* * *
“Oh God,oh God!” Henri gripped Sebastian’s shoulders for leverage and rose up on his knees, only to come down and rise up again. The bedsprings squealed. Sweat dripped down Henri’s face. He couldn’t stop. Each downward thrust brought him closer and closer to where he wanted to be.
“I’m going to come!” Sebastian warned, gripping Henri’s hips.
“I’ll meet you there.” Henri stroked his cock, settling down on Sebastian’s thick shaft. Quivering began deep inside, growing, growing, waves crashing down.
His “Ahhh….” met and matched Sebastian’s “Ohhhh….” Henri collapsed onto his lover’s chest. What a safe place to rest. A breeze from the open window whispered over his sweat-slicked skin while he caught his breath. If only he could stay here forever.
“Henri?” broke through his post-sex haze.
He summoned up enough energy to answer, “Yes?”
Sebastian’s tenor was a gentle purr in his ear. “Not that I’m suggesting anything, but were you planning to leave today?”
Leave? Oh, yeah. Right. Going back to a home that wasn’t really home. “Yes. But not right now. I’m too comfy.” Henri wriggled to get more comfortable, dragging his hair out of the way.
“How far will you make it this time?” Seb ran his hands up Henri’s sides, tracing the ink patterns over his skin.
Good question. “How far did I make it yesterday?”
“Ten miles.”
Hmmm… he’d made it eight the day before. “Then today I’ll try for twelve.” At this rate Henri would be back in LA in about five or six years.
“Since you’re coming back anyway, can I ride with you? I need to pick up a few things at the store.”
Sounded like a plan.
* * *
“Henri? July’snearly half over. You need to come back. I keep postponing auditions. I can’t put people off forever. Sooner or later Sebastian’s gotta get back to work too.” Lucas didn’t sound happy.
Unease twisted Henri’s insides. “How much is he charging for these few extra weeks?” And would payment put a decided kink in the relationship or whatever they’d developed?
“He wouldn’t take a dime.”
The tension in Henri’s chest loosened. Seb hadn’t charged for the additional time; maybe he’d enjoyed each minute as much as Henri. But the man needed the money. “Pay him anyway.”
“Whatever you say. You’re the boss. Now, when’re you coming back?”
From his perch on the music room settee Henri watched Sebastian’s turbo-charged dusting, which meant one thing: Henri couldn’t put off leaving any longer, and Sebastian understood. Obligations waited for them both. “I’m leaving today, will stop for the night, and be back Wednesday.”
Like a coward he waited until Sebastian drove into town for class, and then he left a single, perfect gladiola on the bedside table.
On the seat of his bike he found a rose.
