John Saxon Nude Mga Nobela at Kwento

That’s when I caught sight of Jaxon. He’s naked, his back to me, standing at the water’s edge. His hands shove his wet hair backward, droplets cascading down his broad shoulders. His muscles ripple under his skin and strong arms, the kind that’s alluring and mesmerizing. It’s a good sight to behold, all power and grace, like a statue come to life. I’m lost studying his physique, my eyes tracing the lines, when his voice snaps me out. “Hey, besty.” He turns slightly, walking out of the water. I catch the V shape of his groin as I swallow.

I wonder what he's doing right now? I stretched and got out of bed without any clothes on my body. I like sleeping naked, but there are other reasons too. I'm thinking about Arthur now, but I was thinking about a different man last night while I was touching myself. I'm really a certified slut, but Jaxon is also really hot. He's handsome and big, and I bet his part down there is also big. I slapped my cheeks hard. I shouldn't be thinking about that. I shouldn't be thinking about anything other than the hiking tour, and how I can also attract a bear man.

There were quite many of them built in the same style but I guessed I could identify his own from one or two distinct marks. I didn't need to do all that because I soon found Jaxon chopping wood with an axe outside his cottage. He was bare chested. I am starting to think that this man has a problem with clothes. I stood there, a little distance away, watching him swing the axe and split the woods with ease, the retreating sun reflecting on his gleaming sweaty muscles. It dawned on me that the Show Directors hadn't made the wrong choice; Jaxon West was the perfect cast for a sexy cowboy bachelor!

Jaxon sits up and scoots to the side of the bed while looking at my right arm and then up at my face before he casts his gaze downward. Jaxon takes a deep breathe and I watch as air fills up his shirtless chest, and only then do I notice he is only clad in a pair of black basketball shorts. Upon closer inspection, I notice his facial hair is longer and a bit unruly, his eyes have purple bags under them. His hair is a chaotic mess like he has ran his hands through it more than he hasn't. He looks like such a beautiful disaster. Jaxon is the only person I know or have ever seen that can pull off looking this awful. He makes awful, look good.

Eventually, Zara hung up and returned to the room. She changed into a baggy black T-shirt and shorts, letting her massive red hair fall loosely around her shoulders. The shirt dipped low on one side, exposing a hint of her collarbone and smooth skin. She walked out quietly—only to freeze at the sight in the kitchen. Jaxon stood shirtless at the counter, stirring something in a pot. His broad back rippled with muscle and scars, the gray sweatpants riding low on his hips. The tension in his arms, the veins on his forearms, the sheer quiet power in the way he moved—it all hit her like a slap of heat.

And his warmth was already slightly drying his clothes. "This is madness." "I'm glad you noticed that." "You are never grateful for anything." He suddenly took off his jacket as well as his undershirt, leaving the upper part of his body topless. Next, he put his jacket and t-shirt on the next vacant chair and hung them dry. I gulped at the perfect scenery in front of me. His body was way much more beautiful than Thalia’s mural. Knoxx's body was more muscular compared to Jericho's. He also had mouth-watering abs which I wanted to run my tongue and—

But as Jaxson leads me into the house and up the stairs to our room telling me that we both need a shower and to change before dinner, I find myself with a different type of appetite, one that involves finishing what we started the other night. As Jaxson opens the door to our room and shuts it behind us, I turn and look at him shirtless, with his jeans hanging so loose down around his hips, exposing that perfect V of his, and those abs that run for miles. Men that looked like him were normally pictured only in magazines or in movies, and to think this man was mine.

Sabrina announced after she walked into Julian's room without knocking and she regretted her actions almost immediately as Julian stood half naked, with only a towel wrapped across his lower body. He looked so painstakingly good, with his body looking like it was sculpted with inspo from an emperor and a bodybuilder all at once. There were scars on his chest and his stomach and they told the silent story of his struggles and his victories. He also had intricate drawings of tattoos on the left side of his chest while the scar was on the right side. He could be called a demigod with that kind of body that puts athletes to shame.

"Here, you can undress now." Feeling self-conscious and awkward, John hesitated for a moment before reluctantly starting to undress. Meanwhile, Darius continued to strip in front of him, his toned physique on full display. John couldn't help but steal glances at his mate's chiselled abs and defined leg muscles, his mind momentarily distracted from the impending run.

I took a spot in the back row, unrolled my mat, tried to breathe. Then the door opened. Jax walked in and every molecule in my body noticed. He was huge—easily six-four—with shoulders that stretched his black tank top to the limit. His arms were thick, veins running along his forearms like ropes. Tattoos curled up one bicep and disappeared under the sleeve. Sweat already shone on his skin, making the dark hair on his chest stick to the deep V of his shirt. His shorts rode low on narrow hips, and when he turned to mess with the speakers, I couldn’t stop my eyes from dropping to the way the fabric cupped his ass. Firm. Round. Powerful.