Loving Bailey (5 page)

He spit into the sink and pulled back the
shower curtain. The thin plastic tension rod that held the liner in
place wobbled, and he mentally added another project to the list of
things that needed to be done to make the cottage a home.

The internal arguments continued throughout
his shower, and he still hadn't made up his mind what to do when he
exited the shower. He took two aspirin and swallowed the pills with
a cup of water. He wasn't in any condition at the moment to make
love. Hell, he was lucky to be able to walk. But neither did he
have the strength of will to fend off Bailey's advances. Saying no
had gotten harder as graduation day approached. The time to say yes
just might have arrived.

The option was taken out of his hands when
he stepped barefoot, wrapped in a plush eco-friendly bamboo and
cotton towel, into his bedroom from the bathroom. The room was
blessedly dark; Bailey had pulled the shades down to block out the
sun. His eyes adjusted slowly and he couldn't help smiling at the
sight that came clear.

A soft, vulnerable looking Bailey lay on the
bed in his jeans. He'd stripped off his T-shirt and kicked off his
sandals. His eyes were closed, dark lashes shadowy crescents on his
cheeks. His parted lips tempted Ashton to kiss him, but his gentle
snores reminded him just how tired they both were.

Sighing contentedly, Ashton picked up the
plain blue T-shirt and folded the garment neatly before putting it
on the room's only chair, a brocade covered Queen Anne reproduction
armchair bought at a flea market months before. He kicked the
sandals under the chair and draped his own towel over the bedpost
before donning a pair of boxers and climbing into the bed. Bailey
shifted automatically toward him in his sleep, without a
murmur.

Ashton turned on his side and brushed a
strand of hair off Bailey's forehead. The answer to his dilemma
came to him just as sleep forced his eyelids down.

Chapter Six

Warm limbs pinned him to the bed. Hot, heavy
breath raked across his sensitive ear. A stiff cock prodded his
side. Icy trepidation trickled down his spine. Bailey's eyes flew
open and he jerked. He glanced frantically around the room. What
had he done the night before? Where was he? Who slept so soundly
his body was like a dead weight pinning Bailey to the bed?

It took him a moment of dazed bewilderment
to remember the answers to those questions, longer to calm his
racing heart. He hadn't awakened in a bed that wasn't his own for
nearly eighteen months and he'd struggled with regaining his
self-respect for most of that time. The period of wildness, of too
much drinking and too much sex with strangers culminated with his
emotional meltdown in the school library.

That phase of his life had ended with coffee
with a man who'd smiled and held out a hand and offered an ear to
listen. It had ended with Ashton Duval, the tall, lanky, not quite
handsome professor who slept next to him now.

Since the déjà vu of shame had jolted Bailey
completely awake, he lifted Ashton's arm and rolled to his back, so
he could see his boyfriend, his soon to be lover.

Dark shadows lurked below his closed lids,
tired lines fanned out around the corners of his eyes. Thin lips
were pressed together, he was grinding his teeth in his sleep.
Stress no doubt over the ungraded papers. The hand that wasn't
resting on Bailey's chest was curled under his stubbled cheek.
Ashton slept with the intensity that he did everything else, and
with just as much grace. He'd been so patient, tried so hard to
control his impulses and his sexual urges since they'd been
together. No matter how much he teased or how their kissing and
petting aroused them both, Ashton always pushed him away, insisted
on waiting for graduation. Having the man at his mercy like
this…

Unable to resist the allure, Bailey swept
the thin sheet down and revealed Ashton's body. He smiled when he
saw the cotton boxer shorts. The fine white fabric appeared demure
and innocent, until you actually read the fine print on the hip.
May contain nuts.
He chuckled under his breath. After all,
it was too much to hope for that the man slept nude, he
supposed.

At first he was content to just look and let
his gaze roam from the mussed gray-streaked hair to the familiar
facial features, and on down to unexplored territory. Soon enough
temptation led him to touch. He checked Ashton's face, reassured
when he saw no change in expression. Gently he ran his hand up one
furred arm to curl around a bony shoulder. Ashton shifted, murmured
in his sleep as he fell onto his back.

