“I don’t snore, but I’m a blanket thief, probably because I’m cold natured. I do like coffee, especially if it’s mean.”
“I make the meanest,” Hunter said. He moved off the bench and stood, looking down at Payne for a long moment. “You do look like a choirboy, you know. A badass choirboy.”
Between the Army and practicing BDSM, Payne had no body modesty left, and nudity — his own or someone else’s — didn’t faze him. But he had his first unobstructed view of Hunter’s big, buff body, and he didn’t bother hiding his admiration as he looked Hunter over from head to foot.
“I know,” he drawled. “I like it, actually. It’s fun when people underestimate me.”
Hunter snorted and shook his head. “It wasn’t much fun forme,” he said, then stepped closer. He ran his index finger down Payne’s cheek; it was the first time Hunter had voluntarily touched him since the day they’d met. “But maybe it was what I needed.”
A wide smile curved Payne’s lips. “Good, I’m glad.”
Hunter simply looked at Payne, then he gave a crooked smile and stepped back. “I’d better get dressed and get home,” he said, picking up his neat pile of clothing.
“Okay.” Payne watched as Hunter got dressed. He was tempted to invite Hunter to stay for dinner, but he wasn’t sure if they were at that point yet. Besides, Hunter still seemed to need a lot of space, and Payne didn’t want to push himself on Hunter. Well, not too much. “If you think of any questions or concerns between now and Friday night, you can call or text me. Otherwise, I’ll see you then.”
“All right.” Hunter headed toward the door, then stopped with his hand on the knob. “Other than clothing, is there anything else I should bring?”
Payne followed Hunter, intending to see him out like the gentleman his mama had raised him to be. “Any toiletries you want or need. I will paddle your ass until you can’t sit for a week, but I will not share my toothbrush with you because even I have boundaries,” he said, winking. “Other than that, I can’t think of anything unless you sleep with a teddy bear.”
Hunter wrinkled his nose. “Trust me, I have no desire to share anyone’s toothbrush,” he said.
After he showed Hunter out, Payne returned to his playroom to clean the toys and the bench, mulling over ideas for their scene. He had an idea he thought might work to help Hunter confront his anger and guilt and — hopefully — put him on the road to peace and healing. If his plan didn’t give Hunter any help or release, he’d have to tell Herc he’d failed, and he didn’t know what would happen then.
Being someone’s last hope wasn’t an easy or comfortable place to be in, but Payne had to try, even if he was the most unlikely white knight of all time.
