Levi Miller Shirtless Novels & Stories

he replies, making me smile. "I don't know how to swim." I remind him. "I'll help. as long as your wearing some panties... because your going to need to lose the shirt." he remarks, making me blush. "I am." I confirm, before pulling Salem's shirt off and setting it on the rock. My long hair covers my breasts as Levi removes his shirt and sets it on the rock next to mine. With only a pair of shorts on, he reaches a hand out and helps me step off the rock and into the water with him.

"What's this?" "A robe and a towel," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Go put it on, and wrap the towel around your head—like you just came out of the shower. You need it for the next setup." I want to ask why, but he turns back to his camera, dismissing me. Sighing, I head to the restroom, swap my tee for the robe, and leave my shorts on. No way I’m flashing anyone today. I get the answer to the question I wanted to ask when I head back to the studio to find Levi shirtless, wearing only a thin shorts made from the same silky fabric.

"Off. Both of you." They stripped without rushing. Nate methodical, folding his shirt on the chair because he was Nate. Levi pulling his shirt over his head in one motion and dropping it wherever it landed because he was Levi. And then they were bare and I let myself look, because they were mine and looking at them was one of the great privileges of my life.

She asked with her trembling voice. "100 copies of the posters where EROS MILLER STOOD TALL IN FRONT OF Y/N WITH HIS WET SHIRT STICKING ON TO HIS BODY LIKE A GLUE MAKING HIS ABS PROMINENT AND CLEAR TO WATCH." I yelled in excitement to which she flinched, I can see in my peripheral vision that all the students around me being utterly shocked with a few gasps as a bonus, but do I care? Fucking no. All I want is Miller's pic.

"Wow, you are quite prepared." He smiled, "Well, as they say, I'm a husband who is just trying to please his wife." Luna went in to change into her swimsuit, but as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she felt uncomfortable. Her hips were widely exposed, and so were her breasts and tummy. She wondered if Alex deliberately bought it to stare at her body, but then she decided to go along with it, reminding herself that it was for the media. Covering her body with a robe, she came out, saw that Alex was already wearing white and pink swim briefs, and gulped.

“Uh… t-thank you for the shirt.” The guy turned to her and looked at her from head to toe, making Millie a bit uneasy who was wearing a lousy black shirt with the words ‘I Love New York…’ printed on it. “Looks good on you.” He smirked then turned back on the fry pan he was holding. “I promise to give it back to you tomorrow.” “Oh. No need. That’s an extra. It actually comes together with this shirt.” He suddenly pointed at his shirt which read, ‘I am New York!’ “Couple shirt. Pretty cool, huh?”

My mind races, the possibilities, the fears, the hopes all jumbling together. The sound of footsteps echo a moment later, and I glance up to see Levi entering the room. He’s cleaned up, the blood washed from his face, but the bruises are already blooming, a testament to our earlier altercation. His blue button-down shirt hangs open, exposing the white tank underneath, and his black jeans are torn at the knee.

In fact, I felt weightless. Levi broke the kiss, and leaned backwards just enough to pull off his shirt. My eyes lit up in want, as I noticed his huge muscled chest - his skin ivory and his six pack firm and shining. Tattoos glistened over his back, but I didn't get chance to look at the design because a second later his lips regained mine.

In his hand, he gripped a handful of glossy magazines and two paperbacks, covers that still made heat rush to my cheeks. Millie had slipped them into my hands behind the gym a couple weeks back, winking and whispering, "Trust me, you need these more than I do." The magazines were filled with shirtless men in low-slung jeans or nothing at all, their skin glistening and eyes smoldering as they gazed into the camera.

ARRETT Xavier standing there shirtless shouldn’t be a big deal because we’ve all seen him without a shirt a thousand times. But right now with the context of what we’re about to do, it feels different. Nobody moves for what feels like a full minute. Then Nash stands up and pulls off his own shirt like he’s ripping off a band-aid. “Fuck it. We’re doing this.” Cole is still standing by the pool table looking like he’s reconsidering every life choice that led to this moment. “How does this even work? Do we just all—”