Bailey froze, checking again to see if he'd
awakened his sleeping boyfriend. When Ashton continued to breathe
deeply, eyelids flickering with tiny movements, he grew bolder.
Trailing one finger up the sinewy neck, he brushed away hair from
one ear. This was all familiar and dear territory. He followed the
known trail down to a thin collarbone, to the hollow of Ashton's
throat where a pulse throbbed steadily under his touch. Bailey's
lips parted, his breath came a little faster.

Next he tentatively explored the narrow
chest, matted with dark hair. He'd run his hands through that
before, tested the strength of these muscles. His fingers rubbed
through the matt, found the large, copper nipples, teased them to
stiff points.

His mouth watered and his heart sped up a
little. Did he dare lick and suck the little nubs? Could he do it
without waking Ashton?

He couldn't resist casting occasional
glances at Ashton's face, not sure if he wanted the man to wake up
or stay asleep so he could keep touching. If he woke up, he might
put a stop to all of Bailey's fun.
Or he might not
an
insidious voice insisted. This time, he might give in. This time he
might go with the moment. Bailey shifted on the bed, spreading his
legs to give his thickening cock room.

As Ashton continued to sleep, Bailey grew
bolder, his hands swept lower, brushed over the taut stomach,
dipped into the navel. He licked his lips and gave in to the urge
to taste the flesh his hands had explored.

Bailey ducked his head and trailed his lips
over Ashton's collarbone first. His boyfriend's skin tasted of soap
and heat and a faint trace of sweet. He licked his way down,
kissing everywhere his hands had touched until the tip of his
tongue darted into Ashton's navel. Ashton bucked under him, strong
hands gripped his shoulders, and then coiled in his hair. His head
was tugged up, and he met burning blue eyes.

"That's not where I want your mouth," Ashton
growled.

Bailey shuddered. That growl was sexy as
hell. "Where?"

"Take off my boxers. Hell, take off your
jeans." Ashton released Bailey and lifted himself up on his elbows
to facilitate the removal of his garment.

Bailey tossed the thin cotton boxers aside
then edged backward off the bed until his feet hit the floor. He
couldn't tear his gaze away from Ashton's compelling expression.
This was really going to happen. They were finally going to do
it.

Now that the moment had progressed from a
sneak survey to action, trepidation warred with want in his breast.
"Ashton…" His hands fumbled with the buttons of his jeans.

"Go on. Take them off." Ashton stretched,
long lean body rippling with finely honed muscles. "You're
hesitating."

"Are you sure?" Guilt over his period of
promiscuity riddled Bailey. "I mean…I'm used."

"Bullshit."

He rushed on, wanting to get all the bad
news out. "I slept with a lot of guys, Ashton. Most of them, I
can't even remember their faces, let alone their names. I hate that
you aren't the first."

"Bailey"—Ashton sat upright on the bed and
held out a hand—"come back here."

Shucking his jeans but deciding to keep on
the bikini briefs he wore, Bailey climbed onto the bed. Shame made
him feel small, and he crossed his arms defensively on his chest.
"I've been good since we met, Ashton. I promise, there's been no
one since that day in the library."

Ashton blinked, confusion evident. "Okay,
that's good." He spoke tentatively as though feeling his way. "Just
to be clear here, I haven't been with anyone either."

Bailey dismissed that with a slash of his
hand. "I know that. This isn't about you, it's about me and my
ability to be faithful." He jerked his head up and glared at
Ashton. "Isn't it? Isn't that what we've been waiting for? Proof
that I'm not a whore?"

"What?" Bailey sensed the outrage in every
tensed muscle; Ashton fairly quivered with it. "Bailey, no. It's
not about that. Waiting to have sex has nothing to do with how many
people you've slept with."

A tiny bit of hope, spurred by the
earnestness of Ashton's expression, bloomed. "Then…"

"You don't think that I'm a whore do you?"
Ashton interrupted him.

"No, of course not!"

"Because I'm thirty-six, and I can guarantee
you that in the last twenty years since I discovered I was gay, I
have slept with more men, and forgotten them too, than you could
even imagine you slept with during that few months."

He wrestled with that thought for a few
seconds. "I felt so ashamed of what I'd been doing."

"I know that. I could tell that when we met
the first time, your pain wasn't so much over Eden as over how
you'd disappointed yourself. I have never been ashamed of you." The
sincerity was unmistakable, Ashton's expression gentle and
understanding. "Most guys behave exactly as you did, Bailey, and
for more than a few months."

