Novel & Cerita Chandler Riggs Shirtless

I did not know why he requested for a change of clothes. He returned my phone to me. I tucked the phone in the pocket of my outfit. Suddenly, Chase tore the clothes that was on his body. The clothes on his body fell like useless rags and he stood before me in all his glory. He was only in black briefs. My eyes widened in shock. "Chase, what are you d-doing?" I asked in incredulity. Now I knew why he asked for Mark to bring clothes to him. His actions was crazy.

He looked every inch the dominant CEO on crisp white shirt open at the collar, revealing the old bite mark and newer scars. “On time,” Magnus noted with dark approval. “Strip. Now.” Finn’s hands moved automatically. He removed every piece of clothing , folding them neatly on a nearby chair until he stood completely naked except for the collar. The cool air of the penthouse raised goosebumps across his gaunt skin, highlighting how his ribs were already becoming more prominent from days of stress and minimal eating.

Reginald sat down in front of her and his long fingers began to unbutton his sapphire, nimbly working their way down, his shirt lifting to reveal defined muscles, well-proportioned to perfect abs, neither a single bit of flab nor overworked. It wasn't, was it? Undressing in front of a mentally challenged "patient", this guy's not a pervert, is he? Don't take it off. Reginald suddenly stood up, put his hand on the belt around his waist, and with a movement of his fingertips, the belt was pulled off. Heloise's breath hitched. Don't take it off again! As if hearing her inner growl, Reginald actually really didn't take it off again, only carrying the shirt in his hand, turning around and walking

“Tiana Larrinson?” Hearing my name, I instinctively looked up. Shawn Chandler stood over me, frowning. Beside him was Jessica Jordan, glittering with jewels in a custom designer gown. “So, it is really you.” He let out a sneer as his gaze swept across my plain clothes and the old garments in my hands. “You refused to wear the bridesmaid’s dress back then, and now, you’ve fallen so low that you’re rummaging through other people’s old clothes?”

I gave him a glare, but before I could say anything, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. For a second, my brain just… stopped. His body was exactly how I remembered it—broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist, every line of muscle defined under his skin. There were faint scars across his ribs and chest, telling stories I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear. Drops of rain slid down his collarbone, trailing over firm abs, and I had to quickly look away before my staring became obvious. “Fine,” he said casually, tossing the shirt aside. “I’ll wash my clothes and stay shirtless until they’re dry.”

Gripping. "Shit," I whispered, clutching my chest. His chin-length chocolate hair was tousled. He was shirtless with his hard torso on display for my hungry gaze above a pair of red and black, plaid pajama shorts that hung just low enough on his hips to make that V-line mouth-watering. "I didn't know you were home...or shirtless."

Hunter chuckled while the television screen replayed his pr stunt. “News report: The sizzling hot billionaire was seen on Mahogany Street a while ago. His tire burn out and he fixed it. What surprised the people is that he was shirtless. And yes, as you can see—ohh. Ooh. That body.” The camera focused on Hunter’s body. It glistened with sweat. Amplifying his abs and toning his chest even more. There are lines of grease. Which he puts on intentionally. The camera slowly lifted to his face. And his side profile was breathtaking.

He’s free to ogle over other women and I’m not allowed to even admire one? I pout defiantly and shrug my shoulders to let him know I don’t care what he thinks. Henry jumps down from the platform and confronts the challenger. He tosses a smirk at me, peeling off his dark shirt and when that clothing comes off his damned muscly build…my eyes are nearly dropping out of their sockets and my face has turned into an Inferno.

Why was he taking off his shirt? The lights were dimmed but she could still see him clearly. He had tossed his shirt aside, taken off his wristwatch and was now busily heading to the door. Click! He jammed it close. " Royalty_ " His side profile was daringly handsome, and so scary, Cinderella gulped and nervously drawled out his name. He turned. His eagle eyes fixated on her like a prey. He was shirtless, draped only in his tiger print trousers and a pair of stained dark handgloves.

Those were storm clouds, brewing with fire. “Are you satisfied?” Chance ignored Jaxon’s sarcastic tone. “Not entirely. Take off your shirt.” Jaxon blinked. “Are you joking?” “Not at all. For all I know, you’re wearing a wire. I want you out of that shirt.” Chance bit the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. Jaxon released a loud curse, but slid the buttons loose on his uniform. With it hanging open, exposing the white t-shirt beneath, he spread his arms wide.