Henri put aside his iPad and stalked across the floor to snatch the book from Seb’s hand. “It’s not nothing, and you’re going to tell me what’s bothering you.”
“You really want to know?” A flush swept up Seb’s face.
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
“Well, as long as you remember you asked for it.”
“What?”
“You’re beautiful when you read.”
Oh hell. Now Henri would never get the song out of his head. Seb must pay. “Just for that….” Henri cast the book aside and dug his fingers into Sebastian’s ribs.
Sebastian guffawed. “Stop! Stop! I’m ticklish!” He jerked this way and that, but Henri was faster. Seb grabbed Henri’s hands, rolling into a ball on the floor to protect his ticklish belly. Henri followed him down.
“Two can play that game.” Sebastian traded defense for offense, pinning Henri beneath him. He gouged Henri’s sides with his fingers. Henri didn’t flinch. “No fair! You’re not ticklish!”
“Never said I was.”
Their eyes met. All humor fled Sebastian’s face. Hovering above Henri, inches separating their lips, in slow motion Sebastian descended, touching, pulling away, then returning to delve deeper.
Their tongues entwined in a slow waltz. The waltz deepened into a tango. Sebastian braced his hands on either side of Henri’s head. His lips were soft, his kisses filled with the same passion he put into his singing.
He rolled to his side, taking Henri with him and freeing his hands to slide under Henri’s shirt. Fingertips against Henri’s nipples, Sebastian blazed a trail over Henri’s neck with his tongue.
A little fumbling and Henri managed to get Sebastian’s pants open and wriggle his hand inside.
He wrapped his legs around Sebastian’s thigh. Supplies were upstairs and damn if Henri intended to stop long enough to go get them. Good, so good. Slickness formed on his palm from Sebastian’s leaking cock.
Sebastian’s breath came out in little pants. Thrilling tingles started deep inside Henri. Holy hell! He was gonna blow in his pants like some horny teenager. And he didn’t fucking care. He kissed Sebastian with all his might, driving his denim-covered cock against Seb’s thigh.
Seb’s mouth muffled his whimpers and Henri let go, ramming hard one more time and then stilling, his cock pulsing again and again. His hand slipped more easily over Sebastian’s flesh, a moan of completion joining Henri’s throaty groan.
Every muscle in Henri’s body seized and relaxed. His forehead smacked against Sebastian’s, and he laughed. When was the last time he’d let go? Played with a lover? Taken such joy from a hand job… well, a hand job for Sebastian, not even a hand job for Henri. And he’d loved every single minute.
“Why are you laughing?” Seb asked.
Henri planted a kiss on his lover’s nose. “Because I’m happy.”
Sebastian studied him for a minute, his concerned frown melting into something more resembling acceptance. He held Henri close. Henri sucked up affection like a sponge. Who knew when he might find it again?
* * *
“What’s goingon?” Henri stood in the doorway, watching a whirling dervish of an opera singer dusting a bookcase he’d already dusted four times.
In a near panic, Sebastian paused long enough to blurt, “I’ve neglected my housekeeping.”
“Seb, calm down. The place is spotless.” Henri took the duster and laid it aside. Seb’s excuse to put distance between them wouldn’t fool anyone. Tomorrow Henri had to go. “Spend the day with me. Tonight, I’ll help you get the place in order.”
“What do you want to do?” A wrinkle appeared between Seb’s brows.
Henri wanted to kiss the worry line smooth again. “Let’s go riding.”
The most gorgeous of days waited outside, bright blue skies punctuated here and there by puffy clouds. Henri helped Sebastian bundle up, as he insisted on. “If I catch a cold, you have to stay here and nurse me back to health.”
“If you catch a cold, I’ll spoon-feed you chicken noodle soup.” Like Henri’s mother had done, many years ago before fame and wealth tore them apart. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past.
Seb faked a cough. They both laughed.
