“You’re not gonna starve, are you?” After squashing his things in alongside Dom’s, Henry stood. “Can I help with anything?”
Dom had already put the rice on to boil and the chilli to heat through. “You can get us a couple of beers, if you fancy one?”
“Yeah, I’d love one.” He fetched two Desperados out of the fridge, opened them, then looked at Dom expectantly. “Limes?”
“In the fruit bowl.” Dom pointed to the full bowl on the counter and picked a lime from the top. “Here.” He sliced a couple of segments and passed them to Henry, who then popped one in each bottle. “Cheers.” He handed one to Dom and they clinked bottles.
Dom took a long pull, enjoying the sharp taste of the lime alongside the lager. The evening so far had moved along nicely, spending time with Henry almost natural in its easiness. But now they were back at Dom’s villa waiting for dinner to cook, tension crept into the air between them. No, maybe tension wasn’t the right word.
Anticipation.
That was probably a better descriptor.
It surrounded them, almost tangible as they stood, beers in hand, looking at each other. Silence stretched between them for so long that Dom chuckled. “I feel like one of us needs to make a move to get the awkwardness out of the way.”
Henry’s shoulders sagged and he set his beer on the worktop. “Thank god. I thought it was me imagining things. But it got weird, right?”
Dom nodded. “Maybe a little.”
“I was all right at the shop and on the walk here. But now that everything’s done and we’re here... waiting...” He huffed out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to do now.”
“We don’t have to do anything.” Dom didn’t want Henry to feel pressured or anything.
“I know we don’t.” Henry took a step towards him and stopped, leaving a few inches between them. “But I really fucking want to.”
“Me too.” Dom set his beer down and stepped into Henry’s space, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close enough to kiss. As their lips met for the second time that day, Henry’s arms wound around his neck, and Dom moaned.
If someone had told him that he’d spend his first night on holiday kissing a bloke in his villa, he’d have laughed and called them ridiculous. This was so not the place to pick up men. It had been the furthest thing from his mind.
But now that he had the solid weight of Henry pressed against him, the scrape of stubble on his skin as they kissed, he realised it was exactly what he needed. Yes, it still felt a little weird to be kissing someone other than Sam, but they’d been over for a while now, and having Henry in his arms was refreshing in a way he struggled to put into words. He was about as far away from Sam as you could get, and maybe that was why Dom had fallen into this so easily.
He slipped a hand under the back of Henry’s T-shirt, fingers brushing warm skin, and pulled him closer. The nudge of his hardening cock alongside Dom’s sent a lick of heat up his spine. Fuck the chilli, he wanted Henry naked, wanted to see him as well as feel.
Pulling back enough to meet his gaze, Dom smiled. “I reckon I could eat later. What about you?”
Henry licked across his bottom lip, a slow grin forming. “Yeah, I’m not that hungry all of a sudden.”
Reaching behind him, Dom turned off both the rice and the chilli, then took Henry’s hand. As nice as the sofa was in the villa, it wasn’t up to two six-foot blokes messing around on it. Not if they wanted to avoid injury.
“Bedroom?” he asked, because while he was pretty certain they were on the same wavelength, Dom wanted to be sure.
Henry’s eyes darkened as he swept his gaze over Dom, lingering over the growing bulge in his jeans. Dom adjusted himself, taking his time, and Henry swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough enough to make Dom’s heart race. “Lead the way.”
The bedside light cast a warm glow over the room as Dom led Henry through the door. Crisp, white sheets covered the king-sized bed, and Dom sat down on the edge, positioning Henry between his legs.
He ran his hands up the back of Henry’s thighs, the strong lean muscle firm under his fingertips. Looking up, he captured Henry’s gaze and slowly traced the seam of his jeans up over his arse and back down again.
Henry’s sharp inhale, loud in the silence, lit a flame inside him and Dom moved his hands up and round Henry’s waistband, until they rested on the button of his jeans.
He waited a moment, enjoying the quick rise and fall of Henry’s chest as his breaths came quicker. His own heart raced, anticipation gripping him tight, making it almost impossible to keep his hands still. “This okay?” he asked softly. At Henry’s quick nod, Dom popped the button undone and teasingly, slowly unzipped Henry’s jeans.
Dark-grey boxer briefs did little to hide the bulge inside them, and Dom traced his thumb over the head of Henry’s cock, smiling at the wet patch already there. He gripped the shaft when Henry pushed his hips forward and glanced up to find Henry watching him, cheeks flushed, pupils blown, and bottom lip caught between his teeth again. His hair was mussed, like he’d had his hands in it, and Dom didn’t think he’d seen anything hotter in a long, long while.
Leaning in, he pressed his face to Henry’s groin, breathing in the heady scent of sex, his hands still holding Henry through the material of his underwear.
“Fuck,” Henry murmured, hands coming to rest on Dom’s shoulders. “I want you to—”
He broke off so suddenly, Dom sat back and looked up at him. “Want me to what?”
