Milo Manheim Shirtless Novels & Stories

Biting her lower lip, Milena slowly opened her eyes, meeting the dark gaze of a young, handsome man. The man before her was tall, broad-shouldered, and shirtless. Water still dripped from his damp hair, trailing down his toned chest before disappearing beneath the towel slung low on his hips. Dangerous. Everything about him screamed danger. From the sharpness of his jawline to the way his dark eyes studied her like a predator. He was half-naked. A gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it. She lowered her head, never expecting him to be this exposed.

Nope, instead I got the man walking toward me in his grey five piece suit, perfectly tousled hair, and a clean shaven jaw. Milo walked toward me with a shit-eating grin on his face. "You look miserable," he growled so only I could hear him. "This dress is strangling the breath from my lungs," I whispered back. "Don't worry. I'll be removing it with my teeth before long." His statement sent chills down my spine as I shifted uncomfortably in my spot. Even his presence made me uncomfortable, let alone the stupid remarks that came from his lips.

There he was as I stepped out of the elevator onto the parking lot. Instead of his usual suit, Mr. Miller stood beside a sleek Porsche, wearing a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, blue denim jeans, and athletic shoes. He had left the top buttons of his shirt undone, exposing his chiselled chest. His smirk pulled me out of my trance, and I hastily looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring at him.

He was shirtless and had his back turned, his boy was tanned, and boy was he ripped, his arms were huge, I know they were from the clothes he wore but seeing him bareback was a different story. “Taking your fill I see” shit, I've been caught staring.

But as she took in his visuals, she could not help but be mesmerized by his sharp jawline, thick eyelashes, slim nose, also, his bare chest decorated with abs and muscles that defined the word perfection. Her cheeks flushed when she realised she was gawking like a hawk at a man's bare chest for the past fifteen minutes. No one taught him manners it seems Miliani muttered under her breath, trying to ease the rising guilt of her own actions, as he was sleeping with his upper body naked in someone else's presence. But it wasn't her fault, she had never seen any man's bare body before, especially not one as perfectly sculpted as his.

This was the very Milo who ranked first among the ten toughest people! He was the leader of Firebrand Base, a man who was said to have reduced his own base down to nothing but the last few survivors. When he heard Liam's voice, the man in the mask reached up and pulled off the black face cover. A tan, sun-darkened face appeared. Milo's face was lean, with a hint of foreign blood. His features were sharp and rugged, his brows heavy, his nose high and straight, and his eyes a clear amber color. Everything about him looked hard and unbreakable.

Shay had platinum white hair, covered in tattoos of dark black swirls all over his torso. “Fuck,” I muttered, turning to Milo, “how long has Denton been gone?” Milo scowled, looked over my shoulder and shrugged, “I was watching you get pummelled by a rookie Ivan,” he sneered. “I’ve got to go,” and bolted over the ropes.

an even voice comments as Miles steps up to the table. I groan internally. He looks hot. He is dressed in a v-neck, white t-shirt, his leather jacket over the top and dark pants. He has sunglasses pushed into his hair, even though it's nighttime. His muscles can be seen through his t-shirt and I suddenly wish he wasn't here while I was drunk because my mind is suddenly imagining me licking those rock-hard abs of his and now I'm questioning myself as a human being.

Isabelle must be home, I can't wait to finally meet her face to face. “Hello,” I call out as I shuffle inside, dragging one bag and pushing the other inside with my foot. “Isabelle?” I muster but gasp out in shock standing in surprise. There’s a boy! No.. Not just a boy—a MAN, standing in the living room shirtless. His back is to me, and it's cut in a million different directions with thick muscles and deep grooves. He's wearing gray jogging pants, his ass is round, firm, and clenches tightly as he turns around.

That's Marionne's thoughts. "I don't care about those rich kids. I just want to study and graduate with honor." Marionne said seriously. "Don't be too serious, man. D.A, by the way." She extended her hand. Marionne looked at the extended hand in front of him. If you didn't notice the chest binder she's wearing underneath that men's shirt, you wouldn't know that she's a lesbian. Hell, she's even more handsome than Marionne. "Marionne." He finally took her hand."