Nick Robinson Shirtless Novels & Stories

As she was sipping on the cappuccino with her tongue licking the spec of cream on the side of her lips, Noah arrived in front of her. He was not dressed in any flashy outfit but a simple sleeveless swear shirt and a pair of shorts. Shannon stared at him with blood shot eyes. She placed her cup down onto the saucer and tapped her long nails onto the table. “Are you seriously wearing… that?” She asked with disgust. It was humiliating for her to be seating with him like that. A crowd of whispers soon filled her ears, causing her even more embarrassment. “What’s wrong with this?” Noah questioned with a dumbstruck tone as he flexed his muscles to impress her.

I am wearing a white crop top with a jean jacket, skinny jeans, and some white sneakers; my hair is in a high ponytail, and I only have eyeliner and some lip gloss on. “I’m done, ready to go down?” I asked Rose. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.” Rose replies. "Are you ready for everyone to see you and Nick holding hands today?” Rose asks. “I’m ready to show everyone he belongs to me; even though we are not fated, or at least I don’t think we are, he will always be my chosen.” I answer and smile. “I’m so happy you guys don’t have to hide anymore.” Rose says so and smiles.

They look like trash. "Look at the bed, Selene," he says. His voice is deep like thunder. I look back. The bed sheets have a red spot on them. My heart goes so fast. "I am taking your big white shirt," I say. I pull the shirt tight around my body. It covers my legs down to my knees. "Goodbye!" "Do not leave," he says. But I run fast. I do not look back. LUCIAN POV "Get up here right now, Raze Blackclaw," I talk into my phone. I am mad.

"I'll play." Chase gave me a wink. "Let's see what the big boy is playing with." Turning, I crawled out of the ring and took safety in the closest foldout chair. Something coiled between my legs as he pulled himself through the ropes and stripped his t-shirt off. Declan cracked his neck and swiped the closest gloves. Every muscle in his back was tight and coiled beneath tanned skin. His broad shoulders screamed sex appeal and sent waves of heat to no-man's-land.

Anna So... I've made a new discovery. Robin came home, showered, and now he is standing half-naked inside the kitchen and... I think I'm lost in my husband. I mean, it should be illegal to look like that... Those abs. Those slabs of pecs. My throat feels parched as I stand by the kitchen counter. The muscles flex in Robin's big arm every time he wipes that blue towel against his handsome face. Straight out of the shower, shirtless with a happy trail leading down to his Calvin Klein boxers.

Across the deck, under a rustic awning of white fabric on tall wooden supports, all decked with blue, red and white flowers, the red party waited: Jim Robinson right under the awning, with his brother and Liam McDonnell, No Return’s other guitarist, to his right. They wore Renaissance white shirts with long bag sleeves and laces sprouting from cuffs and collars. Black leather vests, down to their thighs, and broad red sashes hanging from their left shoulder across their chest, black trousers and high leather boots. Long red cloaks covered their right shoulder, falling all the way to brush the top of their boots. Liam McDonnell held a vertical red banner trimmed in gold, with a big golden su

It was more of a dealership showroom than a domicile. They proceeded to the aft deck, where Clarkson Roberts was leaning against the railing. He had shed his suit jacket and tie. He wore a crisp, perfectly fitted white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and dark pants. The unformalized attire was more persuasive than the power suit; it was a demonstration of confidence so absolute he didn't require formal armor. He stood looking out over the water, the sun of the afternoon goldening his profile. He didn't even turn as Jonah approached. "Jones."

I choke on my words. "Yes or no?" He asks, holding out the shirt he had worn today in his hands. A smile is playing on his lips. I contemplate. I'm wearing a hoodie and some skinny jeans. Would a shirt be better than choking to death on the hood of my top? Yes. "Yeah." I say softly. I'm wearing underwear, so it's not like I'll be naked. Plus, he's a lot bigger than me. Ramon grins, and tosses he shirt my way. I sit frozen when he unbuttons his jeans and kicks them off leaving him in only his underwear.

I ask when he lays me down on the bed and lies down beside me. "Dealing with some very important matters," Nicollas says, stroking my belly. "Why are you shirtless?" I question with one raised eyebrow, starting to sniff, only to make sure there's no other female's scent on him. "I went for a run to relieve stress." "Shirtless?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and burning with jealousy on the inside. After all, only I should see my man's chest. "I ran naked," he says calmly, and I widen my eyes and punch his arm. "Ow! That hurt," Nicollas says, massaging his arm.

“WOLVES!” I steal a glance over at them - totally by accident, of course. My eyes find Ronan almost instantly. He’s in that sleeveless training shirt that makes it impossible not to notice the way his shoulders flex when he moves. He wipes sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt, and suddenly, hello abs. Tight, tan, and carved like they’ve been sculpted out of arrogance and gym hours.