Sinful Shirt Novels & Stories

I continue reading the letter. "You show everyone the fake you but I know the devil hiding behind that pretty face. Here's your gift a little treasure hunt. Those fingers were attached to people you supposedly care about. They are each in separate locations with a death sentence to be bestowed upon them. They will pay for your sins dear Lana. Choose who you want to save. Burn the picture of the one who'll pay for your sins today. You have 5 minutes to decide. Once you've reached your decision, quietly leave and make your way to the location. Don't bring along your brigadier or let your darling husband know of this. If you do I will kill both of them instantly. Do not double cross me or I'll

If I didn’t bring down Norman Malcovich and his family, all these silk and gold gifts were just decorations in a lie. I pulled a pair of dark jeans, slid my leg into them slowly, and zipped up. I didn’t even need to look in the mirror to know it fitted perfectly. I grabbed a white shirt, buttoned up fast, and turned to the bed to grab the towel I had dropped earlier. I flung it toward the edge of the bed. I could feel the camera still watching, so I looked back and smiled sweetly, knowing Marcus was probably sitting in a room somewhere with coffee in one hand and a wicked grin on his lips.

He rummaged through a bag of clothes. "Wear this!" he ordered crudely after tossing a silky clothing to her face. Scared out of her wits, she tremulously donned the slinky slip of a dress. She felt naked because it had spaghetti straps and a deep cleavage. The color was red and the fabric was see-through. "Put up your arms above your head!"

He removed the top part of his uniform. When his shirt came off completely, his bare upper body was revealed. I didn’t expect him to have such a nice body. His skin looked smooth, and his abs were clearly defined. I even caught myself counting them. Six. I felt oddly disappointed when he finally put on the oversized shirt I gave him. Suddenly, all the blood rushed to my face, making it feel hot. I lowered my head, hiding behind my hair. What am I doing? Am I blushing?

"I'm so proud of you, darling. Really proud. And don't blame my hands; you look so hot in that dress. I love the dress, but seeing you naked is best." I giggled despite myself and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. He wasn't wrong about the dress. Natasha had insisted on it, wanting us to dress to impress. The sleek, elegant white bodycon dress clung to my body like a second skin. It had a sleeveless design with a deep V-neckline, hugging my curves and tapering down to mid-calf length, ending in a small mermaid-style hem. Natasha's mother had even made a white sash with black trim and bold lettering that read "BEST CHEF IN THE WORLD."

Which is for the last time. ..... I have chosen a beautiful sequin midnight blue and silver gown with rhinestones decorating on the blue part. A pair of shiny silver danglers to go with it. And a set of silver strappy kitten heels. With minimal makeup like, eyeliner, compact, lipstick and mascara. Lastly, wearing some perfume and getting a clutch, I am all ready to go! As I descend the stairs, my eyes fall on the man standing at the foot clad in a three piece charcoal black and white. When he turns around, a breath escapes my lips and he whispers, "Angel!"

He tossed it onto the bed, barely sparing her a glance before moving to the dresser, where he retrieved a pile of dark colored clothes. “Here.” Serena blinked as he threw them toward her. She barely managed to catch them, stumbling back slightly from the weight of the oversized fabric. She scowled down at the bundle in her arms. A black sweater, thick sweatpants, and a plain undershirt. They smelled like him…clean, sharp, laced with gunpowder and a hint of whiskey. She wrinkled her nose. Great. Now I’m going to smell like the devil himself. “You can wear those,” Lucian said coolly, as if she had a choice. “Your dress is useless now.”

No color. One of Damian's shirts hangs loosely on her frame. The sleeves fall past her wrists, and the fabric brushes against her thighs. "Hey," the voice finally manages to come out. It sounds rough, but it works. "You're supposed to be wearing red." The shirt is black. A fitting color for a funeral. The color works, at least. The style doesn't. It's far too casual. And the shirt barely covers her legs. Pretty sure showing that much skin isn't considered proper at something like that.

I had barely gotten in through the door of the mall when he sent me a gif of Wayne and Garth from Wayne's World, bowing, and captioned "We're Not Worthy!" Asshole. But I was kind of getting arrogant enough to say into the thin air, "Damn straight you ain't." The shirt I ended up buying was a pretty dope cloud pattern of sky blue and white. The only place the Crayola factory had thrown up on it were the insides of the collar and cuffs.

Liam says and I couldn’t hold back my laugh. I could see it though, Chloe had a black pleated dress with pockets to the side, her hair was tied into a ponytail while Liam had a white shirt that was rolled to his elbows and a grey pant trousers fit. “Oh well, one of us had to not look basic.” I jabbed playfully, Adonis nudging me by the side with a smile on his face. Chloe groaned, throwing a pamphlet at me.