Lucas Black Shirtless Romane & Geschichten

And then she saw him, tall, striking, every line of his face pulling eyes toward him as if by gravity. Lucas had swapped his previously black suit for one of pale lavender, a choice that made him gleam all the more. Those who knew Lucas well were aware that his palette rarely strayed beyond black, with the occasional white or gray. Such vivid color was unheard of for him. This was the first time anyone had seen him embrace something so bright.

But I keep the unholy thoughts to myself as I stab my fork in the salad in my plate while my eyes stay fixed at his side posture. Rowan yawned in between at which Lucas elbowed him in the ribs to get his undivided attention on the serious issue they are talking about. I put another piece of salad in my mouth, chewing slowly, while I observe him. He is dressed like a dangerous sin, in all black. His black shirt hugs his muscular chest in all the right places, sticking to his body like another layer of skin. His one hand is stuffed inside the pocket of his black narrow pants. He is like a threat everyone should feel scared of.

Noticing the flush on her ears, Lorenzo’s voice dropped, “Are you free tonight?” “Yeah,” she replied quickly. “Come with me to the hot springs. Let’s support Forrest.” Anna had been waiting for that. She had just gotten back to her private changing room, loosening her shirt, when she was surprised to see someone leaning against the wall. Compared to the clean white shirts and innocent smiles of the past, Lucas seemed like a completely different person. Or rather, this was his true self. Lucas was dressed in a plain black T-shirt, his pale skin contrasting with his slender frame. He held a cigarette between his fingers, looking both indifferent and distant.

“Good, because between the Grand Coven and the VC, I’m about ready to go live off the grid and answer to no one.” “You don’t have to live off the grid to answer to no one,” he says, coming back out and buttoning a white dress shirt. My stomach tightens when I look at him. I swear Lucas could wear anything and make it look sexual. Because right now, wearing black dress pants and that button-up shirt, he’s looking like an undead Christian Grey who’d love to play with me all night. “I don’t answer to anyone but myself.” I cock an eyebrow. “And you,” he adds with a grin.

The wind blows and the grass dances with the wind's tune. From a distance, I saw a black car. On the other side, there was Lucas, waiting for us with his hands in his pocket. He was wearing a simple V-neck shirt and dark blue pants. It is as if, he was just waiting for the arrival of his friends. Just calm and feeling cool. He might be handsome, but I want to punch that handsome face he got.

The food here is surprisingly better than what I used to eat in the faculty’s cafeteria. I hear them talk about their favourite show together while I eat my breakfast silently. Then, I turn my head and spot him sitting in a corner. The Black Tiger is alone in his table, peacefully reading a book while drinking his coffee. He isn’t wearing his leather uniform, this time he’s opting for a long-sleeved black sweater, ripped trousers and a black cap. I wonder how he could wear long sleeves while it’s hot. As expected, he isn’t talking to anyone. He’s living in his world, ignoring every existence.

His groan was low and satisfied. Luca stood, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. His body was lean muscle, olive skin stretched over defined abs and that perfect V that disappeared into his jeans. I’d seen him shirtless at the beach a hundred times, but never like this—never with that hungry look aimed at me. Jordan followed suit, stripping off his own shirt. Broader than Luca, shoulders strong from years of rock climbing, dark hair dusting his chest. They were beautiful separately, devastating together.

The voice was low, rough, and entirely too close. I froze. Slowly, I turned my head. Lucan was sitting in a high-backed armchair drawn right up to the edge of the bed. He wasn’t wearing his formal lord’s coat or his polished armor. He was in a simple black shirt, the sleeves rolled up, revealing the corded muscles of his forearms. His hair was disheveled, falling over his forehead in a way that made him look less like a ruthless commander and more like a man who had spent the entire night tearing himself apart.

We figured it was best to give them all some space to have their girl time. “Viv is going to be on the warpath if we are late,” Lucas says, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. He’s dressed in a black suit, with a light blue shirt that’s the same color as Viv’s eyes. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone allowing his and Viv’s mark to peek out. He drops onto the couch next to Darius, letting out a heavy sigh.