Patrick J Adams Shirtless Novels & Stories

Adrian stood in the kitchen, shirtless. And not just shirtless—gloriously shirtless. Muscles defined and lightly scarred, abs tensing as he reached for a mug from the top shelf, the curve of his back drawing her eyes like a magnet. He wore only gray sweatpants, riding low on his hips. His hair was still damp from a recent shower, curling slightly at the nape. He hadn’t seen her yet. She should’ve turned back. But she didn’t.

Pete speaks and Adam turns around to answer him but pauses for a while when he sees Mariah. Adam is not wearing a shirt. Mariah’s heart races, it is her first time seeing him without a shirt on. He’s not wearing a suit and is in comfy trousers. Mariah gulps and her ears turn red. Mariah steals glances and is trying not to stare at his abs. Adam catches Mariah trying to avoid eye contact and it makes him grin.

I need to be sure that I wake up before he does to get it hidden. It was well past midnight by the time we had everything put away and my clothes in the wash. I finally had a clean pair of underwear and was wearing my new favorite shirt as pajamas, making Adam roll his eyes at me. ‘I’m with Stupid’ was in large black letters across my chest, the slightly small shirt making my breasts strain the letters a little. I couldn’t help but let out a giggle when he saw it, but then stopped when I realized his eyes were not on the words.

She smirked cutely. Adam observed her from top to bottom. A crop top, light blue hot pants....she didn't seem that poor. "You think I'm poor?" Adam smiled bitterly. "Your shirt is torn." She pointed at his back. His hands went to his back and there was a very big torn. He sighed understanding why everyone was looking at him that strangely. "And you seemed short of dresses." He tried to ease the awkwardness. "Actually I'm. You know I had a jeans. I cut it into pieces to make three." She blinked her eyes.

“And thank you for understanding.” “Then join me in the pool?” I grinned. “Of course.” “Great. For now, let’s just enjoy the water.” Adam pulled his shirt off, revealing his smooth, ripped bare chest and six-pack, then he slid his sport shorts down—leaving only a pair of dark blue swimming trunks. His eyes glued to mine as if tempting me to jump onto him. I could just watch him do this all day. I crossed my arms. “You have to do that, huh?”

I nodded Ander out and he left, leaving Adamson and me behind. For the first time in a long time, he looked… fresh! Lively. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white shirt, with no tie. He had a black belt holding his pants tight and secured around his waist and he looked quite dashing for the old man. I stood up and ushered him into the seat in front of me, “Pops, what are you doing here?” The word escaped my lips leaving the both of us shocked to the core, but I was quick to mask it all and cleared my throat.

Adam was in a white and black, vertical stripped short-sleeve shirt, Grey tapered jeans trouser with white, fitting sneakers. “I’m just so amazed by your politeness. You opened the door for me and carried my bag. It reminds me of the first time me met. Even though the drink only stained your shirt, you were concerned about me. You’re such a perfect gentleman.” I praised, watching a small smile creek out of his full kissable lips. Adam’s steady eyes, glittering at mine, suddenly looked away. ‘Wait, was he shy? What’s going through his mind right now?’ I wanted yo know. My eyes widened amidst the curiosity.

There was Adam who was opening one by one his shirt worm. Her intention was to keep her eyes peeled, but Jes's eyes refused to close. Jes saw Adam who was unbuttoning his shirt until it ran out, until he showed Adam's body shape clearly. Broad chest, muscular arms and stomach boxes like torn bread. Almost perfect made Jes gulp down her saliva. Adam threw his shirt all over the place. His hands shifted to unbuckling his belt, Jes quickly closed her eyes. She didn't want to see what he shouldn't have seen.

Must be nice to be rich. I knocked on the door twice, knowing he was home since his Lamborghini was parked in the garage. After a minute, I heard faint footsteps growing louder until the door swung open, revealing Adam. He had taken off his jacket, but otherwise, he was still in his work clothes—a light blue Thomas shirt, Armani pants and shoes, and a navy blue Brioni tie that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

"Instead of standing together and facing this as a pack, as a family... How many of you still want to leave?" No one speaks. He steps back and Adam comes forward, standing before everyone, with an air of authority around him. He looks sexy in khaki pants and a button-down shirt, the first few buttons being left undone. His hair is slightly tousled, like he had run a hand through it several times. 'I wish I was the one whose hand went through...' Hold on. The thought surprises me, a blush warming my cheeks. Where did that even come from?