Himbo (Elite 8 Studios Book 4) by Emmy Sanders

Author:Emmy Sanders [Sanders, Emmy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-11-29T16:00:00+00:00

“Fuuuck,” I groan in dismay, immediately regretting everything. I swipe my phone alarm off and peel myself off the hunk of hot flesh under me before realizing, holy shit, there’s a hunk of hot flesh under me.

My regrets disappear.

“Did you just call me flesh?” Cas mumbles, shifting and rubbing his eyes.

And ohh.

Cas is spread out beside me on the bed, his long upper body on display. The sheets are hanging over his hips, low enough that the base of his dick is visible, and I must make some sort of hungry-ass sound because Cas chuckles.

“Morning,” I manage.

“Morning to you, too,” he says. “Although are we sure it’s morning? Feels like the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I say apologetically. “I know it sucks.”

“’S’fine,” he mumbles around a yawn. “I’ll just get a jumpstart on work today.”

I hum, watching Cas’s hand smooth down his chest and abdomen. Keep going, I urge it. Little further.

It stops on his stomach, and I nearly groan.

Christ, since when am I such a horndog? Since you lost your virginity and found out how amazeballs sex is, you dummy.

Right.

“Do you want me to make some breakfast?” Cas asks, pulling my focus. “I don’t know how to cook anything fancy, but I could probably scramble eggs or something.”

Jesus, this man.

“I don’t think we have eggs, but there’s cereal, oatmeal, fruit…” I mentally comb through the pantry. “Bagels, probably. I need to visit the bathroom, but help yourself. I’ll be there shortly.”

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, absolutely,” I tell him, easing out of bed. I turn around as Cas steps to the floor, and ho, my God.

Back to me, Cas reaches up toward the ceiling, stretching out his muscles. The room is still mostly dark, illuminated only slightly by the lamp on the nightstand that’s programmed to turn on at the same time as my alarm. His muscles bunch, the line of him catching the light in a way that makes him look like a carefully drawn work of art. Like every piece of his body was meticulously sketched out to highlight the masculine form. His ass is round. His waist trim. His thighs and calves weighted with lean muscle. His back arches in a way that has me flashing to last night. And his hands touch for just a moment above his head as he turns his face to the side, gifting me with a view of his crisp jaw, plump lips, dark eyebrows, and mussed hair. And then, as quickly and smoothly as he started stretching, he drops his arms to his sides, and the moment of stillness is shattered.

Cas turns and grabs his briefs off the floor, glancing over at me. “All right?” he asks, a crooked smile on his face.

I swallow audibly. “Toilet,” I mutter before walking from the room, clipping the doorway in the process.

Holy shit. Ho-ly shit.

Cas is hot. Like, really fucking hot. The guy I’m dating—and fucking—is really fucking hot.

I knew this, in theory. I always thought he was pretty. But

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