Jack Wolfe Shirtless Novels & Stories

ROZETA: "Have you ever tried bringing out your wolf?" Jax asks me deep into the stroll we were having away from the cottage. I'm sure we were about five minutes walk away from there now even though I didn't necessarily keep count. I stop to look at him with raised brows. "No. But how do I do that?" "Like this," he says and then starts unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off when he was done. "And what do you think you're doing?" I ask him when I see him reach for his pants. It was obvious that he was going to take that off as well.

"We're running out of time. The longer we wait, the stronger the curse gets." "This is—I can't just—" He pulled his shirt off. Oh. Oh no. He was built like he spent every day fighting bears. Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Abs that should be illegal. See? my wolf said smugly. Death wish. Totally worth it. "Stop staring," Nero said. "I'm not staring." "You're staring." "You took your shirt off in front of me. That's on you." He almost smiled. Then he turned around, giving me privacy.

“Yeah, you should take those dripping clothes off, you don't want to catch a cold” “I rarely get cold”. I saw a small smile play on his lips, and it warmed me. I looked away as he took off his shirt. My heart was palpitating wildly and I was certain he could hear it. “Jovie?” He called in a soft voice. I turned to stare at him, and my mouth almost dropped to the floor. He was still shirtless though he had his back to me. I couldn't help gazing at the large wolf tattoo on my back. I had never seen it. For a stupid second, I imagined my hands running over it.

Wolfe get changed was harder than I anticipated. Every movement brought us closer, the air between us growing heavier with each passing second. His shirt slipped off his shoulders, revealing smooth, tan skin and a body that was far too perfect for someone who spent so much time behind an office. I kept my eyes concentrated on the task, refusing to let them wander. “Relax,” Mr. Wolfe said suddenly, his voice low. “I'm relaxed,” I replied, though my hands quivered slightly as I reached for the buttons on his pants.

my wolf snickered. "I thought we have settled this," "Yes but-," "But nothing, keep your wolfy mouth shut," I said blocking her out, turning my attention to my mate. Jack wore a dark-washed jeans matched with an ocean blue flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leaving his toned forearms on display. We were wearing matching couple outfits, hashtag couple goals. His dark hair was in its usual nest style that gave him a rugged, bad boy Alpha look that every parent told their children about to scare them and also, doesn't want their daughter to be with.

I clutched the other half of the shirt in my hand. Whistles* hubba...hubba... give me some of that sugar... My wolf threw dirty images into my brain as I stared fixed at his almost bare torso. The shirt only managed to cover quarter of his left side. I've seen him shirtless a couple of times, but-hello you, looking so delicious this early morning... Let's jump him... What??? No! Oh shut up! You know you want to...you aren't blocking out the images in your head... " What are you thinking about?" I flew back to reality, and froze because of how close we were now. When did he move???

I suggested. “I guess. Come on. Let’s go. I will shift and you can ride on my back. You will need to carry my clothes.” Jet sighed as he stripped down to nothing. “This is where those clothes would come in handy.” I sat on the hood and watched the show unfold in front of me. “True, but when you wouldn’t get to look at this amazing body.” His arrogance was thick as he gestured down his torso. “How will I survive?” rolling my eyes and picking up his clothes as he shifted. All it took was for me to bend over to grab his pants and suddenly there was a massive black wolf standing in front of me with red eyes.

"Pleas just take it off." "What? Why?" "Because, I'm asking nicely. Just take the sweatshirt off Mar." I crossed my arms under my chest, clutching at the sweatshirt. "That's not a reason. I don't want to take it off." "Well, I don't want you wearing it." What the heck? I looked at him, eyes wide and confused. He let out a loud huff, running his hands through his gorgeous dark hair. "I don't like another males scent on you. It's driving my wolf insane. Please take the damn sweatshirt off, now."

Do not remember what his fingers looked like on that book tour panel when he sipped water and smirked like he knew you were staring— The silence stretched. “Cold?” he asked. I realized I was shivering. “No.” “Liar.” He grabbed a thick flannel from the closet and tossed it at me. It smelled like cedar and firewood. “Don’t make it weird,” he muttered. “You’ll freeze.” “I’d rather freeze than wear your scent like some literary groupie.” “Fine.” He tugged it back, then peeled off his shirt. My brain short-circuited. Because Jax Hart was cut like a sex scene that never made it past editorial. Broad shoulders. Sharp V-lines. Light trail of hair disappearing under jeans I now absolutely noticed.