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There were no scattered clothes, no evidence of another person in sight. The room was, as it always was when he woke, empty. But as he stepped out into the hall, he spotted a leather jacket slung over the back of his couch as a muffled curse came from the kitchen.
Bailey’s lips curved despite his raised blood pressure and hammering heart—Henri was still there.
Clutching the towel at his hip, Bailey headed down the hall through his living room, and as he came to a stop in the doorway, his eyes landed on a tight white t-shirt that stretched across broad shoulders, and well-worn jeans that cupped an ass he suddenly wanted to grab.
Bailey tried to find his tongue to announce himself, to get Henri to turn around so he could once again look at his striking face. But before he could find his voice, those shoulders straightened as though Henri felt him standing there, and then Henri looked over.
Good God. If Bailey had thought the memory of Henri did crazy things to him, the full-on impact of the man standing at his coffee machine in the flesh was like a one-two punch that just about rendered him useless.
With dark, disheveled hair, unbuttoned jeans, and a look in his eyes that guaranteed the erect cock behind Bailey’s towel was going nowhere soon, Henri was better than any cup of coffee Bailey could’ve made to get his day jump-started.
“Well, hey there,” Henri said as he turned and leaned back against the counter, his eyes taking a slow tour of all the naked skin Bailey was now highly aware was on display.
“Hey,” Bailey managed under that perusal, as Henri pushed off the counter and made his way across the kitchen.
“I was trying to be quiet and not wake you, but”—Henri gestured with a thumb at the counter behind him—“you have a really fucking complicated coffee machine, Bailey.”
Bailey grinned as Henri continued in his direction, a smirk now crossing that wicked mouth, reminding Bailey of all the reasons he’d given in to this bad boy in the first place.
“You could’ve gone out and gotten coffee…”
“I could’ve,” Henri said as he finally came to a stop opposite him. “But then I would’ve missed out on seeing you dressed like this. Or not dressed like this. Damn, Bailey, you look fuckin’ good first thing outta bed.”
Bailey swallowed as Henri took his chin between his fingers.
“I wasn’t sure you were still here.” Bailey licked his lips. “You know, when I woke.”
Henri ran the pad of his thumb over Bailey’s lower lip, his dark eyes roving over Bailey’s face as though searching for some kind of hidden meaning. “Did you want me to go?”
Bailey’s stomach twisted at the thought, that dread from earlier again making an appearance as he shook his head. “No.”
“Good.” Henri lowered his head and brushed his lips over the path his thumb was taking. “’Cause I’m finding it more difficult to leave than stay these days. That’s your fault. You know that, right?”
Bailey’s heart thumped so hard that it was a miracle it didn’t start to echo in the kitchen like a backbeat to Henri’s words.
Then Henri kissed his way up to his ear and added, “I was trying to let you rest for a bit. You worked a long shift, and I figured you needed the sleep.”
The genuine concern for Bailey’s well-being, coupled with the sensual spell Henri was weaving, had all of those crazy emotions swirling inside Bailey’s brain again, as he turned his head to look into the face that made his blood run hot, even as it made him long for things he didn’t yet understand.
“Thank you. I appreciate your concern,” Bailey said, and then wanted to slap himself in the back of the head.
Here he was standing half-naked in his kitchen with the sexiest man he’d ever met, thanking him for letting him sleep. Jesus, how lame am I?
But then Henri chuckled, and the deep rumble made all thoughts other than lust disappear in an instant.
“You’re lying.”
Bailey’s mouth fell open, but then Henri grinned like the devil himself.
“You don’t appreciate it at all. You wanted me to wake you up, roll you over, and make you come all over again. That’s okay. You can admit it. There’s no need to be shy, remember? Not with me.”
AS BAILEY’S EYES darkened, Henri thanked whatever good fortune had brought this man into his life and wound his other arm around Bailey’s waist to hold him in place.
He hadn’t been sure what kind of reception he’d get when Bailey woke up and found him still there this afternoon. It could’ve gone one of two ways, but as he smoothed a hand over the towel covering Bailey’s ass, Henri had to admit that this way was most definitely the preferred response.
This was exactly what he’d needed after banishing that hellish nightmare he’d had earlier back to the dark depths of where it had come from. This physical connection, this chemistry between them, to remind him exactly why he thought he still had a right to be there.
