Novel & Cerita Patrick Bateman Shirtless

"She’s like an angel." I forced a smile, my cheeks burning as I walked over to Paxton. He was already in the pool, wearing nothing but a tight pair of black boxers that did absolutely nothing to hide his tattoos—or the bulging huge cock. My breath caught for a moment. "Come on, let’s swim," he said, grinning as he stretched his hand out to me.

As I jot down the time of the party to recollect it, Amber exclaims, "OMG, who is that incredibly attractive guy?" Curious to see who Amber is talking about, I turn to see, and my mouth falls open in disbelief. It is Nate about to walk past us in the corridor. He is no longer wearing his nerd glasses or his head covered with his hoodie. He wears a dark green long-sleeve shirt that shows off his six-pack and the brawny features of his body. He pulls up the sleeves on his long arm—not enough to reveal his tattoo. His fitted black pants reveal the length of his leg, and dark shoes complement his outfit. He's taller than every guy in the school I've known, and his black hair is low-cut.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” Out of defiance, Cato finished the kiss before he slowly pulled away. “You would have to be important to be an interruption. And you aren’t important.” Bates was in a black suit, dangerous and handsome like his brother. He had the same eyes and the same coldness—but he was definitely more arctic. His hands were in his pockets, and he glanced at me with obvious dislike. “I have Mr. Wong on a conference call. Thought you’d want to say a few words.”

I assured him. “I’m here at a souvenir shop. Will that be enough?” “Hmm, you have to tell me the color of your shirt so that he can recognize you right away,” I told him. “I am shirtless and just wearing a board short and a slipper. Black cap and black sunglass.” Did he have to include the fact that he was shirtless? I took a deep breath while trying not to imagine his overall appearance at the moment, but I could sense from his voice that he was handsome.

He had just one tattoo drawing, on his heart area, like a comic parody of — is that Cat Woman? And more than that, he emitted a darker aura than the other two. For the love of God, are those abs even real? They were all so fucking ripped, like those men who give hardcore BDSM fucks in those p**n videos I watch with Gilda. Oh gosh! Was this the sex suite? The one sitting seemed ripped, as his shirt fit him like a glove, stretching out his muscles, and also the one standing with a phone, he was fucking ripped. But the one dressed in black and had a shirt on his shoulder? He was fucking shredded. A buff fellow, my God!

I stride in, calculating each step just in case he's as pissed as Michelle was. “Camilla.” I jump when he says my name because I can't see him. A second later he comes into frame. I suck in a breath trying not to stare at him, he is shirtless, wearing a pair of charcoal grey pajama pants. I try not to gawk at him but I find myself watching his upper body, my gaze trails on his tattoos, so flawlessly inked on his ever glowing skin. The mark of the pack sitting right above his bicep.

The door opened and I stood facing Damien. He looked tired like I had just woken him. But when he saw me standing in front of him, his face turned into something like surprise. “Anila?” He whispered. I bit my lower lip; this was the first time I had seen Damien shirtless, and I wasn’t disappointed. He had a nicely built 6 pack, which was insane to me because I didn’t know he was athletic. He wore pajama pants, but they were hanging off his waistline and left no mystery of what lay underneath.

There he was. Richard Barton. Tall. Wet. Shirtless. A towel hung from one hand as he ran it through his damp hair, water trickling down his sculpted torso. Each drop slid past defined abs, across inked skin, over the sharp V-line that disappeared into— Oh. My. God. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes involuntarily dropped—then widened in full-blown panic. He wasn't wearing anything. Annabelle's brain short-circuited like someone yanked the main power switch. Her scream tore out before she could stop it. She spun around, slapped her hands over her mouth, and squeezed her eyes shut in horror.

Hermy added. Ben finally pulled away from me and walked around the dining table. That was when I noticed he was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. His upper body was a perfect blend of lean muscle and strength without looking overwhelming. Broad shoulders, a chiseled chest, and abs I want to trace with my tongue and fingers. His waist is dangerously narrow where it disappears into the fabric of his pants. Fuck. I’m practically creaming in my panties. A tattoo of thorny veins wraps around his right arm, snaking from his wrist to his shoulder.

Josh Batton smiled gently as he followed bodyguards into the mall with Annabeth Cates next to him. While he did so, he raised his hand and kept waving at his fans… Wherever he looked, people were screaming crazily… Their voices were shrill. There were even female fans who felt suffocated because they couldn’t handle how good Josh looked… Josh wore a champagne-colored silk shirt and a pair of light purple pants. He also had a casual, ash-green windbreaker on the outside and a pair of white sneakers.