Steven Seagal Shirtless Novels & Stories

"Are you ashamed of me being shirtless like this? I'll cover it up if you want." I quickly nodded. Although I was embarrassed to admit it, Sean's suggestion was better than me being unable to do anything when the man looked as beautiful as he did now. I still have to thank him, as per my original intention of coming down here. I felt Sean let go of my hand, and his voice was busy doing something. I quietly peeked out, watching as the man put his shirt back on even though his body was still wet, and quickly printed his chest muscles on the front of the shirt. I closed my eyes again when Sean wrapped his towel around his neck.

"Clean off your body with sand. Call us back once you are dressed." "My shirt?" I asked as I held up the ensanguined shirt. For some reason, I felt the desert camouflage pattern was ruined. "He can go shirtless," Priya suggested quickly. Mona and Rachel nodded. 'Showered in pig's blood'...I didn't recall seeing that on a Cosmo sex quiz. I shuddered to think whose sexual survey would...oh, right, it was on the Satan's Sluts' To-do List.

Even though it was becoming dark when we got to the seashore, there were still a lot of people enjoying a good time there. Some were enjoying themselves in the open bars, while others were keeping themselves entertained in front of the campfire. As I heard Gavin's comments, my train of thinking was immediately halted. I glanced over at him quickly and caught sight of his furious face. The question was voiced in an annoyed tone.,"Are you going to swim with your shirt on?" I did not reply straight away and instead just grimaced in response. Suddenly I realized that he was just wearing a single article of clothes, which consisted only of shorts, and that he did not have a shirt on.

I lay on my stomach, my heart thumping a frantic, terrifying rhythm against the mattress. This was very fun to do. The heavy oak door of the suite clicked open. I gasped, my spine stiffening. Stellan stepped into the room. His suit jacket and tie were gone, and the top three buttons of his crisp white shirt were torn open, revealing the hard planes of his chest. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, exposing the thick veins pulsing beneath his skin. He didn't say a word. He didn't even take the rest of his clothes off.

Noah warned them. One thing led to the other. Now, Selena is in the court, hoodies off, revealing a sleeveless, body con t-shirt which was enough for her to win Zaden and Orion. The little cleavage showing through could send the 2 wolves clambering up an electric pole.

Muscle retracted. Sean stood up. He was entirely naked, his skin smeared with dirt and the hot blood of his enemies. The freezing night air did not affect him. He did not register his own bruised ribs or the cut on his forehead. His dark eyes were cold, calculated, and completely devoid of mercy. He reached down and grabbed the terrified rogue by the throat.

The water rippled around her, covering her thighs, her waist, up to her breasts—but not high enough to hide the peaks of her nipples, already tight and flushed from the heat. Steve’s wolf stirred. A growl built low in his throat—not of anger, but of need. She leaned her head back, wetting her hair, then looked at him with those teasing green eyes. “You coming in or not, Alpha?” He stepped forward, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. Scars lined his chest and abs like medals—testaments to survival. His pants came next. No underwear. He never wore them. Her eyes dropped to him, hungry and deliberate.

Receiving threats, or promises all day isn’t my favorite thing to do. The man I came here to kill looks like a model straight out of a magazine. You know, one of those motorcycle ones with the shirtless guy on the front? The one where the model sits with their legs on both sides of the motorcycle, their legs wide and muscular, their hands tatted and tightly gripping the handle as he stares the camera straight in the eye? Making it look like he’s staring through your soul and leaving you hot and bothered? I hate how my breath hitches at the sight of him. Shane is oozing with sex appeal, he looks like someone picked out his wardrobe for him. He’s chosen a black dress shirt that isn’t buttoned.

Steven knew it. "Take it off! Take it off!" He began chanting, and soon all the men were chanting with him. This time when I went to step behind him, as I unbuttoned my blouse, He spun his chair around and moved it back to align with the center of the U shape that the couches made. Now there was no hiding from him. I revealed one shoulder while keeping my breast hidden and angled my back towards the guys, then I looked over my other shoulder and slowly pulled the fabric of my blouse down over that one too. I freed both arms and used them to cover my breasts, letting the blouse drop to the floor. When I turned around, I could've sworn I saw drool run down Steven's face. Dave and the other guy

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.