Stephen Angel stretches across the couch, his muscular arms flexing as he leans back to reveal the red underwear clinging to his hips, then strips it off in one smooth motion, leaving nothing but his dark hair and clean-shaven jaw against the couch’s worn leather. His stomach ripples as he rolls onto his stomach, fingers digging into the fabric, then flips onto his back, arms reaching behind his head in a pose that makes every vein stand out. The windows in the background blur as he shifts, the couch the only thing holding him up.
