by Ella Frank
Bailey reached for his orange juice, took a sip, and then placed it back on the table. “Not if you won’t answer my question.”
Sean glared at him, and Bailey knew he was grinding his back teeth together.
“A yes or no is all I need here, Sean. It’s that simple.” But they both knew better, especially if that answer was yes.
Saved by Dawn for the second time, Sean slumped back in the booth as she placed their breakfast down in front of them. But it wasn’t until after she’d walked off and Bailey had added ketchup to his meal that Sean finally spoke up.
“I had a couple glasses of scotch before I came over to meet you this morning, okay? Nothing crazy, no all-night bender. I was just going over the first case file again early this morning and grabbed what was handy.”
Bailey schooled his features as what Sean was telling him sank in. As he searched his brother’s face for any sign that he understood how messed up it was to reach for a bottle of scotch first thing in the morning, all he saw was defiance.
“What?” Sean said when Bailey remained silent, and then Bailey picked up his utensils and piled some eggs onto his fork.
“You know that’s not normal, right?”
“Okay, Mom. It’s not like I do it every morning.”
“No, just the ones where you’re overworked, tired, stressed— Oh, wait, that is every morning.” Bailey shook his head. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“I’m not doing anything to my fucking self. I’m trying to solve a goddamn murder. Three murders, actually—which, by the way, would be a lot easier to do if you weren’t fucking my CI and distracting him. I was trying to get in contact with him all day yesterday.”
Bailey wasn’t nearly done with the drinking topic, but he was well aware that his brother had moved on and there’d be no going back now. The way he saw it, he could do one of two things. He could spend the rest of the breakfast dodging questions about Henri, and arguing in circles with Sean about a problem he would rather die than admit to having, or he could nip this particular topic in the bud once and for all.
Bailey shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth and was happy to note Sean was doing the same.
“Up until yesterday I didn’t even know you two knew each other. So it’s hardly my fault he’s avoiding you. Maybe if you were nicer to him—”
“Nicer?” Sean scoffed. “It’s not like we’re dating. I treat him the same way I treat anyone I pick up for breaking the law. We just happened to work out an arrangement to keep his transgression off his record.”
Bailey took another sip of his juice and then nodded. “Yeah, solicitation. He told me. So you actually caught him asking and paying for sex?”
Sean’s eyebrow arched. “Oh, lemme guess. When you two had a little heart-to-heart yesterday he swore black and blue that he wasn’t paying a hooker when I found him down in the warehouse district.”
“No,” Bailey said. “He told me you caught him paying a hooker…just not for sex.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “And you believe him? Really, Bay?”
“As someone who’s slept with him on more than one occasion, yes, I do.” The satisfaction he got from Sean’s slack jaw had him adding, “That man would never have to pay for sex, and I think you know that.”
“I know what I saw that day. Boudreaux paid a hooker—”
“For information,” Bailey said. “Which you saw and took advantage of. Admit it. It’s not like I don’t know what goes on to get these guys on board. You saw an opportunity and you took it. But we both know Henri was not paying for sex that day, and since I don’t plan to stop seeing him anytime soon, you need to stop being a dick to him.”
Sean almost choked on his coffee. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Bailey said. “I like him—a lot. And for the past year, you, Kieran, and Xander have been on me to start dating, and, well, now I am.”
“A crook.”
“He’s not a crook,” Bailey said, and shook his head.
“His past actions say differently.”
Bailey regarded Sean closely. “So we should judge people based on their past actions alone? What about redemption? Changing? Don’t you believe in rehabilitation?”
If Sean understood Bailey’s not-so-subtle implication that one could judge him on his early morning drinking, he showed no indication.
“Oh, come on, Bay. Of course I do, but some people are just born on the wrong side of the tracks. They grow up a certain way, and they learn to survive by choosing all the wrong paths. Boudreaux is one of the smoothest, stealthiest motherfuckers I’ve ever met. He’s charming, likable, and cunning, which makes him unpredictable. You never know which way he’s gonna turn, good or bad.”
“I disagree,” Bailey said. “I have never felt that from him. The charming, likable part, yes. But I trust him. He was upfront about everything when it came to you and him. Maybe he acts a certain way with you because that’s how you treat him. Ever think of that?”
Sean let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fucking hell.”
Bailey said nothing to that, and after about five minutes of silence, Sean said, “You really like him, don’t you?”
Bailey finished off his hash browns and put his knife and fork down. “I do.”
“And nothing I say is going to stop you from seeing him?”
Bailey shook his head. “Nope.”
Sean finished off his breakfast and then sat back in his seat. “Then I guess I better make sure the fucker stays alive, huh?”
Bailey’s stomach clenched. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Henri might be doing something dangerous for Sean, and when his brother seemed to realize the worry he’d just unintentionally caused, he added, “I’m just kidding. If anyone can look after himself, it’s Boudreaux.”
Bailey got that impression too, but found himself caught up in a whole new world of worry as Dawn appeared and placed the check on the table.
