Patrick Dempsey Shirtless Novels & Stories

He stated, shaking his head and offering a faint smile. “How? You barely get any sleep.” I slightly frowned. “I get the amount of sleep I need.” “No, you don’t. Now, take your off shirt and get in.” I ordered him. Damiano looked at me with a raised brow. “And why do I need my shirt off?” “Because I’m addicted to seeing you shirtless. Hurry, I don’t have all day.” I said impatiently. “You’re getting a little too comfortable bossing me around.” He clicked his tongue, but still took off his shirt, leaving him in the delicious glory of his six-pack and tattoos.

he called back as he grabbed some clothes of his own. “Oh, no you don’t,” I warned, “It is not going to be one of those sessions. Not today Dmitri!” He came out in a pair of gym shorts and a sleeveless tee that stretched tight over the broad expanse of his chest while showing off the definition of the muscles in his shoulders and arms. I never got to see him dressed this casually; damn it, he still looked amazing. “I’m not leaving your side until we know your uncle is back on his side of the globe.”

The morning mist clung low to the ground, cool against my skin as I stepped outside. And then— I stopped. Damien was already there. Shirtless. Breathing slow and controlled, muscles moving fluidly beneath skin kissed by dawnlight. His hair was tied back loosely, a few strands falling against his neck, damp with sweat. He was stretching, rolling his shoulders like a predator preparing for a hunt. I felt it. That sharp, unwanted heat. Moon help me. I cleared my throat loudly. “Is a shirt illegal where you come from?” He turned.

Lana responded. The very next moment, the doors to the house push open, and Damien eclipses the sunlight coming in. He was wearing a high-necked, deep crimson shirt that looked outstanding against his skin. Lord help me. The shaggy black hair on his head had been tamed to a certain extent although it was still long. The shirt was made of some heavily silky material that draped across the broad expanse of his chest, clinging with loving detail to each chiseled muscled group. It was tucked into a pair of black pants tight enough to prove that he did hit the gym on daily basis. I swallowed hard and tried not to think about that. High, shiny black boots that came to his knees completed the outfi

Gripping. "Shit," I whispered, clutching my chest. His chin-length chocolate hair was tousled. He was shirtless with his hard torso on display for my hungry gaze above a pair of red and black, plaid pajama shorts that hung just low enough on his hips to make that V-line mouth-watering. "I didn't know you were home...or shirtless."

he said confidently. Daniel hesitated for a moment before beginning to remove his shirt. His voice, soft yet urgent, whispered, "Please don't be afraid." Slowly, he removed his shirt, revealing a well-toned physique that seemed almost unreal in its perfection. Without hesitation, he then took off his pants and boxers, leaving himself completely bare. His body was truly remarkable, every muscle defined and supple.

Right now, the sexy back clothes I was wearing a while ago have been covered by my thick coat. "Who dares to bring you here?" asked the man who offered me a drink. He has a familiar voice. OMG, dad?! I jerked my head upward to clearly see the man. "D-Damion?" He's not wearing any tops, so I saw his perfectly built abs. He wore denim pants and he was sweating. It added to his already hot aura!

"I was looking for the milk." ​"With a box of cold potatoes?" ​"They were on the same shelf." I finally turned to face him, leaning my lower back against the marble counter. ​Damien had changed out of his suit. He was wearing a pair of dark cotton trousers and a black crewneck sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was slightly messy, a rare departure from the sleek perfection he presented to the boardrooms. He looked human. He looked like the man who used to stay up with me until dawn, arguing over the acoustics of concert halls.

She didn't know what he intended to do, but she wanted more bare skin from him. He paused and pulled his T-shirt off. Under that was a dark vest made from Kevlar worn over a white undershirt. He winced as he ripped the Velcro straps free. Both vest and undershirt were shed quickly, giving her the first glimpse of a shirtless Evan. She sighed and smiled, pleased with the view. Miles of muscular planes sculpted his chest and stomach. He leaned over her and bumped her nose with his. "Happy?" She laid her palm against his chest. "Very. Now the pants."