Patrick J Adams Shirtless Novels & Stories

Reaching over, he grabs some tissues from the bedside table and hands them to me. I wipe my hands clean, and then I clean up his stomach. I can feel his eyes on me the whole time. Adam takes the used tissues from me and deposits them on the bedside table. Feeling kind of funny, being totally naked, I reach down and get his T- shirt from the floor. It’s his favorite shirt, which makes it my favorite. It’s a black Rolling Stones T-shirt, the one with the tongue sticking out of a mouth.

The door opened faster than I expected. Adam stood there shirtless, one hand on the door, his dark hair slightly damp like he had just stepped out of the shower. His eyes moved over my face first, then down to the robe tied around my waist, then back to my eyes. He didn’t smile or speak. He just looked at me like he already knew I had been fighting myself all the way here. I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. “Don’t look at me like that.” His hand tightened on the door. “Like what?”

The vultures had been systematically starved out of the market. "You're thinking too loud again, corporate queen," Adrian’s deep voice vibrated through the quiet room. He stepped out of the adjacent dressing room, completely barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of loose black linen trousers. His massive, muscular torso was completely exposed, the faint light of the sunset catching the intricate network of old tactical scars across his ribs and shoulders—stars of a war he had successfully fought to secure the peace they now held.

had driven parents all over the world mad! “What’s this?” suddenly huskily sounded behind me. I spun around and--- and for the love of---! Didn’t the man own any shirts?! Apparently not, because striding into the kitchen came a shirtless Prez, displaying all his sinfully goods and gorgeous tattoos. The howling wolf on his chest with his club’s name underneath it somehow drew my attention. It was freaking beautiful in a sensual, yet masculine way that I bet had all the girls swooning… “Cookies!” Cade happily exclaimed, proudly showing off her dough-mix fingers.

But she didn’t even realize he was shirtless until they entered the kitchen. That scene made her forget about what she was going to say in her defense. This was the last thing she was expecting to see, Adonis standing in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of skinny leg jeans and no shirt. He has an exquisite slender muscular physique. Adonis's body has very manly cuts with a nice long torso. He has really nice arms and shoulders. Adonis was standing at the counter with his back to Safira. Adonis's hair is still partially damp from the shower.

Things I couldn’t exactly find here. I guessed I’d just have to walk around braless, praying he doesn't notice. It was warm, so I chose a cream top—loose and long enough to reach my knees—and a pair of shorts that, surprisingly, fit perfectly. I walked out of the room, drawn by the faint sound of metal clinking against metal. Adrian stood by the kitchen counter, shirtless and really breathtaking. I could see some scars covered by tattoos, but I just shifted my focus to what he was doing instead.

Only to come face-to-face with Adam Kennedy. Except he wasn’t as put together as he was that morning. For one, like me, he was shirtless, but he’s stripped out of his undershirt, showcasing a fairly impressive set of abs. His skin was dotted with perspiration, and his chest was heaving. He was gripping the bathroom walls like he couldn’t stand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something was terribly wrong. “Hey, dude, are you okay? What’s going on there?” I asked.

She would end up naked after a fight. Addison carelessly opened the door and screamed in annoyance. "Don't you have manners?" To her surprise, there was Adonis standing outside her suite, wearing a baby pink long-sleeve polo shirt, denim pantaloons and a black tic-tac shoe. And she can't blame her eyes adored the man in front of her. He screams maleness and masculinity. But his eyes telling different story. She could clearly see the anger in his eyes and amusement at the same time as he wandered his eyes over hers.

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.

“You want to watch me take off my clothes?” He smiled that dangerous smile again. “Yes, please.” My hands moved across the hem of my shirt; slowly, I took it off. Adam watched me with an intense gaze, eyeing me up. I unhooked my pants and took off my pants. Now all I was wearing was my red under. “Gosh! You're so hot!” Adam exclaimed from where he sat on the bed. His boner in his pants got even harder. My hands moved to the strap of my bra, and I slid it down my shoulder. I unhooked the bra, and my boobs fell out.