Patrick Bateman Shirtless Novels & Stories

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.

Contrary to what I’d expected, his touch wasn’t cold—it was scorching, and it burned through my skin and muscles until I felt its warmth in the pit of my stomach. I swallowed hard. Stupid hormones. “What? We’re already late, and they’re closing soon.” “You can’t go out like that.” The tiniest hint of disapproval etched into the corners of his mouth. “Like what?” I asked, confused. I wore jeans and a T-shirt, nothing scandalous. Peter inclined his head toward my chest. I glanced down and let out a horrified yelp. Because my shirt? White. Wet. Transparent. Not even a little transparent, like you could kind of see my bra outline if you looked hard enough. This was full-on see-through. Red lace

I said softly. "Come in," he said. When I walked into the room, I froze holding onto the door handle. Nate was standing in front of me, shirtless. He had a towel tied around his waist and he was using the other to dry his hair. He looked down at his body when he saw my shock. "Oh, shit, sorry." He replied, rushing off into his closet. When he emerged, he was fully clothed but it was too late. The image of his shirtless chest and chiseled abs was already engraved in my memory. It did something to me. Right now, I was throwing caution to the wind.

God who was this Pierce and what had he done with my unfeeling, no emotion showing Pierce? “I was actually hoping on Angie’s presence today to get rid of this badger on my face, could you…help me with it?” I paused, the image of me over a shirtless, a razor pressed to his skin as I exposed his sexy, utterly lickable jawline. Why was he shirtless in my head? Did people need to get shirtless to shave? “I would leave it longer but it’s really starting to bother me. Itching and all that.” He added impishly.

She blushed and changed in the bathroom into them, plus thick socks. When she came out, Ethan was in the bathroom. When he came out, he was wearing... only sweatpants. No shirt. Elise, who was arranging the pillow wall, looked up and froze. Ethan Blackwood without a shirt was... not human. He was broad shoulders, hard chest, abs that looked carved from stone, a V-line that disappeared into his sweatpants, and a small scar on his left rib. His skin was slightly tanned, his muscles tight from boxing every morning at 5 a.m.

"You totally have a six-pack." "Of course I do. I work out. Hellur?" He tugged his shirt down and glanced behind Bethany as they all stood around the table. "Get your woman off of me. She's likely to fall for my beauty, creating a fissure between us that I don't want and you don't need." Bethany rolled her eyes and moved to Damon, wrapping her arms around him. His white button down shirt was loose and made for the beach. "You look good."

Brittany said then they glance at Brittany who is wearing rashguard honestly speaking Brittany, is not a fan of sexy things she's more like a fitted suits but not that daring and She's more comfortable with rashguards than bikini. Most of the Slave wear bikinis except for her but she didn't even care, she's like that she want to suits her taste not to others taste. "Hello..," a very deep baritone voice resounded on there ears, and most of the slave giggle when they hear the voice it's there most favorite person it's King Shun Yu, she's wearing white beach style sleeveless shirt and trunks King Shun Yu defines for a hot bachelor model she's a definition of power and dominant's even in swimwea