Demming by Avril Ashton

Twelve

Hart came awake with his face buried in a pillow and lifted his head with a grunt. He rolled onto his back, arms stretching out in search of the man who’d been next to him when he’d closed his eyes. Except he was alone in the big bed.

He lurched upright, blinking burning eyes, and glanced around, taking in their clothes tossed aside last night, the rumpled bed, sheets almost off the mattress, pillows strewn about. He ached, but it was a pleasant thing, reminding him of what they’d done last night. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his lips.

But he immediately smothered it, because where was Sawyer? Was he somewhere regretting what they’d done, wishing it hadn’t happened? He rolled out of the bed and put on his boxer briefs before heading into the bathroom and quickly brushing his teeth with the spare toothbrush Sawyer had pointed out to him last night before they finally fell asleep. Done with that, he splashed water on his face then dried off before peering at himself in the mirror.

He looked as he felt, tired and achy, but still so good.

He left the bathroom and went in search of Sawyer. He immediately spotted him outside on the balcony, a cup in his hand, head turned to the side just enough for Hart to make out the pensive expression on his face. The euphoria Hart felt upon waking evaporated and he took a moment to study the other man through the clear glass double doors. Sawyer was bunched against the balcony railing, wearing long and loose slate-gray pants and nothing else. His hair was mussed and when Hart opened the door and stepped out, approaching him, Hart made out red scratches on his shoulders and upper back.

Scratches Hart put there.

Sawyer didn’t seem to hear him approach, caught up as he was in whatever was on his mind, so—unsure of his reception—Hart stood next to him, giving him a bit of space and mimicking his stance. “Morning.”

Sawyer jerked and turned to him, eyes warming. “Good morning.” His voice rumbled with a sexiness that made Hart’s body stir.

He didn’t know the kind of man Sawyer was when he was out there doing his job, dealing with less than scrupulous people, but in Hart’s presence, he was somebody altogether different. Sweet and gentle and full of surprises.

Like last night.

Cooking for him.

The painting.

Bottoming for Hart.

“You look serious,” he murmured. “What’s on your mind?’

Sawyer sipped his coffee then shrugged. “Just going over some things in my mind.”

Some things like them? Last night? Hart swallowed and made himself ask because it was better if he knew the deal upfront, wasn’t it? “Thinking about last night and what we did? Are you regretting it?”

Sawyer frowned fiercely. “What? No—” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you all the way over there?”

It was Hart’s turn to shrug. “Like I said, you looked serious,” he said as Sawyer put down his cup on the little table nearby. “You didn’t look as if you’d welcome—”

Sawyer grabbed his left wrist and yanked him into his body. Hart crashed into him with a soft “oof” that Sawyer swallowed when he kissed him. Hart’s lashes fluttered closed and he sighed, wrapping both arms around the other man’s shoulders as Sawyer cupped his face, finger gently combing through Hart’s beard as he deepened the kiss. He tasted like coffee and was just as eager and receptive as he’d been last night.

That response single-handedly wiped away all of Hart’s doubts and he buried his face in Sawyer’s neck once the other man released his mouth. It was too early for his heart to be racing the way it was. For his cock to be as hard as it was.

But he couldn’t help it. Not when it came to Sawyer Demming.

Sawyer cupped his nape and tugged his head back until their eyes met. His gaze was serious, searching, when he said, “There are no regrets. Except only that I can’t spend all day in bed with you.”

Hart stroked his cheek. “Then next time you should make sure to be there beside me when I wake up in your bed.”

Sawyer brushed a knuckle over his brow and nodded once. “I will be.” He kissed Hart again, softer this time, gentler, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to make Hart moan. “How did you sleep?”

“Hmm.” Hart kissed his nose. “Good. So good.” It was the truth, too. Usually, he fell asleep with his laptop or tablet in bed. Before Sawyer, the last thing on his mind at night was work. It was also the first thing he thought of the moment his eyes opened in the mornings. But there’d been only Sawyer when he closed his eyes last night, wrung dry and deliciously exhausted. And this morning, this was the first moment work even entered his mind.

He pushed it away.

“I’m glad. You want coffee?” When he nodded, Sawyer made him wait where he was and went inside briefly, returning with a cup of coffee that he handed over.

Hart took it with a smile, sitting at the little table. He still wore only his underwear and the cool air chilled his skin, but he didn’t mind it, especially not when Sawyer joined him.

“I had a conversation with my mother yesterday,” Sawyer said while staring into his cup. “I don’t know why I never brought it up to her before. Maybe I just assumed…” He blew out a breath, scratching at the five o’clock shadow along his jaw.

“What is it?”

Sawyer maintained eye contact as he spoke. “I asked her, hypothetically, what she would do if she had possession of Larchmont.”

“And?” Hart prodded when he didn’t continue.

“She said she wanted nothing to do with it. She didn’t want it.” His expression turned bleak. “All this time, all of my hard work had been to amass a fortune so that I could buy it back and give it to her because I thought she missed it.”

