with you all the time. I thought you’d be glad.”
Again, no sign of the joy and pleasure he’d expected to see.
“I’m thrilled you’re here. It’s such a turnabout from the past year, you caught me by surprise, that’s all.” Chess wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. “I guess I’m still in shock to see you here.”
“Get used to it, love. I plan to be around much more. Now I’m all about taking a shower and then a nap.”
“You do look tired.” Chess touched his face.
“I’m really not. It’s just a way to get you into bed with me.” He waggled his brows, but Chess remained serious.
“I don’t need an excuse to want to be with you.”
Their lips met in a hard, hungry kiss, and André’s rattled nerves settled. Nothing had changed. Everything would be as it always was. It was going to be fine.
Chapter Three
Chess was worried. Yes, the pictures concerned him, but he believed there had to be a reasonable explanation for them, and he was damned if he’d spring that on André his first day home after a six-month absence.
Hell, no.
What worried him more was André’s appearance. Lines scored his once-smooth brow, and puffy bags resided under his eyes. Silver threads glinted in his thick, dark-brown hair, and though he tried to hide his weight loss under the bulky sweat shirt, Chess could feel how much thinner he’d gotten. He feared André teetered on the edge of complete exhaustion, confirming his thoughts when they lay in bed. The moment his head hit the pillow, André had fallen asleep and hadn’t moved in hours.
Gentle as a butterfly, Chess leaned close and pressed a kiss to André’s shoulder and then another. A sigh of contentment greeted his action.
“Don’t stop there, love. I’ve dreamed of your kisses for months now.”
“Mmm. You’re awake. If you insist. I’m here to please.” Chess couldn’t contain his smile and did as asked, continuing to feather barely-there kisses over André’s neck. A deep groan of pure pleasure vibrated against his lips.
“You more than please me. Oh, so good,” André moaned and lay on his stomach, presenting Chess with his broad shoulders and back, and giving Chess full access to his body. “Don’t stop.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” Chess’s tongue danced along the sweep of André’s spine. “And I don’t want to.” He decided the best way to reconnect at that moment was to make love to André as if it were their first time together.
“Do you know how often I thought of us like this?”
Chess skimmed his hands over André’s torso, wrenching another moan from his boyfriend’s lips. “Tell me. Tell me what you want from me. I want to please you.”
“You next to me is pleasure enough.”
André rolled onto his side, and Chess rid himself of his boxers and spooned André’s naked body. “I’m right here.” He reached around and fisted André’s cock, running his hand up and down the ridge of heated flesh. “Do you feel me?”
“You’re all I feel, love. All I want.”
They rocked together, Chess’s hips moving faster as his hand gripped André’s cock, rubbing its length. André’s groans of pleasure rose in the heavy silence of the room.
“You have me. I’m yours. Always.” His balls tingled, and his heart pounded at a furious pace.
“Chess, Chess,” André cried out, clawing at the bedsheets, pushing his ass into Chess harder.
He thrust his cock into the crease of André’s ass over and over, losing himself in the rhythm of their bodies. His vision blurred and come spurted over André’s back. Almost simultaneously, André climaxed into his hand, his body jerking until he lay panting and shivering.
Chess had no idea how many minutes passed before he found the energy to move, and even then, it was only to bury his face in André’s neck and whisper. “Welcome home.”
André’s laughter vibrated through his large frame. “For a moment I was afraid I’d die, and all I could think of was the newspaper headline: ‘Man Dies From Orgasm That Blows Both Heads Off.’ ”
Chess snickered. “That’s one for the Post for sure.” Languid and luxuriating in the headiness of after-pleasure, he continued to lavish kisses on André’s neck. “I was thinking.”
“Mmm? Can it wait? I’m sticky from head to toe, and I really need a shower.”
“Sure. I’ll make us coffee, and I think Martine made you your favorite scones.”
André faced him, blue eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction. “Raspberry-lemon?”
“Yeah. I might’ve snitched one…or two.”
André’s gaze snapped to his, pretend outrage sending his dark brows