Twenty-Six
Henri staredout the window, watching fluffy snowflakes fall. The scent of woodsmoke no longer gave him the screaming shivers, and he warmed himself by the fire Sebastian had started in the fireplace. White covered the trees and mountains. Spring would arrive soon. Until then, Henri intended to enjoy a winter wonderland in the Colorado Rockies.
Arms wrapped around him from behind. Safe. Loved, even if Sebastian wasn’t comfortable enough to say “I love you.” He would, one day, once he considered himself an equal again. Baby steps. Dr. Worthington called them baby steps. Holding Henri, kissing him, acknowledging his love with all but words. Good enough for now.
Henri wanted the words, but didn’t truly need them. The tuna fish sandwich and cup of tea resting on a tray near the piano spoke volumes. God, he loved this music room. Seb’s office.
“I still won’t accept this house from you,” Sebastian murmured against Henri’s hair. His goose egg was gone now, the only remaining traces of his ordeal a few greenish-yellow bruises and a broken arm.
“I’m not giving it to you. You have to earn it.” Compromise: let Sebastian earn his own freedom. Right now Dr. Worthington relayed the words through Henri. Hopefully the doctor imparted the same words of wisdom to Sebastian personally.
“And how do you propose I do that? This house is worth about two hundred years’ worth of tuna sandwiches.”
“By starring inPhantom of the Bronx.”
Even Sebastian’s snorts were melodic. “A starring role won’t equal the price of this property. I insist on earning my own way in life.”
How many years had Henri waited to hear someone utter those words, and not latch onto him simply for his wealth? “Oh, you’ll earn it, all right. Remember how hard you worked with me last summer?”
“Yes.”
“Before production begins, I need you to work with the band—and my kid sister. I’m warning you, she can’t hold a tune in a bucket.”
“And how about you?”
“Me?”
“It’s been a while. Need a refresher?”
Henri grinned. “I might. How about a few open-throated exercises?” He spun in Sebastian’s arms and knelt. If they were going to spend much time in this house, he’d need throw rugs to cushion his knees. Lots and lots of throw rugs. And pillows. Hell, maybe they needed to move the old settee and install a fold-out couch.
He unzipped Seb’s pants and fished his already half-hard cock out of the opening. The purpled head beckoned Henri’s tongue. A swipe across the slit made Sebastian moan. Ah, what sweet music. Henri dove lower to suck his balls, while stroking Sebastian’s shaft with his hand. Seb’s legs trembled.
Bracing the shoulder of his bad arm against Seb’s thigh, Henri bobbed up and down in earnest on Seb’s spit-slicked erection, wrapping the other arm around Seb’s legs for support. Sebastian hissed, pumping his hips in time with Henri’s sucking.
Henri ran his tongue around the head, softly nipping with his lips. What a beautiful cock—thick, veins bulging. Tasty. He wrapped his lips around the head, swirling his tongue over the tip.
Hands under his armpits urged him to his feet. Sebastian wound his arms around Henri and joined them mouth to mouth. He led them in a slow tango, tongues keeping rhythm while he danced them closer and closer to the settee. Piece by piece Seb removed Henri’s clothing, starting with his T-shirt.
He kissed a path down Henri’s ink-stained torso and sat down to open Henri’s jeans and slide them down his legs to pool around his ankles. Lifting first one leg and then the other, he removed Henri’s socks and shoes. Outside the wind howled and snow formed drifts against the trees, but here Henri found warmth, love, and a peace of mind he’d never known before.
Stark naked, he strolled across the floor and closed the blinds. Not that Henri expected spies, but one couldn’t be too careful, and though Arnulfo was loyal to a fault—and footsteps overhead spoke of his whereabouts—Henri had scandalized the man enough for one lifetime by answering his hotel room door in his birthday suit a few times.
He returned to settee, where Sebastian lay stretched out and naked. “I think I should warn you, even after you earn this house back from me, I have no intention of leaving. That is, unless you want me to. Ultimately, the decision is yours. It’s your house.”
“It’s too big for one person. But it works fine for two. Particularly with the extra room for the band members I’m supposed to train.”
Henri climbed onto the settee, straddling Sebastian, catching his erection between their bellies. Sebastian’s cock nudged his entrance. Sure hands skimmed up his sides, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss. This wasn’t comfortable.
Grabbing Seb’s throw from the settee, Henri stepped back and arranged the frothy fabric on the floor as best he could one-handed. Sebastian finished the job and sank to his knees. “C’mere.” He held out his hand to Henri. Henri lay down, allowing Sebastian to position him facing the fire.
Sebastian spooned against him from behind. “I’d always hoped one day to make love in front of this fire.”
An image came to mind of Sebastian and Charles in this spot. Henri pushed the thought aside. Whatever Seb had done with the man, it wasn’t making love. And thanks to a restraining order, Charles would never darken their door again. Henri rested against the comfort of Seb’s body, angling back to press against Seb’s stiff cock.
A laugh rumbled against Henri’s back. “Is that a hint?”
“No, it’s a demand. We rock gods can be demanding. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
