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Chapter Twenty-eight
Rayne
Rayne had a firm hold on Mike’s hand as he led him through the house and up the stairs. He touched his tender bottom lip with his other hand, still feeling the passion and fire from their kiss. Had he ever been kissed like that before? He was certain he hadn’t. Everything Rayne had done intimately or sexually in the past was calculated, planned, and not about pleasure. When he had sex, there’d been no emotion in it, only a determination to obtain whatever it was he wanted. Money, clothes, shoes, vacations, jewelry—nothing was off-limits. Just his heart.
It took a long time, but Rayne had learned through counseling and endless SAA meetings that he could love; he was capable of it, but only after he learned to love himself. Now he was ready—he was sure of it. With his hand secured in Mike’s calloused palm, he knew he’d follow him wherever he led. That’s what he wanted now and for the future. He wanted Mike, mind, soul, heart, and body.
“To the right is my bathroom, and my room is the door at the end.” Mike pointed, then pulled him in the opposite direction. “To the left is another room, but there’s only a treadmill and weights and shit in there. This room is yours.”
Mine. Rayne was wonderfully surprised as he glanced around the spacious room that was at least five times bigger than the one at Trent and Wood’s place. Mike flipped on a switch, and the overhead lights illuminated the rest of the room as the distressed-wood ceiling fan started to spin.
“Wow.” Rayne gaped. “This is really nice.”
“You like it?” Mike asked, sounding concerned. “You can decorate however you want or change the furniture around.”
“No, really. It’s-it’s perfect… thank you.” Rayne didn’t know what he could say to express how grateful he was.
“Good. Go ahead and have a look around. I’ll bring up your bags.”
Rayne appreciated the breather because he was more than overwhelmed. There was so much he was feeling all at once for the first time in his life, and it was making his skin feel tight. He eased down on the king-sized, low platform bed that looked almost new with its blue-and-gray plaid comforter and matching pillows. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart, but he wasn’t having much success as his pulse sped up even more. Will it always feel like this with Mike?
Rayne glanced around the room, already feeling more comfortable there than he’d ever been at Wood’s. There was a gray microsuede loveseat and recliner in the sitting area in front of a black glass entertainment stand. Too bad Rayne had little use for the large flat-screen sitting on top of it, but the sound system looked nice. There were only two medium-sized chests of drawers on the opposite wall, and Rayne wondered if that’d even be enough space to hold all of his underwear. But he didn’t care—maybe it was time he unloaded a few pieces anyway. Summer was approaching; Rayne would hit up some yard sales and try to find a couple of armoires and maybe some art or floating shelves for the walls. If he added a couple of faux ficuses in the corners, it’d be similar to the brownstone he’d grown up in.
There were four doors in the room, and Rayne was curious as to what was behind them. Did he have his own bathroom too? He got up and went to the door that was closest and opened it to what must be a storage closet or something. There were about six or seven rows of white shelves lining the tall wall. Why do they build big homes these days but put offensive, tiny closets in them?
He’d never know, but Rayne was resourceful, and his mind was operating on overdrive. He could probably fold his jeans and sweaters and stack them in there. Not a terrible idea. He went to the set of double doors and opened them at the same time. Rayne was glad Mike was out of the room because the yelp of glee that escaped his mouth over a walk-in closet would’ve been embarrassing.
He could already tell the space was massive before he located the light switch on the opposite wall and flipped it on. Hallelujah. This was bigger than the closet he’d had at his condo. Way bigger. And more than enough space for all of his things. My gosh. Rayne was speechless, but more than anything, he was excited. He wanted to start putting his things away immediately, but he didn’t want to appear too eager.
He closed the closet doors and went to the last one. It opened to a bathroom with pristine white walls and the strong scent of lemon, pine, and Clorox. Yes! No more worrying about using the shower after two guys who had just finished having sex in it. How did I get this lucky? The jetted tub in the corner was screaming his name, especially after the tense night he’d had. He was going to ask Mike if he was opposed to him taking a long soak right now.
Rayne got a glimpse of himself in the tall mirrors and winced at his messy appearance. He hurried to finger-comb his hair, then turned on one of the chrome fixtures and splashed some cool water on his face. He went to the built-in shelving unit and used a fluffy blue hand towel to dry his face.
“Hey,” Mike called out, “I think I got all the ones that you had at Trent’s place. I’m gonna put them in the closet.”
Rayne turned the light off in the bathroom just as Mike was coming out of his closet. His closet. Rayne wanted to put his arms around Mike again and kiss him senseless, but he didn’t want to be clingy—and that wasn’t how he showed his gratitude anymore. “Mike. The room is amazing. Thank you.”
“Well, you can thank Manny for the furniture and stuff because this room was empty not that long ago. He bought all of this stuff when he stayed with me a few months last year after his wife put his ass out.”
“Oh man. He’s divorced?”
“She took him back after a while, but he left the stuff because he wasn’t sure if he’d need it again.” Mike smirked. “But too late now because it’s yours.”
Rayne tried to hide his blush as he went to his duffle bag and hefted it onto the bed. “I can only imagine what the master bedroom looks like.”
“This is the master,” Mike said.
“What?” Rayne blinked.
“Yeah. I like the bedroom that faces the front of the house. It’s big enough for me, and I like it because it has a fireplace. Since I don’t need a closet that big, and I damn sure was never going to use that bathtub, I made this the guest room.”
“That tub is calling like a beacon of hope for my sore back.” Rayne pulled out his toiletry bag as Mike leaned casually against the wall, watching him.
“Well, it’s yours now, so use it as much as you want.” Mike headed toward the door, and Rayne wanted to grab him and ask for another kiss, hug, or something but decided not to beg… yet. He had time. “I’ll let you get settled. Just holler if you need me, but make yourself at home. I’m gonna go across the hall and burn off some steam.”
Rayne was about to ask Mike how he planned to do that, and then he remembered the weights and exercise equipment in the other room. Was Mike still that worked up over his uncle? Damn. He was glad he’d intervened when he did.
“Were you really gonna make him screw his dog?” Rayne asked before Mike left.
He turned around slowly like the killer in an assassin movie, those dark eyes singeing Rayne where he stood. Mike’s voice was an octave lower than terrifying when he answered, “That’s exactly what I was gonna make him do.”
Jesus.
“You saved his life,” Mike gritted out before he walked out the door and closed it behind him.
Rayne was so turned on by Mike’s protectiveness he had to sit down and breathe.
