Patrick Bateman Shirtless Novels & Stories

The gunshot memories from last night makes my breath heavy, and the sight of one fearless man fighting against a group of gangsters replays in my mind. What if he wasn't there to protect me? My chest heaves as fear engulf me all over again. But I'm safe now. He saved me once again. Patrick stands up, still dressed in his neat white suit with a black unbuttoned shirt, his hairy chest half-exposed in a senseless yet eye-catching design, and perhaps the twenty-years-old me would be enthralled to just jump on him and rip his shirt off. Not anymore.

As quick as it had started, he pulled away, ending anything before it got started. I turned at the rustling of fabric behind me. He stood before me, a shirtless god, all hard muscles and tattoos. His charcoal gray, slim fit tailored dress pants hugging his body perfectly. He gave a smirk as he turned and thumbed through his shirts, searching for the perfect match for his mood. He pulled a dark burgundy shirt off of a hanger and slid it over his body. I stood transfixed as he rolled the sleeves up his forearms, leaving his tattooed forearms bare. He made no move to hide his burning gaze as he left the top three buttons undone showing the delicious skin of his collarbone and a tattoo of a Celt

It took a second to adjust to the gloom when I patted my lashes, my breath caught in my throat and my eyes dilated in surprise. Directly in front of me, was Adrian. He was shirtless, his muscular back glistening with droplets of water, and his pants were unbuttoned, the zipper halfway down. He hadn't noticed me yet; he was too preoccupied with fumbling with his belt, his movements hurried and tense. "What the fuck? You should get out?" He yelled at whoever must have been with him inside the bathroom

He was wearing khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, and she had on a short leather skirt with dark stockings and spiked heels, a white blouse that displayed a generous amount of braless cleavage, and a short string of pearls around her neck. The next photo showed Beth sitting in the theater with strangers in the seats on either side of her. One had his pants down to his ankles, and the other had his boner pulled out through his fly. Beth had a hand wrapped around each of their dicks. Their hands were on her tits, which were on full display through her open blouse.

“I have to go on patrol. The second shift at the plant will let out and I have to make sure traffic . . . laws are being obeyed. Then, I have to come back here and look at the notes from 1st and 2nd shift to see if there is anything I need to look out for.” Patty pouted. She only had one trick up her sleeve. She hoped it would work. “Oh, all right. I guess I’ll just have to take a cold shower then.” Patty quickly unbuttoned her coat to reveal that she was naked. Goldman’s eyes bugged out. “You . . . you . . . came down here . . . naked?” “I did, but I can see that effort was wasted,” Patty said as she took the coat off. She tossed it on the bench.

The door was slightly ajar, and soft sounds of movement and heavy breathing drifted out. I stopped right at the edge of the doorframe, pressing my back against the wall, and peeked in through the gap. Oh. My. God. He was there. Shirtless. Gone were the suits, the crisp shirts, the buttons, the ties. He was wearing only dark grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, no shirt, no shoes, nothing else. His back was to me, hands gripping the pull-up bar high above him, and he was moving—smoothly.

Bennett sets the young boy — who I'm holding out hope might be his nephew, even if he did call him Daddy — on the couch and watches with his hands on his hips as a little boy goes back to coloring. At no point does anyone stop to explain the small child's presence in Bennett's home. Maybe I hit my head and this is all a dream. Maybe a bullet hit me after all and I'm dead. Most of my dreams starring Bennett end with him getting naked. I narrow my eyes and stare at the two of them super hard for a good four seconds, but Bennett is definitely wearing the standard Pelican Bay Security black polo shirt. Tucked into his jeans, the fabric is pulled tightly against his chest creating a nice little o

Brian who I never expected to still be in the room turned my way and a word was blurted out from his mouth "Gorgeous" I just shook my head and was about to enter the walk-in closet when I remembered that nothing was inside, I looked at Brian and noticed that he was no longer shirtless, a white shirt complimented the black pants he was wearing, and an expensive black belt in place with office black shoe. He looked like a handsome young man going for an interview, and no matter how his white office shirt covered his body it still couldn't hide the outline of his hot body, I shook the thoughts out of my head "Can you leave, please? I wanna change" I said.

She had to use all her willpower not to let the sip of chocolate drip out of her mouth as she looked at Bane. He had taken a shower and was dressed in dark blue sleep pants in some silky material that hung low on his hips, showing off his toned upper-body. It was the first time Emma had seen him shirtless and, even though she knew he was muscular, nothing had prepared her for the black tattoos that covered his torso and arms to below his elbows. She had never understood the fascination with tattoos until that moment. She had an urge to run her fingers along them.

"Clean off your body with sand. Call us back once you are dressed." "My shirt?" I asked as I held up the ensanguined shirt. For some reason, I felt the desert camouflage pattern was ruined. "He can go shirtless," Priya suggested quickly. Mona and Rachel nodded. 'Showered in pig's blood'...I didn't recall seeing that on a Cosmo sex quiz. I shuddered to think whose sexual survey would...oh, right, it was on the Satan's Sluts' To-do List.