Straight Jacket Novels & Stories

She didn't have time to browse or explain. In the first aisle, she spotted what she needed: a pair of loose, faded denim jeans. They were slightly oversized but durable, which was what mattered. Next, she found a plain black tank top, grabbing the thick black jacket hanging beside it on a rack. The jacket felt slightly worn, its lining frayed, but it was heavy enough to keep her warm in the cold nights ahead. She slung her purchases over her arm and strode up to the counter, handing over the money with a slight nod

The black fabric was expensive and the zipper was silver and heavy. I pulled it down slowly. Inside was a tailored black tuxedo. I stared at it and my throat closed up and my hands started shaking. The jacket was fitted and the pants were slim and the shirt was crisp white. Exactly the size of an Alpha with my frame. It was beautiful and elegant and it was designed for someone with broad shoulders and a flat chest and nothing to hide. How was I supposed to hide my body in this?

"I just needed a simple, professional outfit for the upcoming trial. We aren't here to purchase a new wardrobe." Adrian walked over to her, his long, predatory strides silent against the thick silk carpets. He had already shed his heavy suit jacket, his charcoal vest tightly hugging his broad, muscular chest, his crisp white sleeves rolled up precisely to his forearms, exposing the thick muscles of his wrists. He stopped right in front of her, leaning down to cup her face in his large, warm hands. His dark eyes burned with a raw, intense heat that made her breath hitch in her throat.

She’d caught him staring at her and lifted a brow at him and when they’d met later that night, they’d fucked hard and fast against his castle walls. “Aren’t you coming?” Skye asked, glaring at him. Her husband looked unfairly handsome in his formal wear of a dark double breasted jacket of a fine velvet with gold etchings and trimmings. He was a large man, even much taller than she with broad shoulders that made the jacket look better than it had on other men who attempted the same design. He’d worn a white linen shirt underneath with a well tied dove gray cravat. His dark breeches clung to his shapely muscular thighs and his boots shone from a good polishing. She loved how meticulous he was