Billy Hargrove Shirtless Novels & Stories

Harper, wearing only pants, flaunted his bare chest and abs without a care. "Why won't you call me your husband? You're so tough about it. Or are you saving that title for someone else?"

Black is my favorite color—it reflects what's inside my soul so well: everlasting darkness and bitterness. "You're leaving already?" I peer up towards the ceiling. Billy is wearing only a pair of washed-out jeans and a necklace with a bear tooth. He carelessly lights a cigarette inside his cabin. "Yup," My answer is short. Billy laughs. His blonde hair is sweaty and glued to his neck, and my heart nearly stops at the sight of his playboy muscles. There is a heart tattooed over his brawny chest, but I suspect there is nothing inside. "Can't you stay longer? I was just about to make pancakes for breakfast. I'm not good in the kitchen, but pancakes I can handle,"

Billy checked her out thoroughly. Instead of her strict office suit, Stephanie was wearing a black t-shirt with a funny print, a very tight pair of jeans, that were fitting her perfectly exposing her spectacular legs, and a pair of white sneakers. For the first time, Billy saw her hair falling freely on her shoulders and her back. All of a sudden, Billy felt the urge of running his fingers through that sea of ​​hazel silk. Man, she was absolutely gorgeous in that casual outfit… How come he never really saw her up to that moment?

he murmured as Bash slides the glass door that led to where he was seated. "Hey cutie, "he greeted with a charming smile, he was wearing a long-sleeve buttonless shirt that exposed his well-chiseled abs and a pair of white shorts. The way he positioned that is, with his legs crossed and one of his hands holding a glass of mojito, he looked like he was on set ready for a shot.

She couldn't see the man who kept turning away from her coming in after her unless he intended to do it fully clothed. "Okay, but you have to strip down to your undies. No tricks," she said, calling his bluff. His jacket hit the floor and it was her turn to gulp. He undid one button and then another until his shirt was on the floor too. Aria inhaled sharply. She knew he was completely ripped under his tailored suits, but damn if seeing it wasn't something else. Aria was not a stranger to shirtless men. She had sparred with her fair share of them. Bart didn't sparr without a shirt though, so this was all new to her.

I cried as I looked down at him in frustration. His brows furrowed as he lifted his head up towards me. “They’ve been here for awhile. They were just waiting for you to go inside.” He stated as he gently set me down onto the ground. I looked around him and furrowed my brows. The men had started to take out the box’s one by one and were setting them near there truck. “Why are they shirtless?” I asked as my cheeks got red. They had just all had shirts on, how did they have time to take them off. Plus it was not hot, so what were they doing.

"The man is in the process of something. I don't have the full shape of it, but I have been watching it long enough to know the texture." "What texture?" "The texture of a man who has accepted a loss publicly while refusing to accept it privately" He paused. "Mason Hargrove has never in his professional life conceded ground without a counter-strategy already in motion. The graciousness is a costume, Ms. Hargrove. I suspect you already know that." "I do," I said. He studied me for a moment, the way my father had studied things, with the specific attention of someone who was updating an assessment they had begun a long time ago.

Hargrove sat in the back, facing the door. He didn’t waste time. “Dr. Judge is clean,” he said. “Boring, even. No scandal. No mistress. No gambling. He’s got some family money, but he keeps his life tight.” Lily exhaled, unimpressed. “And Arlington?” Hargrove’s eyes flicked around the café as if the walls might be listening. He leaned forward. “Arlington isn’t who he says he is.” Lily’s pulse jumped. “Explain.”

“You won’t want to miss this show.” He tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, revealing miles of bare skin at his torso. Hugh’s not a gym buff, but between his Alpha genes and the amount he does work out, he’s deliciously toned. He flexes a little as I look, and I would have probably laughed if fear wasn’t still gripping me about what’s to happen next. Hugh kicks off his shoes and socks, then unbuckles his tight leather pants and peels them down his legs. When he stands straight again, he is fully naked, his dick hard and swollen. He grips it and strokes it as he looks at me.

Is it often passerbys would come in lacking foot coverage? “No shirt. No service.” She nodded at the back wall where there was a handful of shirts hanging on a rusted old Z rack. He found one men’s large it was the only one that wasn’t pink. The shirt was black and had the shape of North Carolina on it and it read Come on and Raise up. Well then. This is it I guess. He turned to the clerk grinned and put the shirt on. It was a tad snug on his biceps and he felt ridiculous. He looked in the reflection of the drink cooler and he looked like something from a wrestling poster.