by Ella Frank
“So,” Henri said. “I’m going to ask you again. Does it bother you?”
It should’ve. Bailey knew that just as he knew that the man he was about to go home with was unlike anyone he’d ever been with before. But before he could think too hard about that, he opened his mouth and sealed his fate. “No, it doesn’t.”
Chapter Twelve
CONFESSION
I know most people think shy guys finish last.
But I plan to make sure Bailey finishes first tonight.
JUST AS HENRI suspected, all eyes were on him and Bailey as they made their way out of the restaurant toward the front doors. No drinks had been ordered, no food decided on—the only hunger that was going to be satisfied tonight was the one that had been growing between them since they’d met.
As Henri walked by the hostess stand, Claire gave him a worried look before her eyes flicked to Bailey, who was barely a step behind, and just as Henri had predicted, a knowing light hit her eyes.
Henri threw a wink in her direction, not ashamed in the slightest as he pushed through the doors, and as he came to a stop by the valet stand, Bailey stepped up beside him. Henri grabbed the ticket from his pocket and handed it over to the man who had originally parked his vehicle.
“Next question for you, officer,” Henri said. “Your place or mine?”
Bailey chuckled and he shook his head, and Henri arched an eyebrow. “You asked me the exact same thing two weeks ago.”
Henri smirked; it seemed his hot cop had been replaying that night too. “At least I’m consistent.”
“Let’s hope that’s not true, or once you get in that car, I’m never going to see you again.”
Henri turned and stepped in front of Bailey so his back was to the road, and when barely a breeze was able to fit between them, he said, “And that would be a bad thing?”
Bailey bit into his bottom lip as if deciding what to say next. “That would be a…frustrating thing.”
“Hmm. How about I make you a promise.”
Bailey looked intrigued but said nothing.
“I won’t leave your sight tonight until you are completely satisfied.”
Bailey swallowed, his eyes dropping to Henri’s mouth, and Henri wondered which part of his body Bailey was imagining it on. He sure as fuck knew which part he wanted it on.
“One night?” Bailey said, that reassurance obviously helping with any last-minute doubts he might’ve been having.
But just in case he needed further incentive that tonight he could do, and be, whoever he wanted and Henri wouldn’t judge him, Henri nodded. “I promise you one night, but you have to stop thinking and enjoy it. And in the morning, I’ll be gone.”
Bailey opened his mouth as if he was about to respond when the Aston Martin pulled up behind them. As the young man climbed out of the classic, Henri said, “So? What’ll it be? Your place or mine?”
He could see the wheels turning behind Bailey’s baby blues. “Have you got your phone? I’ll give you my address. I’m going to have to call an Uber. I didn’t drive here tonight.”
Henri glanced over his shoulder toward the car waiting behind him, and then turned back to Bailey and couldn’t help his devious smile. “What’s the matter with my car? Still think I stole it?”
Bailey scoffed. “I don’t know what you did to get that car. But somehow, I don’t think Priest gave it up willingly.”
The valet handed him his keys, and Henri flipped them around his index finger and shrugged. “In all honesty, I couldn’t tell you if it was willing or not. I wasn’t there when I told him I was taking it.” Bailey’s eyes widened a fraction, and Henri chuckled. “But I didn’t steal it, and that’s what counts. Especially to someone like you, right?”
“But not someone like you? You think it’s okay to go around stealing cars?”
Henri took a step back, gave Bailey a scorching once-over that was designed to arouse, and then winked. “Nah, stealing has never really been my thing.”
Before Bailey could fire back with the what is your thing? question that just entered his eyes, Henri spun on his heels and walked around the hood of the car, flipping the keys as he went.
He pulled open the driver’s-side door and rested his arms on top of the roof, looking to where Bailey was still watching him.
“Moment of truth. Do you stay or do you go?”