Hart pressed his lips together, clasping the hot cup in his palms. “She doesn’t?”

“She misses my father. Working with him, building something with him, but to her, the location had been just that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, frustration written in every line of his body. “She’d wanted them to move, she told me. It was just a building and they could start over anywhere else, but my dad was stubborn and—” He shook his head. “She doesn’t want it.”

Shit. That definitely had to come as a shock after everything he’d done to get the property. Hart put down the cup and touched Sawyer’s knuckles. “Did you tell her the purchase is already in progress?”

Sawyer shook his head. “No. And I won’t.”

“Okay. But what’s the plan now?”

“I’ll think of something.” Sawyer drained his cup then slammed it back to the table. “I always do.” His eyes softened where they rested on Hart’s face. “You looked really peaceful sleeping in my bed. Comfortable too. I liked it.”

Heat washed over Hart and he fought the urge to duck his head and hide his face. “Your bed is very comfortable.”

Sawyer’s eyes sparkled. “Just my bed?”

“No,” Hart whispered. “Everything about you is comfortable. Last night, what you did, getting the painting back, and letting me make love to you? I’m…” An image of Sawyer on his back, face twisted in a beautiful ecstatic grimace as Hart slid in and out of him, filled his head and he lost his train of thought.

“You were everything I imagined you would be,” Sawyer murmured, leaning over to kiss him. It was as if he couldn’t stop kissing Hart; not that he minded it at all. “And I imagined a lot.” He flashed a grin.

Hart stared at him, wondering if he had the time to take him back to bed before heading to the office.

“What are you thinking?“ Sawyer asked.

“That I want to fuck you again,” Hart told him bluntly. “Right now.”

The heat that flared in Sawyer’s eyes matched the simmer in Hart’s lower belly.

“But I can’t.” He released a mournful sound. “I’ve got to head into the office, and since I didn’t bring a change of clothes—because somebody didn’t tell me I would be staying overnight—I have to go home and grab a shower and change first.”

“Let that be a lesson then.” Sawyer winked. “Next time you come over—and by next time, I mean tonight—make sure to bring a change of clothes.”

Hart snapped a salute. “Yes, sir.” He took a sip of his coffee then shared something that had been on his mind for the past few days. “I’m moving out of my parents’ place.”

Sawyer lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s time. I’d moved in when my father first fell ill, just to be close in case they needed me, but he’s out of the woods now and I require privacy.”

“Because of me?” Sawyer cocked his head. “But you were seeing other people, weren’t you? What about—um, the one who was there when I came to your office?”

“Tam was not—they were an occasional stress relief. You are not,” he told the other man firmly.

“No? Then what am I?”

Hart rolled his eyes. “When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

Sawyer hummed low in his throat, though his eyes danced when their gazes clashed. Hart couldn’t help smiling.

“If I don’t leave now, something tells me I won’t make it to the office at all.” He got to his feet and Sawyer did as well, rounding the table and wrapping both arms around his waist.

“And is that a bad thing?” he asked.

“No.” He closed his eyes briefly and when he reopened them, Sawyer’s gaze hadn’t left him. “But I do have to go.” He pulled away reluctantly. “I’ll return tonight.”

Sawyer stood back and watched him. “I’ll be here.”

“And I’ll bring dinner.” He took Sawyer’s hand, leading him back inside the condo. “What do you feel like eating?” he asked as he led them into the bedroom.

“You choose. I eat anything.”

Hart grinned. “Yes, you do.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Hart released him and started getting dressed, pulling on his rumpled clothes. “What are you doing today? Do you have jobs or—I know you can’t really discuss them, but…”

“No, I can’t discuss them, but I don’t have any jobs waiting. I’m taking a bit of a time-out.” His smile turned crooked. “Which I haven’t done in a long time. I’ve always liked being busy.”

“But now?” Hart asked as he shook out his jacket and put it on.

“Now…” Sawyer’s stare turned soft as he eyed Hart from head to toe. “Now, I see the value in slowing down every now and then.”

“Good.” Hart went to him where he sat on the edge of the bed and stood between his thighs, cupping the back of his head and tipping it back, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose. “I like you like this.”

“Me too,” Sawyer whispered. “I’m hoping to meet with my brother today. He’s been avoiding me, but he can’t keep it up forever.”

“Good luck with that.” Cradling the back of his head, Hart kissed him again, because he loved the feel of Sawyer’s lips on his. He loved the little sounds he made, like his breath catching, when they kissed. He loved it. He pulled back after ravaging the other man’s mouth one last time. “Come show me out, Mr. Demming.”

Sawyer did, taking him all the way out to the elevator and pressing him up against the wall, kissing him again. Hart tangled his fingers in his lover’s hair, tugging gently while refusing to break the kiss.

Sawyer had become an addiction, apparently, and he couldn’t bring himself to break free.

Sawyer had to be the one to do it and he did, after tearing himself away and licking his lips. “Go. Otherwise, I won’t let you.”

Hart almost called his bluff but made himself get on the waiting elevator. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said as the elevator doors closed.