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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 into 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.
