Lucas Black Shirtless Novels & Stories

she said with a chuckle. I looked over at the door and saw Lucas walking out looking so handsome. He was wearing a tight black tee shirt and dark jeans that hugged his muscular legs. His hair is styled in a messy way that adds to his sexiness. Watching him interact with his male friends and watching his muscles flex with his every movement did something to my body. I almost moaned out loud but stopped myself. God, why am I torturing myself like this? I look away before he sees me watching and look at Jamie and Amber and see them smirking at me.

I was still wearing the same white outfit with my ankle boots, plus a thick, wool, dark blue winter jacket that reached just before my knees and a white, wool, winter beanie from April’s personal stuff. I felt a little shy about taking her stuff. What if she hates someone wearing her clothes? Not just someone but a….an alleged prostitute. Lucas was all dressed and ready for me, leaning against the front door with that smug smirk that is becoming his signature. He was wearing the same thing I saw him wearing in my room. A navy, blue jeans, a long sleeve black sweater, and black boots, he only added a black winter jacket on him. His eyes were running up and down my entire body as I approached

Alice "You are going on a raid?" I said incredulously. "Yes," Lucian responded while buckling his belt. "And it would be pointless to ask, to take me along. You won't do that, right?" "Precisely," he responded, fastening his guns. He was dressed in all black. Which was something like his combat gear. His entire team dressed in black, along with several spare black sweatsuits in case their outfit got destroyed during shifting. "Why not? You know I can fight!"

​I did a quick mental checklist: ​✔ Still alive. ​✔ Still clothed (in a sleep shirt I didn’t remember putting on). ​✔ Still absolutely, 100% mortified. ​I glanced toward the sitting area. Lucien was there, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. He looked like a painting of a fallen saint. Black shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that were a map of corded muscle and ancient grace. His hair was still slightly damp, a stray lock falling over his forehead in a way that made him look human. Almost.

Alarming. I narrow my eyes, not at her, but at Luca, who, of course, is dressed like he walked out of a bad-boy catalog. His black boots are scuffed just enough to make them look cool rather than unkempt. The dark jeans fit him perfectly, almost unfairly so, and the tight black shirt he’s wearing clings to his frame like it was tailored to every muscle. And then there’s the leather jacket—because, obviously, no bad-boy aesthetic is complete without it.

Sweat, fur, and raw masculine arousal. A low growl rumbled in Damien’s chest as Lucas stepped out from the trees below, shirtless, chest heaving. Moonlight carved every line of his powerful body: broad shoulders, thick pecs dusted with dark hair, abs glistening with sweat, and the heavy bulge straining against his low-slung pants. His nipples were tight and dark, and a thick happy trail disappeared into his waistband. Lucas lifted his head, nostrils flaring. Their eyes locked across the moonlit clearing.

It had to be Lucas, right? My mind was a mess as I dressed, constantly looping back to the motel and then to the kiss, but I had to focus. Maybe this training session could get my mind off everything. Over Stella and how evil she was. Over the man I may have killed. I walked into the gym and Lucas was already there. He was wearing a black tank top and a pair of black shorts that stopped close to his knees. His expression was serious as he saw me. An annoyed look crossed his gaze and he turned to look at his watch.

I whispered again this time hating how fragile my voice sounded against the backdrop of the wilderness. I forced a cold, sharp edge back into my tone before turning to face him. "A long way down, though. It would be incredibly easy for someone to just... slip." I smirked. ​Lucas had already shed his suit jacket and tie. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the dark hair and the heavy watch catching the afternoon light. He looked entirely too grounded here, a predatory creature perfectly suited for an untamed environment.

He whispers wistfully, “Tonight, we do this right.” He takes a step back, allowing me room to unwrap myself from him. We both start removing our clothes. Luke is moving far quicker than me. Making me laugh a little, I unzip my skirt and let it float to the floor. I kick off my boots and remove my bra, leaving my panties on. Luke removes his jeans, already having kicked his shoes off. Jesus commando…. I’m going to die tonight in the best possible way anyone can die.

It should be illegal to look this nerve wrecking. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a patch of clear slightly tanned skin. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing off the prominent veins that ran up his back hand. I felt the breath hitch in my wind pipes as our eyes met, his mesmerizing green stare made my cheeks flush and my knees go weak, it was like I was paralyzed as I stood there while his eyes still roamed me. "I don't think I've introduced myself. Damon Blackwood" his husky voice made my heart rate pick up. A smirk crawled unto his features as he stretched out a hand for me and I just stared in awe, his words sinking in.