“Your case?” Bailey said as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “I’ll take a look at the files, see if there’s anything you might’ve missed at the scenes if you like. But Sean?”
“Yeah?”
“Quit the drinking or I’m out.”
Sean rolled his eyes but nodded. As Bailey paid the check, he couldn’t help the niggling voice in the back of his head about what exactly Henri was doing for Sean, and just how dangerous it was.
Chapter Six
CONFESSION
Henri Boudreaux just might be
the best way to wake up—ever.
THE VIBRATION OF his phone on the bedside table woke Bailey around five hours later, and as he opened his eyes and reached for his cell, a smile curved his lips at the three notifications waiting for him from Ghost.
Thinking he should probably update Henri’s contact info, Bailey rolled to his back and punched in his PIN. But when he opened up his messages and read the three texts waiting for him, all thoughts other than calling Henri right back left his mind quick-smart.
Henri: Nineteen hours between seeing you is too fucking long.
Bailey grinned as he stretched beneath the covers.
I don’t like it.
Neither did he.
Call me when you wake up. I want to imagine you in that bed of yours.
Bailey didn’t stop, or question, the way his cock reacted to the order. It was like he’d been specifically hard-wired for Henri, and everything he did flipped a new switch in Bailey and showed him a new side of himself. One that was just now being revealed to him, like the fact he got off on being told what to do, apparently.
Bailey reached down, wrapped a palm around his stiffening length, then hit call on his phone and waited for an answer.
“Afternoon, officer.”
Bailey tightened his hand around his erection. “Afternoon.”
Sleep and arousal made Bailey’s voice deeper than usual, and Henri let out a low hum. “I’ve been staring at my phone all day waiting for this call. I think that of
ficially makes me pathetic.”
Bailey chuckled. “I disagree,” he said, as he spread his legs a little to give himself more room to play. “I think it makes you hot.”
“I must be on fucking fire, then, because I’ve been absolutely worthless all day.”
And wasn’t that a stroke to Bailey’s ego, to know that someone like Henri was sitting at home distracted by the likes of him.
Bailey’s dick twitched in his palm, and he barely managed to stifle a groan. Well, he thought he did until Henri said in his ear, “You still in bed?”
“That was the order, wasn’t it?”
There was a pause for a moment, and Bailey wondered if maybe he’d read too much into that text. Maybe Henri had meant it more of a suggestion.
But then Henri spoke up and relieved Bailey of his worry.
“It was.”
Bailey’s heart thumped in time to his pulsing dick.
“Do you like taking orders, Bailey?”
He had no idea. He’d never been given one before—not in bed, anyway. But judging by the hard cock between his legs, it was a good bet.
“Bailey?”
Bailey bit down on his lip and shut his eyes. God, was he really going to admit this out loud? Oh, who am I kidding? I totally am.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “How about you give me one the next time you see me and we’ll find out?”
The growl that came through the phone was a mixture of pleasure and frustration. Bailey’s hips rose from the bed in response.
“I’m gonna take you up on that,” Henri promised in a wickedly hot voice that made Bailey’s entire body tremble. “But since I’m not seeing you until tomorrow…how about you talk to me about something else? Or I’m going to lose my damn mind.”
Bailey couldn’t stop the flood of disappointment that washed over him. He still had to get through one more shift before he got to see Henri. As he reluctantly let go of himself, Bailey reached for the pillow Henri had used just the other day and brought it up under his nose.
Breathing in the lingering scent, Bailey shut his eyes and imagined Henri lying there beside him, and then a soft chuckle rumbled in his ear. “You gonna start talking to me, officer? Or keep making those hot sighs in the phone that have my dick so hard I could drill through a concrete wall?”
Shit. Bailey hadn’t even realized he was making any kind of sound, but it felt good to be able to get such a strong reaction from Henri. It made him feel…sexy.
“I can talk.”
“Well, after that, I’m not sure I’ll be able to respond.”
Bailey chuckled. “Okay, let’s start with something easy, then. How was your day?”
“Long. You went to work, you came home and slept, and I stared at a clock waiting for you to call me.”
Bailey bit down on the inside of his cheek to hold back his laughter, more than a little pleased to know that Henri had spent the better part of the day and night thinking about him.
“You put a spell on me or something, Bailey?”
If only it were that easy. He’d have to add in, never leave and fall hopelessly in lo—
Wait up. Slow your roll there, Bay. One step at a time. Date first, get to know each other second, then maybe fall… “Would that be so bad?”
He wasn’t sure why, but Bailey held his breath as he waited for Henri’s answer.
“I don’t think there’s one bad thing about you, Craig Bailey.”
That caught Bailey off guard, and he swallowed back the emotions now blocking his throat. When he finally got a handle on himself and could form a sentence again, he shifted to sit up in the bed and said, “Does that bother you?”
“Does what bother me?”
“That I’m”—Bailey thought of Xander’s nickname for him—“Saint Bailey.” Sean was forever referring to Bailey as the mother hen, the worrier, the…golden boy of the family. “That I’m kind of, I don’t know, boring and strait-laced, compared to you.”
