Novel & Cerita Lucas Black Shirtless

It isn't my business, so why should I care? "Lucian?" I yelled out, my voice low, as I scanned the room. The light switched on automatically as soon as Lucian clapped twice. He sat there majestically, no longer wearing the outfit he had previously worn. He is now wearing a black t-shirt that fits every inch of his upper body, revealing all of his strong features. Then there were black sweatpants, which appeared to be very casual. I rarely saw him wearing this style of clothing.

The Lycan Tattoo in his backhand started glowing into a deep shade of red as he was using his abilities. Lucas was draped into a satin V-cut T-shirt that had bishop sleeves. The V-cut was lingering too low revealing his muscular, strong chest. His white T-shirt was paired with a pair of black harem pants. Lucas was no doubt looking drop dead sexy even when he was angry all thanks to the corset that he had around his waist that tightly held his broad body and protected his abs! Owen gasped with his open mouth as he tried to break the noose which would just loosen up. He kept on slapping the waters as he struggled to remain on the top rather than submerging into the chilly waters of the lake.

I said softly as I close my eyes. "Hi," I heard a voice I was not interested in hearing. My eyes quickly open and I sat up from the chair onto the porch, surprisingly. And there I saw Lucas standing before me. He was attired in a black shirt, black sweat-pants with a little white tick design, and a white sneaker. He was so handsome in black. Black suits him very well. I hated how I was admiring him. I turn my back instantly and too said my hello as I started to return to the house.

“What do you want, Lucas?” He shifted his gaze to his friend, who crossed one leg over the other. Lucas’s expression changed from playful to serious. “Have you not seen the video going around?” He asked, looking at Adrian, who frowned in confusion. “What video? Get to the point.” Lucas stood up and walked toward him, stopping right in front of him. He held his phone up to Mr. Adrian Cole’s eyes. There was a boy dressed in black, wearing a white mask marked with gold and black lines. Adrian frowned in confusion and took the phone from Lucas.

“Like. Like as in... I tolerate you. As a teammate.” “Right.” I nodded my head slowly understanding what he meant, he couldn't mean something else. He leaned toward me slightly. “You’re blushing again." “No, I’m not.” “Your ears are pink.” “Keep talking and I’ll deck you mid-air.” He laughed under his breath, leaning back again, satisfied. Across the aisle, I saw Katrina. She wasn’t looking at me, she was sitting next to Lucien. He had his usual all-black outfit on. Black shirt, black jeans, black earrings. His hair was slicked back, and his jaw was sharp enough to cut through steel.

His knee dug into my back, his hands wrenching mine behind me, pinning me so hard I couldn’t breathe, let alone beg. Footsteps approached, heavy and deliberate, and I twisted my head to see Lucian emerge, shirtless, his jet-black hair wild, his tattoos on his arms bulging with each step he took, his gray eyes blazing with a fury that chilled me. His knuckles were still bandaged from the earlier fight, blood seeping through, his chest scarred and heaving. “If any of you touch him, you’re dead,” he snarled, his voice sounded like a command, his authority silencing the men who shrank back, their weapons lowering.

"Dark skies, dewy sands, that's the Gerly Mountain. How did it crumble?" He walked towards the riverbank, his hands moving into the waters. He sent me a glare, and I lowered my gaze to his hand; it was blazing, more like deteriorating. His sinister aura cloaked the air around us, choking me as I gasped for air. "You let out Vala, the ancient one. So you know what that means?" His eyes began to glow, the cloak falling off his body. Damn, he is hot. I mean, his broad chest definitely spelled 5-star gym coach, those well-sculpted abs dripping with sweat, those masculine arms tense and firm like he was going to grab me at any moment. He would make a good stripper, I must say.

Fresh fruit and something citrus filled the air, blending together with the clean scent of soap and expensive shampoo. Luca stood behind the kitchen island. Shirtless. Completely shirtless. My brain completely stopped functioning. His dark hair was still damp from the shower, tiny droplets of water glistening against the broad lines of his shoulders before disappearing down the defined muscles of his chest. Black lounge pants hung low on his hips, and somehow the sight of Luca Moretti dressed casually felt infinitely more dangerous than any tailored suit he owned. Because suits belonged to the billionaire. This man looked entirely too human.

“You look like hell warmed over.” I didn’t look up from my glass. “Good evening to you too, Lucas.” He slid smoothly into the booth across from me, not waiting for an invitation. He caught the eye of the bartender and made a quick, circular motion with his finger. Two fresh glasses of amber liquid appeared on the bar almost instantly. His tailored black shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the silver links of an expensive watch. Lucas kept himself in fighting shape, but it was the kind of physique built in a gym to keep the internal chaos locked down tight.

But at least they could show their support by accusing Lucas of being a shameless bastard. Being bothered by these thoughts, I felt suffocated. I rolled down the window to get some ventilation, only to see a black Porsche passing by. The tinted window slid down silently and I saw Lucas sitting in the driver's seat. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses. His hair was arranged in a neat slick back fashion. How could a man look so fresh, so clean, so minty after a whole night of debauchery?! It wasn't fair for him to look at that and be him.