Patrick Dempsey Shirtless Novels & Stories

“I do not have nudes, and if I did, I wouldn’t share them. However, we all attended the same martial arts class, so I have shirtless pics, I’m sure.” “I’ll take what I can get.” Pam laughed, taking another swig from the bottle. I was busy swiping through my album, only to stop when I got to the last picture Daisuke had sent me a month before. He thought texting me a sexy pic would turn into something, but I’d been serious when I told him it was a one-time deal. I sighed, looking at the shirtless pic where Daisuke had his hand tugging his jeans down slightly to show that he was eithern’t wearing underwear or had pulled them down to show his skin.

With that insufferably perfect chest and those arms that look like they were designed specifically to make women forget their own names. Focus, Josephine. Because if I don’t control this story, someone else will. And their version won’t end with bad publicity—it’ll end with body bags. That’s when he emerges from his room. Still shirtless. Because apparently God has a sick sense of humor. Water droplets cling to his shoulders and slide down his chest like they’re taking the scenic route. He’s wearing gray sweatpants that hang so low they’re basically advertising what’s underneath. Every muscle seems designed for maximum temptation, and I’m suddenly very aware that my brain has completely aban

After a long shower, I found myself standing outside Alex’s door. I knew this was my chance. I knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. I was about to turn away when the door finally creaked open. Alex stood there, shirtless. My throat went dry. He was dressed in only jeans as his upper body was naked to my greedy eyes. He looked… exhausted. Like he had just gotten back from handling the mess with my father. His usual cool demeanor was stripped away, leaving something raw and worn beneath it.

I was looking at Alpha Damon shirtless. The first view I woke up to in the morning was that of a shirtless Alpha. His chest was massive and broad and his muscles bulged before my eyes. The view before my eyes was mouth watering. He was not too muscular and he was not too skinny. He was the perfect build that any girl could imagine. I could come to love this man if he was not such a beast. I did not realise it but I must have stared too long because his sinister smile came again, this time even more thwarted.

I guess it's true what they say: at times, your attire is all you need to boost your confidence. I walked out of the room, only to halt in my tracks as Damien's door opened at the same time. He stepped out, shirtless—a sore sight for my eyes—his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, sending my eyes crashing down to the V-line disappearing into his pants. Dragging my eyes up to his face, I noticed that he was dead-staring at me, his lips curled up at the edge. I turned away quickly, trying to walk past but was stopped when he advanced toward me.

Harper, wearing only pants, flaunted his bare chest and abs without a care. "Why won't you call me your husband? You're so tough about it. Or are you saving that title for someone else?"

Being in the shower is so relaxing; Jeremy always thought it sounded like rain and could escape the world along with its pressure. Jeremy got dressed in very nice dark denim jeans that hugged his thighs and calves as he slightly kept up his athletic form; it made his butt look so juicy. He wore a black compression t-shirt that clung onto his muscular torso and a black button-down dress shirt that was always pretty tight as his biceps were just big enough that every long sleeve seemed to look like it was going to burst by the seams. Jeremy fixed his hair a modern pompadour with somewhat shaved sides and combed his medium rugged beard. Once Jeremy was ready for the League meetings, he went to

"Good excuse for not having to do the dishes, isn't it?" "The cook never has to wash the dishes," Mom answered. Once he was gone, she turned to me. “I have to tell you, Theresa, he's growing in my opinion. And my dad chimed in with: - I agree. I smile at them. “Damien has that effect. Now, I better change too. He had left the door ajar, and when I walked in I found him shirtless, wearing his Same pants he'd worn in Honolulu, rocking a short-sleeved cotton shirt.

After a while the door opened revealing a shirtless Dubem. This guy. He was always shirtless. Always. Except we were to leave the house for a serious issue. Like this dude has gone out to buy pizza shirtless before, good thing he took a car. I won't lie, he had a great body. Neat and heavily built, but why rub it on our faces. I made a bet with myself that the day he wears a shirt for 24 hours straight, I'll walk around the house with only pant. It's never going to happen so don't anticipate. lol . We walked in, one after the other, even if the door was big enough to pass in threes.

He barely made it an inch of the way before he collapsed back onto the bed. “There is no need for formalities.” Grateful that they had excused his manners, Dempsey laid back down. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he groaned. “You have always been stubborn. A quality that endeared you to me. And one that saved your life.” Dempsey moved his hand to look at the older man as he walked over to the bed. The man sported a clean, shaved head, his face not giving away his age. It was the first time Dempsey was seeing him out of a suit; his purple silk shirt, the family crest embroidered on the top right, and loose-fitted pants were a fresh look on him.