What Does Jeff The Killer Look Like Novels & Stories

Now, as I made my way down the hidden staircase to the basement playroom, my thighs rubbed together with every step, sending fresh sparks of arousal through me. I pushed open the heavy door. Jeff was already there, standing in the center of the room in nothing but a pair of black trousers. His broad, muscled chest was bare, every ridge and valley of his abs on full display. The massive bulge in his trousers was already prominent, straining against the fabric. He looked up as I entered, and that sly, dangerous smile curved his lips when he took in the costume. “Well, well,” he drawled, voice low and amused. “Officer Harrington. Here to arrest me?”

Outside of that time, it’s hard to reach him. Jefferson sighed, decided to turn around, and planned to wait at the fountain. But Jefferson was surprised when he saw someone casually walking without wearing clothes. A towel was draped around his neck; although his hair was limp and greasy, he still looked tempting. How could Jefferson not stare at and admire him with his milky white skin, sculpted body with that workout, and calm yet charming face? He looked like a model on sports magazine covers. This was the first time Jefferson saw Homer with a non-formal look. Jefferson lowered his head after greeting him.

I hissed with my teeth clenched, glaring at Jackie Fernando's photo at the top of the board. I felt myself get charged up with anger the moment I laid my eyes on him. He looked like a sweet soul in the picture, pretty handsome and quite rigged. But as they say, visuals can be deceptive. Looking at him, you could never imagine he murdered thousands of people in cold blood. Nobody had ever seen his face. He used to send his mafia gang to do the dirty work, but somehow my parents were special.

It could be a serial killer, for all I knew. Except that he didn’t look like a serial killer. On the contrary, he looked like a model from a fashion magazine, all dark and brooding with muscles for miles and auburn hair. And those eyes! I’d never seen eyes so blue, like the color of the water my landlord was probably sitting beside right now. Bright blue, almost surreal.

Jeff's asked in a low baritone echoed? I froze on my spot and shut my eyes. Why is he already awake? He should still be sleeping. I turned around slowly until I saw him standing in front of me with a serious look on his face. My eyes couldn't help but notice how good he looks on his black sweatshirt and a pair of cotton shorts. He looks like a model for men's Clothing. I smile awkwardly, "I have a long way to go so, I tried to figured I should get going early."

“It wasn’t supposed to go that far. I killed them by mistake. My wife, she…she was leaving me. She wanted to take the kid. I lost control. I didn't mean to kill them. I didn't know what to do with the bodies. I hid them in my basement.” A bastard, that was what he was. “And?” “A man came to me,” he whispered. “He said he could make the whole thing disappear, if I brought the bodies to your plant, no one would ever find out what I did.” I exchanged a look with Nico. “Now you're going to tell me exactly how he looked, or this is going to get very ugly.” Keller swallowed hard, trembling. “He was tall. Maybe six-two. He… ah… had a deep scar across his face, here.” He dragged his fingers across h

I didn't know what it was about him, how me managed to leave me both relaxed and tensed up in his presence. I've witnessed him kill someone, twice. Yet. I turned around slowly, to meet his gaze, his mismatched eyes held mine as his lips curled up slightly. He was dressed in dark washed jeans and what seemed to be a band T-shirt that had a red skull with a long nail running through it, and then on top of it was a leather jacket that caught every glimmering light. Smooth and probably expensive as hell. He looked like a biker, and held a dangerous attractiveness that somehow called yet deterred me.

I giggled at his stupidity as he walked past me and out to the car. “Well, I am glad to see that Dillion and you seem to get along because he is going to be staying with you in Rome.” I turned around and held my breath as I looked at Jensen standing at the bottom of the stairs. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt that showed off his abs and chest muscles perfectly. A pair of ripped black jeans with black converse high tops and a black leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. He was breathtaking and I could feel my lust for him rising more and more. I calmed myself and walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Aww. Are you jealous handsome?” His arms came around my waist and p

Not until Liam spoke. “The contractor is here.” I snapped around, and there he was. With long confident strides, Jeff approached us. Tall guy with broad shoulders. Brown haired, paired with soft blue eyes that didn’t match his rugged frame. Something soft clung to him, making it hard to categorize. I couldn’t tell if he was an Alpha, a beta, or an omega. But I couldn’t ask. That was rude. We shook hands. Jeff turned to Liam. “I heard you saying this place can’t be safe,” he said, before flashing a grin. “It definitely can.”

he whispered, “I’ll kill you first.” My heart stopped beating altogether. He was serious. I saw it in the stillness of his expression, the cold certainty in his eyes. He meant every word. A crack echoed from the hallway. Then another. Then BOOM. The wall to the east exploded inward, sending stone chunks flying. Wolves screamed and scrambled. Dust filled the air. And through the cloud of dust a figure emerged. Jeffrey. His Alpha beast form filled the entrance—huge, monstrous, fur dark as midnight, muscles bulging beneath the shifted skin. His fangs glistened, saliva dripping onto the stone floor. His claws were the size of daggers, gouging deep marks into the ground as he stepped forward.