Colby Brock Shirtless Novels & Stories

I was still looking at him when I said, "Do you want me to take a picture of them so you can take it home with you? I mean, I don't mind you looking, but I don't want you to get hurt when we are unloading the truck and trying to look at me at the same time. I come from the northeast part of this country and it's too hot for me so like the men do, I took off my shirt to stay cool. You don't mind do ya?" "Oh, no. I don't mind at all. It's surprising to see a girl without her shirt on, that's all." "Well get used to the idea because I get too hot with a shirt on and I'd be damn appreciative if you didn't go back to town and tell everyone there's a topless girl working on the Campbell ranch. If

Not to be judgmental, but the dude didn't even need to work and that was why he never did. "Yeah, he has free time." Jess pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jumper and flashed me her wallpaper, which was a picture of Colton freaking Barnes in a barista uniform with Jess looking cute on her pink outfit wrapped on his arm. There was 'Poirot's' embroidered in the silver lining on the front of his apron. "You see; he's not just a muscle man." Jess smiled proudly. "Oh, wow," Colton Barnes in an apron was really a sight I've never thought I'd see. His shoulders were broad, just like most of the football players, and him wearing an apron was a little weird, "when did he start working?"

Brooke and Libra were dressed similarly. Red and khaki almost 'short-shorts', white/yellow bikini tops under white wife-beaters covered with a denim shirt (sleeves rolled up) and white cargo short-sleeved shirt, tennis socks and canvas shoes. In a way, I was a victim of my own success. Both ladies wanted to fuck me bad, but their desire to prove to me I was more than a fuck toy meant I didn't get sex at my place. If you are a girl, that will make much more sense.

My face burns with deep, intense blushes, my hands dropping to cover myself the moment he releases my wrists. Colton walks over to a heavy wooden chest near his bed, rumbles through it, and pulls out a thick, oversized red flannel shirt. He walks back over and shoves it into my chest. "Put it on," he orders. I slide my arms into the sleeves quickly, my fingers shaking so badly I can barely line up the buttons. The shirt is massive on my small frame, the hem falling all the way down to the middle of my thighs, completely swallowing me in his scent of woodsmoke, leather, and pure masculinity. The fabric is rough against my sensitive, swollen nipples, making them throb with a strange, heavy ach

“What does one person do with all this...?” Then a door clicked open behind her. Lauren turned around, a frantic apology already on her lips, but the words died in her throat. Her lungs stopped working. Oh Shit! Colt stood there, just three feet away. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower; steam still curled off his skin. He was dripping wet, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, and he was completely, unapologetically naked.

Which, let me tell you, is a much-needed break after the shit show that the seminar turned out to be and then family dinner. Those were a fucking stressful two days, so yacht day is fucking screaming my name at this point. Colt was looking sexy in his stormy gray bathing suit shorts. But seriously in all reality, what the fuck does he not look good in? Haven’t found anything yet and I’ve been here a month. Nevermind the fact that he’s only wearing the shorts so his delicious abs and enough of his chiseled V-cut are on display. Uhm… YUM.

He looks stunning in jeans, a button navy shirt and his black leather jacket. Reaching for me, Colby pulls me into his arms, “Are you ready for this, Kate?” he asks after kissing me. “I am as ready as I ever will be,” I sigh snuggling deeper into Colby’s tight arms. This is one of those rare times I would like to have someone else handle this for me. But I would not step down and would do right by a past Pack member.

I turned to offer him the water to find his shirt off and his tan chest on display for the world to see. In any other scenario, even the most devout of lesbians would have swooned-or at least stopped to admire the attraction-but the funk radiating off his clothes took precedence over his beauty. He took the hose and began to spray the chunks off his T-shirt and then held it out for me to hold. I watched as he unbuttoned his shorts and then slid them off, laying them flat on the ground. I wasn't sure if West, Collier, or Brutus stood next to my house in nothing but his boxers, and I didn't want to find out if there was a personality I hadn't met.

Adrian Cole was standing behind me… shirtless, wearing brown cotton pants. I coughed hard, embarrassed. He moved slowly, reaching out toward me. "Move your head." He held my head briefly… just to grab another bottle from the fridge. Oh, the shame. "Yo… you could’ve told me you wanted water!" I muttered, blushing. He looked at me as he drank… I noticed his Adam’s apple moving… then his sculpted chest… abs… tattooed arm… and his neck. He raised an eyebrow and said sarcastically, "Were you in a fight?"

Her feet were adorned with black Grecian sandals that added a touch of sophistication to her ensemble. Turning my gaze to Brock, I took in his commanding presence. He wore crisp black slacks that accentuated his tall, muscular frame. The white dress shirt he sported was perfectly tailored, with the first button undone, revealing a glimpse of his strong chest. The sleeve of his shirt was rolled up right below his elbow, giving a casual yet stylish vibe. His black leather shoes gleamed, as if meticulously polished to perfection, reflecting light like a mirror. The attention to detail in his appearance gave off an air of authority and confidence. Despite my disappointment at missing the opportu