Bailey eyed him from the safety of the other side of the car, his expression a mixture of indecision and need. But when he finally took a step forward and reached for the passenger door handle, he looked Henri directly in the eye and said, “One night, no thinking—”
“And then I’ll be gone,” Henri finished for him.
Bailey nodded, pulled open the door, and then said, “Then let’s go.”
AS BAILEY PULLED the car door shut behind him, and Henri slipped into the driver’s seat and did the same, he realized very quickly just how tight the confines of this sporty little classic were.
The red leather seats had been perfectly matched for the era, and the chrome gearstick that sat between them nearly touched both their knees. He was a tall man at six one, but Henri was even taller, and as he buckled up beside Bailey and his hand brushed up against his leg, Bailey was made very aware of just how close they were now sitting.
The air in the car all but crackled with anticipation, as Henri turned the key and the engine purred to life.
Bailey still couldn’t believe that he’d left a restaurant without ordering anything to eat or drink, all so he could get Henri somewhere alone, somewhere private, somewhere where he could finally ease the ache this man had stoked to life two weeks earlier.
But as Bailey gave the first set of directions and Henri pulled out onto the road, he realized that was exactly what he’d done.
“Have to say, I’m a little nervous.” Henri’s comment was so unexpected that Bailey let out a sound of disbelief. “What? You don’t believe me?”
“You don’t exactly strike me as the type who gets nervous in this kind of situation.”
As Henri drew the car to a stop at a red light, he looked at Bailey and grinned. “And what kind of situation might that be?”
Bailey rubbed his palms over his thighs as he looked into Henri’s teasing eyes and thought, Stop thinking. You said you’d stop thinking, so turn your brain off and just be whoever you want. “This. A hookup.” Okay, be someone cooler than that.
“You have a point. But I’m not nervous about fucking you. I was referring to the fact that I was driving home with an officer of the law. One who pulled me over just recently for speeding.”
The wicked glint in Henri’s eyes told Bailey he’d just been caught with his mind in the gutter, but he wasn’t about to feel ashamed. He’d been given free rein for the night, a chance to unwind and forget what he did for a living, and he was quick to remind his passenger of the deal they’d struck.
“I was told not to think tonight, at least not like me, not like a cop. So I think you’re safe; just try not to break any obvious laws.”
The soft, raspy chuckle that rumbled out of Henri felt like a nice, long stroke over Bailey’s cock.
“I think I can handle that for one night. All the things I have planned for you are legal in most states, as far as I know.”
The sinful promise in both Henri’s words and eyes had Bailey clearing his throat, and when he was in real danger of doing something insane, like leaning across the vehicle and kissing that teasing mouth, he looked out the windshield at the lights up ahead and said, “It’s green.”
Without a word, Henri went back to driving and Bailey went back to directing, and around fifteen minutes later, Henri arrived at the far end of a cul-de-sac and pulled into the driveway of Bailey’s house.
As he drew the car to a stop in front of the double-car garage, Bailey looked out the windshield at the front door to his house. He’d left the porch light on tonight but nothing else, and as Henri switched off the engine and pulled the keys out, they were plunged i
nto silence and darkness, and Bailey wondered if Henri could hear the thumping of his heart.
This is it, Bailey thought as he unbuckled his seatbelt and felt Henri do the same. If you don’t want to do this, now is the time to back out.
But when Henri opened the car door and the interior light flooded over him, Bailey knew nothing short of a natural disaster was going to make him walk away tonight.
Henri Boudreaux was fantasy material. Everything about him screamed sex, and when he licked his lower lip as though he couldn’t wait to have a taste, Bailey was out of the car and at his front door before he could change his mind.
Reaching for the keys in his pocket, Bailey willed his hands to stop shaking. But when Henri stepped up behind him, close enough that Bailey could feel his warm breath on the back of his neck, he knew he didn’t have a hope in hell of controlling his nerves.
“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve lain in bed thinking about you since that first night.”
Shit. Bailey shut his eyes as Henri’s words washed over him and tried to remind himself that he needed to unlock the door to get them inside. Something Henri was clearly thinking too.
