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Before Bailey could respond, Henri was gone, moving back behind him and spreading him apart to get an up close and personal look at “what he was going to be getting into.”
Fingers teased and stretched him, and when he reached under himself to wrap a hand around his cock and start stroking, a feral sound hit his ears.
Bailey looked over his shoulder, and the sight that greeted him was straight out of the fantasies he’d been having the past two weeks. Henri was on his knees stroking his covered cock, and his hungry gaze was roaming all over Bailey.
Those black eyes were intense, his coal-colored hair had flopped down into his eyes, and all that silver Bailey loved so damn much glinted in the lamplight.
Henri was hands down the sexiest man Bailey had ever seen in his life, and as he reached out to smooth a palm over the round curve of Bailey’s ass, Henri winked.
As the tip of Henri’s cock rubbed up against his entrance, Bailey wrapped a hand around his dick. It was leaking all over him now, and the mess he was making of both his hand and the bed was nothing compared to what he knew would come, as Henri slowly began to push inside him.
The wide head stretched Bailey open with a delicious burn he hadn’t felt in months, and he gritted his teeth and dragged the duvet halfway up the bed. Henri tunneled forward and filled him one thick inch at a time, and when he finally bottomed out and stilled, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing.
Henri’s hands were on Bailey’s waist, as he leaned down over Bailey’s back to kiss his shoulder. “Just so you know, you were totally worth the risk of jail time.”
“Fuck,” Bailey said on a rush of air, remembering his threat of arresting Henri.
Then Henri slowly withdrew from his body. “Yeah, let’s do that,” he said before he thrust back inside.
Bailey braced himself in the center of his bed, his palms firmly planted, his knees set, as the rough movement behind him began to pick up pace. With one hand on his waist, Henri held him in position, and used his other to spread Bailey open every time he withdrew.
The pace was fast and intense but exactly what Bailey wanted, and as Henri filled him over and over again, any coherent thoughts Bailey had disintegrated into nothing, until all he could do was feel.
They were going at each other like it was the first and last time they could ever be this way. Then Henri smoothed his hands up Bailey’s back to grip his shoulder and tug him up off his hands and to his knees, and Bailey went, wanting an even closer connection.
Henri wound an arm around Bailey’s chest and pulled him back, and the position got Henri as deep as he could get.
Bailey cried out, his head falling back on Henri’s shoulder. Henri licked up his cheek to his ear and said, “That’s it, fucking shout for me,” and Bailey grabbed his own cock and feverishly tugged.
Henri was drilling into him now at a relentless pace, and when he found that sweet spot inside, Bailey couldn’t have held back his shout if he’d tried. Henri’s name echoed throughout the house, and the fingers at Bailey’s waist dug in harder as the pace got even faster.
Henri had unchained him tonight, and as he bit down into Bailey’s shoulder and gave a final punch of his hips, the two of them came with a force Bailey had never experienced before, and he thought it was a crying shame that in the morning he was going to have to lock it all away again.
Chapter Fifteen
CONFESSION
I tried to stay away.
Really, I did.
TRUE TO HIS word, Henri had left sometime in the early hours of the morning after Bailey passed out. He’d left, and stayed gone now, for eight full days. Seven of which he’d been trying to convince himself that contacting Bailey would be a really stupid move, since they’d both decided it was a one-and-done deal and Bailey hadn’t reached out to him.
That didn’t stop Henri, however, from reliving that night over and over again. Something he had a feeling he’d be doing for a long time to come, because fucking hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with someone who pushed his buttons the way his cop did.
From his looks, to his shy and sexy demeanor, Henri had to admit that if it wasn’t for the whole cop factor, there would’ve been no stopping him from tracking Bailey down again and convincing him to spend another night—or three—in his bed.
As it was, he’d have to be content with the memory of that night. It wasn’t like he could erase history, and Henri knew better than anyone else that all it would take was one fuck up, or some snitch from his past to go blabbing about who his father was, for him to wind up in a situation where he would be asked questions he’d rather not answer.