"I…" He dragged in a deep breath, uncrossed
his arms. "I'm sorry. I ruined the moment. Can we start over
again?"

"Come here. Let's not call it starting
again. Let's just call that foreplay and this the main event."
Ashton opened his arms and Bailey crept into them, heart thundering
with relief.

"So, why wait, then?" He couldn't just leave
the issue alone.

Ashton sighed, chest rising beneath Bailey's
head. "It felt awkward. Like I would be taking advantage of you.
We've been over this, I know. But at one point when I was young, I
let an older man talk me into a relationship I knew was wrong.
Then, he used his position as my boss to keep the relationship
going longer than I wanted. Breaking away from Dennis took a lot of
effort. I didn't want to put you in that same position."

Chapter Seven

Ashton closed his arms around the younger
man. His heart ached vaguely with sympathy, and his initial touches
were meant to soothe and comfort more than arouse. But as tension
and turmoil receded, the passion that always existed between them
flared back into life. His semi-hard cock stiffened to full
arousal, and he couldn't resist grinding a little against Bailey.
If he were sensitive, he'd put passion on the back burner and focus
on their emotional connection, but it seemed that once the idea of
some form of sexual play with Bailey was broached, his psyche
wasn't letting it go that easily. Instead, he worked the black
cotton bikini briefs down his lover's thighs, unable to resist
brushing a butterfly kiss over the ridges of muscled stomach.

Bailey responded with a deeply indrawn
breath and a shiver. He kicked the briefs away, and Ashton found
himself rolled on his back, staring up into ardent blue eyes.
"Hey," he drawled. "Feeling more into this?" He let his thighs fall
apart, creating space between them for Bailey to get closer.

"I'm feeling like I want to get into
something…" Bailey drawled back, mockery lightening his tone, a
smile lifting his lips. He wiggled a little and his cock slapped
against Ashton's thigh, leaving a little damp spot. If a faint
redness rimmed his eyes, and some suspicious moisture appeared to
have gathered in the corners, then Ashton would chalk it up to eye
irritating dust, or better yet, pretend, as Bailey so obviously
intended to do, that he didn't see it. "I'd like to get into
you."

A little startled, Ashton felt his own smile
falter. His heart picked up speed, his groin thickened. His hole
clenched in protest, or longing. "What?"

Abashed, Bailey backpedaled. His smile
faded, became hesitant. "I mean…If you don't mind?"

"We talked about this. Not until after
graduation." In actuality, it had never occurred to him that Bailey
would want to top. He'd somehow always pictured sex between them
the other way around. Now that he'd considered the idea though, his
gaze dropped to Bailey's groin, to the long, thick curved cock that
rose from a nest of cropped brown curls. It wasn't like he'd never
bottomed, or even found being penetrated distasteful. It just
wasn't the sort of position he wanted to be in with someone he
didn't care deeply about. Which brought him back to Bailey, who he
loved like he'd never loved anyone else, ever.

"As long as you're not ruling anal out
entirely." A trembling finger caressed Ashton's lips.

"No, just not right now. Please don't think
my saying no has anything to do with not wanting to." He didn't
know which direction his lover would take at the denial. He hadn't,
after all, even realized Bailey harbored these doubts and regrets
about his worthiness. Bailey let out a breath of relief, and Ashton
vowed silently to put his best efforts into assuring Bailey that as
bruised and damaged as he felt himself to be, he was perfect for
Ashton.

"I'm not going to freak out again. I
promise. Can't blame me for trying." The wicked grin flashed back.
"So you had something more like this in mind then?"

With a purposeful movement, Bailey trapped
Ashton's dick alongside his own between their lower bodies. He
leaned forward and brushed their lips together. Instinctively,
Ashton brought his knees up to cradle Bailey against him, hooking
one calf around Bailey's knee to lock him in place.

Willing to concede only so much control to
his young lover, Ashton immediately opened his mouth and sucked
Bailey's questing tongue in. He wrestled for control of the kiss,
but Bailey fought his dominance with a fervor that left him
breathless and weak. Their tongues slid together, seeking sweet
places, spurring sensitivity and heightening passion with moist
caresses. He slipped one hand down the broad back and curled his
fingers around a taut buttock.