Billy Hargrove Shirtless Novels & Stories

I showered and consciously chose to shave. 'Serena, you chose to do that today of all days. Girl, is it just mere coincidence or are you banking on going down with...' I knew the direction this subconscious mind of mine was going, and I'd be proving her wrong. Getting my pussy bald absolutely had nothing to do with Havoc. Hell, I don't even think there's a possibility of coming in contact with him tonight. Step by step, my outfit for the party was coming together. My black strapless top hugged my naked boobs properly, leaving my back completely bare... Yes, I opted not to wear bra...majorly because my top was backless.

Jackie opened her robe. Patty’s eyes widened. Her head snapped over at Billy. Jackie giggled. “He’s seen me naked plenty of times.” “Really?” Patty said with surprise. Billy rubbed the back of his head. Jackie took her robe off and placed it on a towel rack. “Yes, I think Billy is the only man alive who has screwed all three Garvey women.” Billy laughed. “Jodi, too?” Patty exclaimed. “Oh, shit. Does . . . you know who know?”

My eyes widened—Hade, Hank, and Jarred were all standing there. None of them looked like they were headed to a business meeting. Hade wore a plain white V-neck and black shorts, his beanie pushed low. Hank was in all black—shirt, jeans, baseball cap. And Jarred? He was impossible to miss: white sleeveless shirt under a loud Hawaiian-print polo, blue shorts, and a beige bucket hat. His style was… painfully human. I hated it. “I thought you guys were going on a business trip?” I asked, turning back to rinse the dishes and place them in the rack. Footsteps echoed behind me.

Billy had taken the soft top off of Jodi’s red jeep. Trina and Billy had put posters on the front and back bumper of the vehicle to promote Red Light Special night at Garvey’s tonight. Trina and Billy waited for Jodi in the lobby. She finally came down in a red string bikini. It showed off a prominent amount of her breasts because there were only patches that covered up her nipples. A red patch covered her vagina and C-section scar. A string ran up the crack of her butt. She had curled the ends of her hair.

Billy asked nonchalantly, not a care in the world. The sound of his carefree voice made me smile despite the mess I was. "Hey Billy," I said, putting the phone on speaker. "We just got in. Nothing but blue waters out here," I said, unable to do it as I locked eyes with a shirtless Harmon across the room, struggling to get his hard dick back into his pants. "How's Rio de Janeiro?"

Harlow stuffed her feet in the leather knee-high boots, then laced them up. She glanced at Gore then frowned. "What is that face for?" "I'm not allowing you on the battlefield shirtless, Gore." He made a face. "I wasn't planning to go like this, I just couldn't decide which shirt to wear. I don't know if I should go casual, or formal." "Just wear the blue and orange one, I think you look sexy in that." When Harlow stood, Gore pulled her to him.

And tonight he has no patience. “That’s it,” he growls, starting to fuck me with raw force, short and deep thrusts, the table creaking beneath us. “Scream. Let him hear how you come on my cock.” Harvey sits in the chair in front of me. He doesn’t take off his clothes. He’s still in a black dress shirt and trousers, immaculate. He only opens his belt, pulls down the zipper, and takes out his cock. Thick, veined, the head glistening with arousal. He grips my chin and lifts my face.

Kelvin pov Donald Hargrove was waiting outside my building when I got back from the studio. Not lurking. Donald didn’t lurk; lurking was for men who thought they might be wrong to be somewhere. He stood on the pavement with his coat open despite the cold, hands loose at his sides, the posture of a man who had simply decided this was where he would be standing today, and everyone else’s schedule would have to work around it. “Mr. Rae.” He didn’t offer a hand.

There was no aesthetic fatigue at all. The first dozen people walked by one after another, and the lights went out after the final person walked by. The room fell into silence again. The next second, the last person came out. The lights suddenly came on again, probably a few degrees brighter than earlier. As the blinding light hit his body, Harvey Sage walked out in a casual outfit. The most eye-catching thing was that his shirt was only buttoned loosely, revealing almost half of his chest as well as the faint eight-pack. He was incredibly dashing and looked much more wild and unruly than the dozen or so people earlier.

The door was slightly ajar, and soft sounds of movement and heavy breathing drifted out. I stopped right at the edge of the doorframe, pressing my back against the wall, and peeked in through the gap. Oh. My. God. He was there. Shirtless. Gone were the suits, the crisp shirts, the buttons, the ties. He was wearing only dark grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, no shirt, no shoes, nothing else. His back was to me, hands gripping the pull-up bar high above him, and he was moving—smoothly.