White Collar Suits Neal Caffrey Novels & Stories

The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, stifling any attempts at conversation. Nate, He was leaning casually against the wall, his presence commanding attention. His attire exuded a sense of refined elegance, perfectly tailored to accentuate his strong physique. Dressed in a sleek black suit that fit him like a second skin, Nate exuded an air of sophistication. The crisp white shirt he wore added a touch of contrast, its collar peeking out from underneath the impeccably tailored jacket. Every detail of his outfit was meticulously chosen, from the polished black shoes to the subtle glimmer of his cuff links.

I wore a fitted cream dress that hugged my waist and fell just below my knees. I looked elgant and poised. I grabbed my black heels and put it on, looking at myself one final time. Just then I heard a knock and the door opened I thought it was Hilda , but I felt someone behind me and I looked ag the mirror, it was Rafael. He was wearing a black tailored suit, without a tie and his hair was neatly arranged, he looked so handsome. If only he wasnt such an asshole He brought out a necklace and put it around my neck

My cleavage was concealed by a soft transparent net which flirted with the smooth creamy skin, the inner linen stopping at the thighs where a sheer lace took over. Waxed long legs were on display, my neck encased in a silver choker neckpiece. Ferrara De Castello, the Don of the most influential Mafia organisation in America who controlled a sect of the government behind the scenes, sucked in a deep breath as soon as I revealed my choice of outfit. His gaze met mine as I handed the jacket over to him, and when his fingers brushed against mine, it was me who was almost gasping for breath. I held myself at the last minute, a knowing smile of confidence on my lips.

Scattered in different corners of the hall, all dressed in monochromatic colours, were the caterers, ready to attend to every wining and dining need of the attendees. Cameron Myers wasn’t afraid to break the mold. Stepping into the spotlight, he sported a classy navy blue suit—a bold choice that turned heads. The jacket, a single-breasted cut, hugged his broad shoulders, and a silk pocket square in a complementary paisley pattern added a touch of eccentricity. A crisp white textured shirt peeked out from under the open collar, and the sleeves rolled up casually. His hair was artfully tousled, and a hint of achievement danced in his eyes. Cameron’s attire wasn’t just about celebrating the awa

He noted that Wyoming was wearing the white chiffon dress he asked her to wear specifically that day. Wyoming shrugged her shoulders, not even glancing at his attire. Maybe, if she was not preoccupied, Wyoming would suspect something fishy with their outfits, but since she was absorbed with problems with her father, she withholds any comments on Cayden’s suit - a few notches shy away from being formal.

Just the mere thought filled me with arousal. And Neil hadn't even dressed for the occasion. He wore his slacks, stained t-shirt and his jacket. Gut stretching the fabric. He looked like this was just any other thing he did. Like it was no big deal. Like Cass was just some tramp he was gonna bang real quick before heading off. It was almost downplaying the whole thing by how he dressed. But somehow that too helped fuel it. Especially as I had at least put on a decent polo shirt, and Cass was dressed in one of her tight blue jeans and her favorite green loose fit blouse.

Typically her mother monitored those kinds of things, but after years of living under her thumb she’d gotten good at sneaking and hiding. I offered to pay her back, but she refused. “Consider it an early wedding present,” she cooed over the phone. “Make sure to get back to me though. Nyla and I are dying to know how jealous it makes your husband-to-be.” That night I snuck down to the kitchen for a little late-night snack of the ice cream variety when I walked in on Caius. He was leaning against the counter, with a glass of whiskey in hand. The button down he usually wore had been replaced with a crisp t-shirt. It hugged his abs, conforming to each curve of muscle. Even his slacks had been tr

The crowd was a sea of black, a uniform of sophistication. Jay, in another flawless suit, felt the eyes immediately. These were different from the stares in Velvet. These were assessments of value. They noted his proximity to Rafe, the cut of his clothes, the cold elegance of his demeanor. He was being appraised as a different kind of commodity.

No—guarded. And I didn’t know what made me warmer—the threat, or the protection. I wasn’t walking into the lion’s den alone. And for once, I wasn’t the lamb. The café was upscale, tucked between an art gallery and a florist—my father’s choice. Polished, curated. The kind of place where silence costs fifty dollars a cup. I spotted him instantly. He sat by the window, dressed impeccably in a charcoal suit, sipping espresso like a man who hadn’t faked his daughter’s death to steal her life. His tie pin gleamed. His eyes didn’t.

He reflects a man who knows exactly who he is – and doesn't care what others think. The dark milky brown turtleneck made with thick stitches accentuated his broad chest and shoulders. It's definitely Ralph Lauren's. The shoes are from Timberland. The hair he'd chosen for the sweater, mixing a light blonde with a dark shade of dark brown, was purposefully contrasted. His jaw clenched with unconscious need as he searched the darkness of the bookstore. But your eyes... A chocolate-colored swirl like Hershey's syrup. Faint gold and amber reminded her of aged whiskey. A glittery, tear-jerking combination of sexual misconduct and longing for indulgence. She waited as his eyes scanned the room, swe