Page 3 of The Himbo and the Lord

“Seriously? Couldn’t you think of anything more stereotypically British to say to me? And also, maybe try being nicer. You’re sleeping next to me after all, and I bet you’ll fall asleep before me. Don’t want me looking through your fancy bag while you’re unconscious, do you?” I don’t mean it, of course, but I don’t like him calling me a himbo. Normally I wouldn’t care less, but for some reason, I want him to... what? Be impressed by me?

I mentally scoff at myself. I impressed him plenty with my looks. That’s all it takes back home, and it looks like it’s the same in Australia. Or at least the same with British men in Australia.

The bellman clears his throat as the elevator slows, and quickly steps out with the lord’s bags as soon as the gap in the doors can fit him. I snicker at his quickening steps toward my room.

I guess we made him uncomfortable.

OnceRuperttips him, he throws a grateful glance our way and discreetly leaves.

The silence that fills the room after the soft click of the door closing is unnerving, but for some reason, I don’t want to be the first to break it. The lord looks like he gets handed things on the regular, and I won’t be giving him an out that easily.

“Thank you,” he finally chokes out through clenched teeth after a full two minutes of us staring at each other.

“You’re welcome.” I don’t even attempt to tamp down my Cheshire cat grin. “So there’s obviously only one bed.” I wave my hand in the direction of the king-size mattress. “I’ll use the bathroom real quick and then you can have at it.”

He only nods, still so stoic. Damn, I wish this was actually a hookup just so I could watch him lose the serious frown.

I bet he looks real pretty all flushed and begging to come,I think to myself as I get ready for bed.

When I come out, he’s slouching on the edge of the bed, and he looks so damn tired and defeated he doesn’t even look up. He could be sleeping with his eyes open for all I know. I can’t force myself to make fun of him for his posture. “All yours,” I settle on.

His head jerks up and his eyes fixate on my abs—yeah, I have abs, and they look perfect thanks to my exercise regimen. I could have put on some sweats to sleep in, but if I’m being honest, and I always am, I wanted him to get a good look, and to see the interest shine in his pretty eyes again. I also always sleep naked, so keeping my briefs on is only for his benefit.

“Thank you,” he mutters, then closes the door with a decisive click.

I get comfortable on the opposite side of the bed to the one he was sitting on, and when he comes out, I let out a wolf whistle. Rupert is wearing sleep pants, but he’s decided to sleep shirtless. I can’t blame him, but damn, who knew the dude would have abs almost as amazing as mine.

I’m pretty sure I’m leering at him like a perv, but can’t seem to stop myself. I trail my eyes all over his gorgeous torso and I have to bite my lip. “Jesus, you sure you don’t want to suck my dick for your bed?”

“That’s it.” He turns, and the sight of his wide and strong back distracts me from the fact that he’s leaving.

I want to roll my eyes at him, but I guess he’s not used to being ogled by other men. At least not that he’s aware.

“Sorry, sorry,” I call out before he can reach his luggage. “I’ll behave, I swear. But damn, Ru.” He turns around and I can see the impressive scowl is back.

“Only my friends call me Ru.”

“I think we’re friends.”

“No, we are most definitely not friends.”

I sigh and lean up so I can look him in the eye. “You’re fucking hot, man. I just had to comment on it. And now I’m over it.” At his incredulous stare, I chuckle. “Okay, maybe notcompletelyover it. Just, come on, you’re dead on your feet. You need sleep.”

He remains motionless for a few seconds, then his shoulders sag and he walks back.

He’s stiff as a board lying next to me, so I sigh and turn to stand. “I know what’ll make you relax.” I pick up the four extra pillows I threw on the floor before and place them in the middle of the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m building a pillow wall,obviously.” There’s no more humor in my voice. I don’t actually want him to be uncomfortable.

When the wall is firmly in place and I’m on my back again, I turn off the lights, praying my hard-on will go away soon and I can get some sleep too.

“Thank you,” Rupert whispers. It’s the third time he’s said the words to me, and the first time they’ve rung true. I sigh in relief, glad he feels better.

And who knows, maybe tomorrow morning he’ll reconsider and we can both get some goddamn relief.

I like that plan.

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