, steel shanks, lightweight." ​He stepped directly into my line of sight, effectively blocking a portion of the mirror. He crouched down in front of me, his half-open jacket swinging forward to reveal the sharp lines of his chest and the dark ink tracing his collarbones. He picked up one of the heavy boots, holding it out toward my foot. ​"Let's see if we can get your sizing right, Feisty," Daniel murmured, his voice dropping into a quiet, unexpectedly smooth register as he took off the current boot I was wearing, his fingers brushing the

Is that what I’m seeing? I press my fingers to my temple, willing it all to stop. Mum holds up a pair of boots. “These are cute, right?” “Yeah. Super cute,” I nod and she gives me a knowing look. “Harper, you haven’t even looked at them.” I glance at the boots. They’re black leather with chunky heels and silver buckles. Definitely my style, or at least they used to be. But all I can focus on is the way the threads are tugging at my mind, each one demanding attention, each one louder and more insistent than the last.

I соugh аt the раіn сhоkіng mу hеаd, аnd trу tо stop thе rеtсhіng іn my mouth аnd mу jеrkіng аrоund on the flооr. Thе bottom оf thе реrѕоn’ѕ boots іѕ close nоw. It’s jеt blасk ѕtіlеttоѕ thаt соuld оnlу bеlоng to оnе person.