Page 4 of The Himbo and the Lord

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I wakeup to a blinding light. Guess I didn’t close the blinds last night, ugh. I remember going to the club and... oh yeah, Rupert.

The stoic and very tiredlord.

I turn, ready to bring out all my seduction skills to try and start this day better than the last. Mutual hand jobs in the shower is a good option, but I think I’m in the mood for BJs more.

I scrub at my eyes and... he’s not there. His bags are gone too. I flop back on the mattress. Damn, what a missed opportunity.

With no way to reach him, I think it’s safe to say I’ll never see him again.

CHAPTERTHREE

Ru

I blink into the light,disorientated by where I am.

When I stretch and my arm hits something soft, I lift my head to peer down at the wall of pillows and the prone form beyond them. I let my head fall back on my pillow and groan as every detail of the previous night hits me all at once.

I flick my eyes to the other side of the bed, holding my breath, wondering if my groan woke him. He doesn’t move and I sigh, silently relieved. I don’t think I can face his snark right now.

Lifting myself up on my elbows, I sneak another look. He sure is a great sight, laid on his side, one knee drawn up, and his arms flung out. From this angle, I can appreciate his back and his arse, very shapely in just his briefs.

Under other circumstances, if we had actually been together, I would wake him up by mouthing kisses across his back and down his delicious-looking backside. He definitely wouldn’t be wearing briefs then. I bite down on my lip and force myself to look away as staring at him is making me very aroused. It’s a pity he’s such a snarky bastard as he is very handsome.

I head to the shower. I need to get to work anyway; I have things I need to do today. Meeting the team to set up the branch of my father’s company does not involve lusting after the gorgeous himbo I just happened to wake up beside.

As I shower, my hand takes care of the effect seeing Nate’s arse had on my cock. Having him in the shower with me would be even better, but I really need to leave soon. My relief is short-lived, because when I walk back into the bedroom, fully dressed and ready to leave, he’s rolled over onto his back. His arms are flung wide and I get an uninterrupted view of his chest, down his abs and his legs.

He’s lean, like a swimmer, and I like that very much. I quickly turn, grab my cases, and leave. I certainly don’t want him to wake and catch me ogling him. That would set off another round of his snark, especially if he caught sight of the bugle in my tight suit trousers. It’s uncomfortable, and the best way to get it to go away is for me to leave.

Usually, I would have left my luggage in the room and arranged for a porter to collect it, but I didn’t want Nate disturbed, so I take it with me in the elevator, leave it at reception, and direct them where to send it—to the correct hotel for tonight—and I call a taxi to the new offices.

I’m suitably distracted for the next few hours as I meet the team and introduce the company to them. The most important person I need to deal with is Cieran, the new Chief Operating Officer. I’m the Chief Executive Officer, but as I’ll be back in England, Cieran will be looking after the day-to-day running of the company.

I’d spoken to him on Zoom a few times, as my father had interviewed him, but this was the first time I’ve met him in person. He’s experienced in financial matters, and if he has a problem with his CEO being ten years his junior, he doesn’t show it.

Which I’m glad of. I’m well aware that I have this position because it’s my father’s company, but I’ve worked hard to earn the respect of my father’s associates, which means I studied hard at university and gained a good degree. I stayed away from most of the usual uni distractions—I say most because I am, after all, only human.

It was an incident in my final year that had me coming out to my father as bi.

I’m not bi, I’m gay, but I thought that might have been a step too far, and I was right.

I’d never seen my father really angry before, but he was apoplectic.

After I endured a lecture that felt like it lasted hours, and narrowly missed being disinherited, he declared we’d never speak of it again, and I was required to be accompanied by a suitable young lady of our social circle at every function and gathering. So in his very British way, my father pretended that nothing had happened and expected that with enough exposure to single young women I would magically become straight and marry one of them, then produce an heir and carry on the Cardew line.

I’m leaving the heirs to my sister; she’s far more interested in that sort of thing than me. Her engagement to Howard Grant should be enough. He’s from an old enough family to please my father.

The other thing that pleases me about Cieran is that he doesn’t show any deference to my title. I’m fed up with people falling over their own feet to ingratiate themselves to me. It’s a refreshing change here in Australia to not have that.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, the title does help in England, and I know I’m privileged, but I constantly feel like I’m playing a part, and even with my family I can’t be myself. The only time I have felt natural is with my close friends and the few guys I’ve been with.

Which has my mind circling back to last night and Nate. If I’d met him at any other time, I’d definitely have been interested. It was really bad timing and I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. I almost regret leaving this morning without waking him. Though he acted like a real himbo, at times his behaviour surprised me.

He did offer me his room with no strings attached. And he did make a wall of pillows, keeping his hands to himself.

I can’t quite fathom him, and I’d love the chance to learn more about him.

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