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To Henri,
Never have I met a person more deserving of love.
Let me be the one to show you that.
Let me be the one to love you.
~ Bailey
Chapter One
CONFESSION
I always thought the best way to get a jump start on the day was coffee.
I was wrong.
THE SOFT BEAT of a classic rock song filtered through Craig Bailey’s bedroom hours later, where the curtains were still drawn, casting shadows around the room.
As he opened his eyes and stretched beneath the duvet, the sheets slid over his naked body and a delicious lethargy overtook his limbs. The sleepy haze of dreams lifted next, and one by one all of the reasons his body felt so unbelievably satisfied came crashing back in. Reasons that began and ended with Henri Boudreaux.
A lazy smile curved Bailey’s lips as he rolled to his side and reached across the bed for the man responsible for his good mood. But when his hand came up empty, he froze in place, his heart skidding to a stop when all he felt was a cool, empty sheet beside him.
No, Bailey thought as his smile fell and his stomach twisted. Please don’t have vanished. But as reality began to intrude on his perfect little fantasy, a sense of dread began to knot in his gut, because the truth of the matter was that of course his bed was empty. Vanishing was Henri’s forte.
As disappointment flooded him, Bailey told himself not to read too much into it. It wasn’t as though they’d made plans for later in the day, nor had they discussed whether Henri would stay. As far as he knew, Henri might’ve had to go to work—and speaking of work, Bailey still had no idea what it was Henri did for a living.
In fact, he knew next to nothing about him. But as Bailey lay there in his empty bed, his muscles languid and relaxed in the best way, he decided he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Hell, for once in his life, he was going to embrace and enjoy the moment of spontaneity that had had him speeding home earlier that morning to jump into bed with a man who’d consumed his thoughts ever since they’d met.
He wasn’t going to overanalyze, wasn’t going to freak out. Instead, he was going to get off his ass and actually do something about this attraction he was feeling. He wasn’t going to sit idly by and mope around waiting for Henri to call him. After his shower, he’d be the one to call. He’d be the one to see what Henri was up to and invite him out, because while Henri might not be the kind of man to stick around after a hot-as-hell roll between the sheets, he was most definitely into what they had going on here. Of that, Bailey was certain, and he didn’t plan to let some last-minute shyness or misunderstanding get in his way.
Tossing back the covers, Bailey swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and padded through to the en suite. Fumbling for the light switch, he winced when it flicked on and the room lit up brighter than the morning sun. But when his eyes adjusted and roved around the room, Bailey’s cock stiffened with renewed arousal as it remembered in great detail the expert way Henri had stroked him to orgasm in that very room. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so free with another person, so…himself, and when his eyes cut to the empty shower stall and he recalled his hungry response to Henri, Bailey knew nothing was going to stop him from reaching out and tracking that man down today.
Last night and this morning had been a wake-up call for him. For far too long, Bailey had convinced himself that he hadn’t been missing out on much in the way of dating and physical intimacy, that he was content with his everyday, normal routine. All that other stuff? It just seemed like another chore he had to go through, something that was expected of him as a single guy in his thirties who must be looking for companionship or love. But when the results had been less than exciting the last few go-arounds, he’d all but given up.
This was different, though. Henri was different. Everything about him was exhilarating, impulsive, and so unexpected that Bailey found himself willing to put himself out there just to see where this connection would take him next—and so far, he was yet to be disappointed.
About to head to the shower and turn on the hot water, Bailey was brought up short by a loud whirring sound that echoed up the hall of his house and cut into the silence.
Jerking his head to the left, he snatched a towel off the rack and wound it around his hips. Then he quickly headed to the bathroom door and scanned his bedroom again.
