Patrick Bateman Shirtless Novels & Stories

He continued guiding the route and I continued following him but…. I had to stop myself and guess, close my eyes too. Out of nowhere, he starts taking off his shirt and then his white t-shirt which he was wearing. What the hell? Am I supposed to close my eyes or open them? I have not seen any men shirtless before. What should I do? I tried peeking through my fingers while covering my eyes with my hands. So this is how they look like when men are shirtless. I have, not for a moment had imagined a guy can be so attractive without a shirt. His perfect 8 abs, white but bit tanned skin, broad arms….How can someone be so perfect?

She stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor, and her eyes immediately landed on him. Nathan stood near the edge of the room, his back to her, shirtless and glistening with sweat. The muscles of his shoulders and back rippled as he toweled off, the fabric of his workout shorts clinging to his hips. Emma’s breath caught in her throat. She had seen glimpses of his physique before—the tailored suits he wore left little to the imagination—but this was something else entirely. He was raw, unguarded, and utterly breathtaking.

Pamela struggled to hide her groan. Before them stood a shirtless DJ. His left hand clung tightly onto the handle of a tool box. He looked as though he was pulled out from the covers of men's magazines. His strong muscled chest, oily with sweat and his well defined chisel Adonis V was a sight to behold. Ashley swallowed. She had never seen him shirtless. She had never seen him this indecently sexy. “Ashley?” DJ called, surprise filled his tone. “DJ, I think -” A feminine voice called from behind Ashley and Pamela.

I turned to offer him the water to find his shirt off and his tan chest on display for the world to see. In any other scenario, even the most devout of lesbians would have swooned-or at least stopped to admire the attraction-but the funk radiating off his clothes took precedence over his beauty. He took the hose and began to spray the chunks off his T-shirt and then held it out for me to hold. I watched as he unbuttoned his shorts and then slid them off, laying them flat on the ground. I wasn't sure if West, Collier, or Brutus stood next to my house in nothing but his boxers, and I didn't want to find out if there was a personality I hadn't met.

I answer way too fast while I'm backing away from the guys. "Wait, do you have shorts on under my shirt." Paxton asks as he is trying to lift the shirt up. "You mean my shirt, right?" I laugh out. "Raise the shirt Aspen!" Dimitri grumbles. "I can't." I whine. Paxton quickly lifts the shirt and they have a sight in front of them. I'm in really short as hell shorts. When Paxton lowers the shirt Orion quickly turns me around and both items are out in plain sight. I turn back around and bring the items in front of me. I can't help it I love taking my mates' things.

“Sophia Turner! Get out here!” A man came down the stairs from the second floor. He was wearing my silk pajamas. My slippers. A baseball bat rested in one hand. Only two buttons on the pajama shirt were fastened, exposing a large, ugly tattoo across his chest. He was broad-shouldered, thickset, with a scar at the corner of his mouth. Victor Zimmerman. The man from the photo. “What are you yelling for?” He scratched at one ear, smirking as he spun the bat in his hand. “It’s early. Quit making a scene.”

"What!" I said frighteningly as I step backward. "Take off your damn clothes Nala and quit making things hard for yourself," the alpha told me as I saw him quickly take off his shirt. Allowing me to see his hard muscular chest and his six-pack. My heart begins to race within my chest and my two feet begin to tremble. "What are you doing Mr. Bate?' I said frighteningly as I turn my head aside, feeling very uncomfortable about seeing his bare hard chest before me.

I'm not a virgin but being a slut for Patt isn't my thing? Patt hates blondes and he never uses me since I'm his soldier to begin with. "And you have seen a lot of naked girls? So that's why you're comfortable?" I asked as I unbuttoned my shirt back facing him "Quite a lot" Manwhore "Quick.. we don't have time!" He hissed as he walked to the window again. I opened my shirt and dropped it on the floor. I unzipped my jeans and left only in my underwear. I took out my bra's strap since the dress is strapless.

“I don’t use other people’s clothes.” Then I recalled a video YouTube kept suggesting but I’d never watched, simply because the title was just too ludicrous: Every Time Brandon Price Took His Shirt Off While Investigating, or something like that. The thumbnail didn’t offer much detail, but it was plain to see it was a collage with at least six different pictures. Meaning he’d done it more than once or twice. So I decided to try my luck. “Well, it’s warm in here, and bet your fans will love the chance of seeing you without your shirt again.”

God, she was pretty. And she was wearing the shirt, which made me smile behind my hand. That shirt was what had drawn me to her in the first place. A crossover from two of my favorite shows, it depicted Lucille, the bat from The Walking Dead, and the Winchester’s Chevy Impala from Supernatural, with text that read, “Dad’s still on a hunting trip.” A fan of both shows, I’d understood the message and laughed the first time I’d seen it, wishing I had a shirt like that. It’d actually taken me a couple of seconds to realize the material of that shirt stretched across a very lovely set of feminine breasts. When my brain finally registered what I was seeing, my eyebrows perked up and my gaze wander