Bailey wasn’t sure what kind of response he expected, but when Henri said, “Didn’t seem too straight to me when I was on your kitchen floor yesterday,” Bailey couldn’t help his laugh.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“No?”
“No. I just meant that I’ve had the same job forever, lived in the same place my whole life. I don’t go out a lot, or date, for that matter, and I kind of like to keep to myself.”
When Bailey realized just how unexciting that made him sound, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. Way to ruin a sexy wake-up call there, Bay.
“Okay. I’m going to shut up now, because I just realized you might’ve actually thought I was more interesting than this until I started to talk.”
“Bailey?”
“Yeah?”
“Nothing about you bothers me.” Henri paused. “Not even the fact that I’m not bothered anymore, no matter how…difficult that turns out to be.”
Well, shit, that didn’t sound all that positive. But before Bailey could tell Henri he had nothing to worry about, Henri started to talk again.
“I mean, really, let’s put this in perspective. You’re stressing because you think I find you boring, and I’m over here wondering how your meeting went with your brother who picked me up for paying a hooker.”
The comment was so left-field and, well, true that Bailey couldn’t help himself. A bark of laughter escaped him, and Henri snorted. There was that charm again, that ease Henri had of taking something that felt heavy and difficult and making light of it.
It was a gift. One that Bailey imagined had gotten him out of a lot of…sticky situations.
“Trust me, there’s nothing wrong with being the good guy in this scenario, officer. It’s what I like best about you.”
Bailey took Henri at his word and decided to let it go. He was just having a momentary lapse of confidence and needed to stop it. If Henri wasn’t interested, he’d already be gone—of that, Bailey was one hundred percent certain.
“About Sean…”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t need to worry about him anymore. He knows where I stand on him butting in where he’s not wanted, and he’s agreed to back off.”
Henri scoffed. “That simple, huh?”
Bailey didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know about simple, but it’s what he agreed to.”
“Right. And did anything you find out this morning bother you?”
Bailey thought about all he and Sean had talked about. “Only that you’re going to be dealing with some pretty bad people with whatever it is you’re doing for him.”
Henri let out a deep breath as though he’d been expecting Bailey to say something like that. “That’s part of the job. It’s why he wanted me. I fit in with the bad guys. I’m good at it. Don’t forget that.”
Bailey didn’t believe that for a second. Not the kind of thugs Sean had Henri going after. Drug dealers, pimps—that was so not Henri. “That’s not what I meant. I’m worried about your safety. Sean will push to get what he wants. Just remember, you have the right to tell him to—”
“Fuck off?”
Bailey chuckled. “Yes. And if you do that? Can you record it for me?”
Henri let out a low rumble. “I’ll be careful. I promise. Plus, once I give my report to Detective Dick, I have a date with a hot cop who I’m hoping puts me on house arrest for a couple of days. You really think I’m gonna do anything that makes me miss that meeting?”
And just like that, Bailey’s body was back on high alert. “I sure hope not.”
“Tomorrow, Bailey. At noon. You better be on my fucking doorstep.”
Bailey reached down between his legs and rubbed the heel of his hand over his newly awakened arousal. “Is that an order?”
“Let’s put it this way.” Henri lowered his voice to a raspy cadence. “If you’re not there, I’m gonna come find you. That’s another thing I’m really good at.”
So, apparently, was making Bailey completely and utterl
y obsessed with him. Because when Bailey was walking into the precinct later that night, he was still thinking about Henri’s order and the threat that had followed should he disobey, and he was having one hell of a time trying to decide which of those two he wanted to experience more.
Chapter Seven
CONFESSION
Not much makes me nervous—
except parking my car near these twitchy motherfuckers.
HENRI STARED OUT the windshield of the Aston Martin as he made a turn off the main road and headed toward Scooter’s neck of the woods. He was on the lookout tonight for Ricky G, whom he’d been told he could find a couple blocks over from Scooter’s local hangout. As Henri began to make his way up and down the desolate streets, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and slowed the car to a crawl.
Henri eyed the Glock on the seat beside him. When his attention caught on one of the side alleys and he saw a couple of the locals conducting business behind a dumpster, he reached for the firearm and shifted to tuck it down the back of his jeans under his jacket.
He was really hoping this little joyride through the old shipping yards today would be quick, painless, and provide him with some information he could report back to Dick. He figured showing up to a rendezvous with Bailey’s older brother after finding out they were sleeping together might go over better if he could distract the detective. Hey, look what I got you. Told you I’m not a fucking loser. As opposed to: I didn’t find out shit. You were right all along. I’m worthless.
Not that Dick’s opinion mattered all that much. The only thing that really concerned Henri was the fact that Sean was Bailey’s older brother, and whether or not Bailey wanted to admit it, a family’s opinion always ended up mattering some way or another in the end.
There was nothing he could do about that now, though, Henri thought, as he returned his attention to the road he’d just made a right on. It was an alley between two abandoned warehouses, a narrow street where several fires were lit in old barrels and shopping carts full of bottles and cans lined the crumbling walls—one man’s trash becoming another’s treasure.