Tinte Window Near Me Novels & Stories

She chuckled and then exclaimed, "Oh! This van… Does it have a tinted windshield as well?" "No, probably not, but I cannot see clearly from up here," I said. "What about the front side windows?" "Those are black as night," I confirmed. "You should call the police," she declared, sounding proud of herself. "You can't have tinted front side windows in New York." I grinned. "Now, that's clever. Thank you, my dear genius friend." "You are so very welcome." She giggled. "Let me know if that works, but text me. I need to get back to my meeting."

The scent of cinnamon engulfed me at that moment as I stared longingly at his exposed chest, his white button-down shirt revealed his glistening abs as the sun vibrated through the tinted windows and spread its rays across the crevices in his chest. Those bastards, I thought to myself as I glanced suspiciously out tinted the passenger side window. Cian knelt by the bed of the truck with a black car jack positioned under the frame of the pickup and turned the crank with a degree of annoyance as he turned to reach for the spare tire that rested beside him. The tinted windows obscured his view as he was greeted with a blackened tint whenever he turned to seek my appearance, my stomach sunk at t

The parking lot is dark, little light revealing our location. I step out of my car and approach the mysterious van that just parked three spots to my left. The windows are tinted, I am unable to see inside at all. A sticker with the University Of Alabama is on the rear window, just as she said it would be.

Autumn pushed lightly against Keith’s chest. “You can talk without getting this close. It tickles.” “Don’t move,” Keith warned, narrowing his eyes. “Otherwise, I can’t promise I won’t do something about it.” The car windows were tinted, clear from the inside but opaque from the outside. People passed by in the busy lot, unaware of what was happening within. From the front seat, the view of the back was blocked entirely, and through the windshield, nothing could be seen unless someone deliberately looked.

I reached the gate and looked down the street toward the grey sedan. That’s when I saw it. About four houses down, tucked under the heavy shadow of an oak tree, sat a dark sedan. Not a family car. Not a suburban SUV. It was sleek, black, and the windows were tinted so dark. I froze. My hand stayed on the latch of the picket fence. The streetlights were dim here, but I saw it—a tiny, orange flicker of light from the driver’s side window. Someone was smoking. A thin trail of grey drifted out of a cracked window, vanishing into the night air.

"It's far far away." I frown and growl. "So you really won't tell me?" "Nope!" I give up. "Fine." "Patience, pretty girl. Practice patience." Trent is on his phone, his glass of champagne on the small table. He's looking at some beautiful pictures online. I look outside the window. It's so dark outside. I see something written at the front. Warning!!! NO SMOKING! I snatch Trent's phone. He looks up at me laughing.

It is only a couple of minutes away from where the pack house is but we are still slightly secluded. Dante stops in front of a small house that comes awfully close to resembling a cottage. The siding is white and there are light blue shutters over the windows. The front door has a beautiful stained glass window. Before we even walk inside I marvel at the roses planted all around the front edge of the cottage. How have I never seen this place before?

I wish I was doing that literally. I can’t be in the same car with her when I’m like this. I sigh again, quieter this time, and lower my gaze. Just as I step out of the parking lot, a car swerves up beside me, fast, and too close. "Fuck," I flinch, squinting to see the unlucky bastard. Fortunately for him, the glass is tinted. Wait— This car looks familiar. The window rolls down. "Come on in." Fucking Ted.

The images made another bead of precum well up and slide over my knuckles. A sudden knock on the window snapped me out of my fantasy. My eyes flew open and turned to the direction to see Tessa leaning in trying to peer through the dark tint. "Christian, open up!" Those pouty, cherry lips actually pressing against the glass like she was kissing it, leaving a faint mark. My cock jerked in my grip at the sight. Thank fuck the windows were heavily tinted. What the fuck was she doing here anyways? How had she even known it was me? The thought of her walking to any random tinted vehicle made something twist in my chest.

It’s August in Philly, summer heat still present, but with the AC cranked low, downstairs is a freezer in comparison to the attic. I’m about to open the only window, but Tony already aims for the windowsill. Completely ignoring my earlier speech. I tilt my head upward, restraining another eye-roll. He has no idea that I spent six hours being debriefed this morning about him and the entrances, exits, and windows of the two townhouses. Omega’s recommendation: try to keep him away from windows. I’m not in a gated neighborhood anymore. Windows face public streets. Which means anyone can whip out a camera, point a lens upwards, and try to film him.