Sting Proof Bee Suit Novels & Stories

Beau held up my bra as I laid it out. “It’s a bodysuit, with a built-in bra. I don’t technically need it. However, with the actives that are going to take place, I wanted an extra layer of fabric if something happens to my dress. This also has a metal place across the stomach. Kyle made this for me to wear on my jobs. It helps keep knives from stabbing me.” “Damn…” Beau put it down and looked at me.

Instead of black tactical armor, they wore casual white polo shirts, trying their best to blend in with the garden hedges (though the earpieces remained). In the expansive backyard, a plume of dark grey smoke was rising into the blue sky. "Jackson!" Serenity yelled from the shade of the porch, holding a glass of lemonade. "You are burning the Wagyu! That’s Grade A5 beef from Kobe!" Standing by the massive chrome grill was Jackson Sterling. He wasn't wearing his Italian suit. He was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and a ridiculous apron that said "World's Okayest Dad" in bright neon letters—a prank gift Alex had ordered online.

I woke up from the sound of my stomach growling, without a word; I stood up from lying on my bed; my face was a little hurt from the incident earlier when I saw my reflection, a big purple bruise. I sighed and held my cheek, and started to heal myself. My mom and dad were fascinated with my gift for healing, but it wasn't extravagant; like the doctors from our tribe, I could heal simple wounds or, like mine—Bruises.

My mom always said to go big and wow, so they can’t complain about not seeing you. Crispin was wearing a black suit with a red outline and an orange-reddish shirt. So, we should match, something my mom loves to do with us. Steven is getting away with a simple blue suit, for he worries he might need to work and doesn’t want to ruin an expensive or flashy suit. My mom’s dress is the same as mine, but Hers’ is orange with red shading and dark blue outline. The blue is to tie in Steven and my father who will be wearing his council robe.

He became an absolute, impenetrable shield, eclipsing her entirely from the predatory glare of the media and the toxic, pointing fingers of Jessica Sterling. Behind the secure sanctuary of his back, Lydia felt the immediate drop in temperature. The blinding lights were suddenly blocked out by the midnight-black fabric of his Brioni suit jacket. His warmth radiated against her, a silent, heavy promise that as long as he breathed, no weapon formed against her would ever touch her skin.

The driver stepped out and opened the back door for me, but before I climbed in, he handed me a garment bag. “Mr. Steele asked me to give you this,” he said, his tone professional but distant. I unzipped the bag and found a tailored suit inside—dark navy, crisp, and undoubtedly expensive. My brow furrowed as I looked back at the driver. “What’s this for?” I asked. “Mr. Steele wants you to wear it,” the driver replied simply. I stared at the suit for a moment, debating whether or not to argue. But what would be the point? Jaxon always got what he wanted, and fighting him on this would only make things worse.

"Choose something that suits your taste. You can have anything you want." Emotionally, Eric walked towards the tailor's statue. He ran his fingers along the fabric of the suit's sleeves, feeling the luxurious texture under his touch. Each suit seemed more luxurious than the last, but he honestly wanted the cheapest price possible. Just as Eric was about to give up and choose a plain black suit, his eyes fell on a unique suit hidden at the back of the rack. It was a suit unlike any he had ever seen before. The suit was made of dark blue velvet, decorated with intricate silver buses that shone like stars in the night sky. The trousers were a deep blue color, tailored to fit his body shape.

Even for a layman like Stephen and me, we knew the suit would cost millions, if not more. Linda immediately picked a dozen suits for me to check and then began taking Sterly around the room. But even a blind man could tell that 90% of the suits in the room were made for Sterly, and he could directly pick anyone he liked. It seemed Linda wasn't any different from Drake either... I laughed and picked up one of the suits. I entered the changing room to change. I returned to see Sterly, Stephen, and Linda waiting for me. When they saw me, Linda nodded while Stephen clapped.

She was wearing a camouflage poncho that was three sizes too big, and she had wrapped her pink laptop in layers of lead foil and bubble wrap. "If my baby dies," Haley muttered, clutching the laptop to her chest, "I am suing the jungle." Then, Ben waddled in. Silence fell over the hangar. Ben Carter was wearing... a suit. A mechanical, bulky, plastic-looking suit that resembled a cross between a deep-sea diving rig and a knock-off Iron Man costume painted camouflage green. It had solar panels on the shoulders, a water filtration tube near the mouth, and countless pouches.

It was a statement look—bold yet refined. When I finished, the stylist helped me into the jumpsuit. The fabric felt luxurious against my skin, cinching at the waist to accentuate my figure. The sleek design exuded confidence and elegance, and I paired it with delicate diamond studs and a simple bracelet for just the right touch of sparkle.