“And unless you want to be arrested for public indecency, you need to open your front door, officer.”
Bailey knew Henri was right, but the delicious feel of that hard body was making all of the blood in his head take a quick detour south.
“Bailey?”
Bailey pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
He’d barely made it two steps in before his wrist was caught between strong fingers and he was spun around. An arrogant smirk was plastered on Henri’s tempting lips, and as he slowly drew Bailey toward him, he pushed off the door, closing the distance between them.
“If I don’t kiss you in the next two seconds, I think I might just fucking die.” The tortured tone of Henri’s voice matched Bailey’s frustration, and when Henri reached for the back of his neck, Bailey was right there to meet him.
As their lips crashed down on one another, Bailey speared his fingers into Henri’s thick hair for something to hang on to, and Henri’s fingers at the back of his neck flexed and tightened, drawing him even closer.
Henri’s tongue slid along Bailey’s lower lip, teasing, tasting, testing the waters, and when Bailey opened up to him, a growl of pleasure rumbled out of Henri, and he dove inside for a much deeper taste.
As their tongues tangled, Bailey groaned, the reality of Henri proving to be so much more arousing than the thought of him, and as the desire to get closer clawed at him, Bailey moved forward, wanting more.
As Henri’s back hit the front door, a deep chuckle left his throat. And when Bailey realized what he’d done, that he’d all but shoved Henri up against the door, he went to take a step back. But before he could move, Henri’s hands were on his ass, drawing him forward, until their hips bumped up against one another, and Bailey moaned.
“Stop thinking,” Henri whispered.
“I’m—”
“Thinking,” Henri said, and rocked his hips forward, so his hard cock came in direct contact with Bailey’s. “This is how that first night was meant to go. If you want to shove me against a door, then do it. There’s not one thing you could do right now that I wouldn’t want, so stop thinking.”
Bailey twisted his fingers in Henri’s hair as he jammed his hips forward, grinding against Henri’s body the way he’d been dying to.
“That’s it. Soft, hard, fast, or slow.” Henri kissed his way up to Bailey’s ear. “You show me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. But unless you want me to fuck you right here on the floor, the first thing you need to do is tell me where your bedroom is, Bailey.”
Chapter Thirteen
CONFESSION
I knew he’d look good under those clothes, but my hot cop just set the room on fucking fire.
HENRI MADE SURE to keep his eyes locked with the blue ones now undressing him, as Bailey held his hand out and waited for him to take it.
Henri pushed off the door and walked forward a step, and when he slipped his fingers into Bailey’s and his cop grinned at him, Henri was close to saying to hell with the bedroom and dragging Bailey to the floor.
That grin? It was something else. It was shy, flirty, and so damn hot that when Bailey turned away to lead him through the house, Henri almost fell to his knees.
It seemed that the promise of one night had finally given his cop the permission he needed to let go, and Henri couldn’t wait to see where that took them.
So far, it had led him down a hall and walking into what he assumed was Bailey’s bedroom, and when Bailey let go of his hand, Henri stayed where he was as a bedside lamp was flicked on.
When his eyes adjusted and focused on Bailey, now standing by the bed, Henri had never been more thankful in his life to have been pulled over by a cop—especially this cop.
“Nice room,” Henri said as they continued their stare-off, and Bailey’s lips twitched.
“Did you even look at the room?”
“I’m lookin’ at you, and you’re in it. That makes it the nicest fucking room I’ve been in for years.”
Bailey swallowed and rubbed a hand over the back of his head, a gesture that showed some of the nerves Henri knew he was fighting.
He’d meant what he said earlier. He didn’t want Bailey to think tonight. Henri wanted him to let go and enjoy what they were about to do here. But to do that, Henri needed to get Bailey’s mind focused on something other than the fact that he was inviting a virtual stranger into his bed.
