Patrick J Adams Shirtless Novels & Stories

It was past 2:00 AM, and my eyes felt like someone had rubbed sand into them. On the other side of the room, Adrian had finally shed his corporate armor. His midnight-black vest and silk tie were tossed over the back of an armchair. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up past his forearms, revealing the lean, muscular build he usually hid under structured suits. His dark hair was a total mess from where he had been running his fingers through it for the last three hours. He didn't look like the untouchable, perfect Ice King anymore. He just looked like a man fighting for his life, and for some reason, that made him far more terrifying—and far more human.

God help me. I was still processing everything—Adam’s damp body, that smirk, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the air—when he casually peeled open the closet door and began pulling out his silk pajamas. My gaze followed, purely by accident. Or instinct. Or trauma. And then— He slipped into the pajama pants. No underwear. None. Not a thread. I blinked slowly. Swallowed harder. Looked away immediately, ears burning.

’ Closer this time. ‘I’m here man,’ I call out, wrapping the towel around my hips, my hair still letting the occasional wet stray of water fall down my back. Adam enters, dressed to impress in tight dark jeans, black shirt unbuttoned to his chest so his tattoo can be seen. It had taken Adam a week to get the whole thing done. It went from his right thigh, around his back and curled around to his left chest, should and arm. He had designed it himself, an homage to his Maori culture. His hair is cut close to his head and his dark eyes grins at me.

Ash blushed even before he met with Adom. “Hi, Adom. We have been expecting you.” Jenny smiled as she leaned on the door and Adom beamed. He was wearing neat and clean with a light yellow Hawaiian shirt over a white T-shirt and casual comfortable pair of 3 quarter pants. He was leaning in with both of his hands at the back. “Have you been?” Adom smiled as he raised his eyebrow as a question.

“Shut up and go shake his hand.” Madison smirked. “I might not want to return. Girl, he is sexy. And that face? The beard? Whew. Look how he’s dressed in just a sweater and jeans. Imagine him in a suit.” Sade huffed. “I see him in a suit all the time.” “Lucky you.” Before Sade could respond, little Trinity toddled over to Adamo, tugging on his pants leg. He looked down with a smile. “Hey, cutie!” he greeted.

“Fuck it is. She doesn’t need it, and now that I think about it, I don’t want you wearing it out again anyway. You sure as hell are not wearing it out to some bar.” I pout, but that only lasted a second as Adrian pulled his shirt over his head with a fluid, one-handed move. I started gawking instead. He looks so amazing without his shirt on. He smirks at me like he knows what I’m thinking. “Let me help you get the rest of this off,” he purrs, ripping the dress the rest of the way down and pushing it off my shoulders. “Much better,” he husks in my ear, using one hand to get my bra off.

“I'm not gonna lie, this is… a lot.” Adam smirked, tugging at his torn shirt. “Oh, we’re just getting started.” He yanked the shirt off, revealing a chiseled chest with a sprinkle of light brown hair and some sand. Thea followed, taking off her top, her full breasts bouncing free as she tossed her bra aside. “Goddamn,” Adam muttered, his hungry eyes flicking between us. He pulled his pants down and stepped out of them. He was already hard, straining against his briefs before.

His face was burning, a deep red that climbed from his neck to his ears. It was a mix of anger, embarrassment, and a confusing spark of desire he didn't want to acknowledge. ​Jamie didn't look guilty. He simply reached over to a nearby chair and lifted a fresh, pressed shirt. He held it up innocently. "I’m helping you change. See? I told you I had one." ​Adam snatched the shirt from his hands, his jaw set tight. "Get out." ​Jamie lingered for a second, his eyes roaming over Adam one last time.

While I was eating, a man came in wearing a jacket, black pants, converse shoes, and a white shirt with a gray jacket over it. I can't help but look at him, he has a side view of me, his jaw line is perfect, his adams apple I can see it has increased because of swallowing it, my throat feels dry, I don't know if it's because of the chocolate cake I'm eating or because of his adams apple, I looked down at his six pack abs, I can see it freely because his jacket is not zippered, and because the white shirt is close to his body and the big bulge at the bottom his pants maybe he has a big pet? It's just in my mind.