As he walked across the room, Henri slowly began to unbutton his shirt. He got about midway up, but when he reached his cop, he abandoned the rest of the task for Bailey’s pristine white shirt, which was still neatly tucked into his dress pants.
“I gotta say, it’s almost a shame to take these clothes off you when you fill them out so damn good. But I need to know what’s under them.” Henri tugged the shirt tails out of Bailey’s pants and took another step closer, then he leaned forward and ghosted his lips up Bailey’s jaw line. “I want to run my tongue all over you.”
“Shit…”
Bailey’s hands came up to take hold of Henri’s biceps, as Henri’s fingers worked overtime to undo that white shirt. Once he had it open, he fisted his hands on either side of the material and walked Bailey backward until his calves hit the mattress. Then Henri gave an immoral smile, a slight shove, and Bailey’s ass hit the bed.
Bailey braced his hands behind himself to keep upright, and the move spread open his shirt, displaying all the ridges and valleys of his chest, abs, and stomach, and he was so goddamn sexy that Henri couldn’t stop himself from palming his painful erection.
“Jesus, you’re fucking built.”
Bailey said nothing, but his heated gaze dropped to the hand Henri was massaging over his dick, and he spread his legs in invitation.
Henri stepped forward between them and took in the tight fit of Bailey’s pants where they stretched across his lap, and the hard bulge that was outlined by that grey material.
Henri dropped to his knees and smoothed his hands over the thick muscles of Bailey’s thighs, squeezing, testing, getting closer to what he was dying to touch. But just as he was about to reach for his prize, Bailey placed a hand on Henri’s chest.
Henri halted and turned his attention back to Bailey’s gorgeous face, and when his cop bit down into his lip and said, “Take off your shirt first,” Henri complied.
BAILEY COULD BARELY breathe as he sat there on his bed with his legs spread wide, his cock aching, and his heart beating a mile a minute. But when Henri had gone down to his knees—the intention to drive him crazy clear—Bailey knew if he didn’t ask for this now, he would regret it later.
Ever since he’d sat down in the booth at the restaurant, Bailey had wondered whether Xander’s suspicions about more piercings on Henri were true.
The silver ring in Henri’s nose and the ones adorning his
fingers were fast becoming a hot button for Bailey, and when Henri finally shrugged out of his shirt, what he revealed beneath that red material pushed that button really fucking hard.
Xander had been right. There was definitely more silver beneath Henri’s clothes.
Bailey pushed up from his hands and shifted closer to the edge of the bed, and before he could stop himself, he reached out and fingered the small silver bar running through Henri’s nipple. He had one through each, and Bailey sucked in a shaky breath of air.
Damn. It was both crazy and exhilarating to finally have Henri so close that Bailey could actually touch him. He couldn’t begin to guess how many hours of sleep he’d lost over this man, wondering what it would be like to have him in his bed, in his arms, in his body for a night, and when Henri moved up to his knees to get closer, Bailey made a promise to himself that he would do whatever the hell he wanted tonight, and not regret a single thing come morning.
He stroked his thumbs over the short silver bars piercing each nipple, and when a rumble vibrated out of Henri’s throat, Bailey said, “I like these.”
Henri looked down to the erection Bailey had no hope of hiding and chuckled. “I can tell.”
“Do you, um…” Bailey lost his train of thought as he twisted one of Henri’s nipples, making him curse, and Bailey liked that he could make him react that way. “Do you have any more of these?”
“I’m almost disappointed to say no.”
Bailey grinned, because Henri’s tone said he wasn’t lying, and before he could talk himself out of doing what he really wanted to do next, Bailey bent his head and flicked the tip of his tongue over one of the bars.
A low groan left Henri, and when two strong hands came up to smooth over the back of Bailey’s head and guide him closer, he did it again.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Henri’s voice was guttural as Bailey continued to tease and torment the pierced nub, and as he sucked harder, and then brought his teeth in on the action, Henri’s fingers dug into the back of his head.