Page 10 of Charmed By You
Chapter 5
Henry groaned as he came awake, stretching and feeling the ache in his muscles. He was sore. He felt like he’d been put through a grinder and spit back out. He was tired and everything hurt. He felt every single minute of his thirty-four years after staying up half the night fucking a man over a decade younger than him.
But God, it had been worth it.
He rolled to his side with a grunt, his arm already reaching out for Elliot. He’d woken up with his normal morning wood and he knew exactly how he wanted to handle it. He wanted that smart mouth wrapped around him, sucking him, that ridiculously sexy pierced tongue lapping at his balls until he exploded. His eyes shot open when all he found was rumpled sheets and a pillow that smelled like his shampoo.
The spot beside him on the bed was empty. Not just empty but cold, as if Elliot had taken his heat with him when he left. If Henry had to guess, he’d left hours ago.
“Shit.” He cursed as he sat upright and looked around the large hotel room just to be sure but he’d already known the pile of clothes and shoes that had littered the floor would be gone and they were, just like the man that had turned him inside out. He dropped his head into his hands and swore.
He couldn’t believe that Elliot was gone. He’d left without so much as a word. He’d just disappeared, almost as if he’d never been there. There was no trace of him anywhere despite their hours and hours of lovemaking and…
Henry’s head snapped up at the thought. That word played on a loop in his mind. Not fucking. Not sex. Lovemaking. Maybe it had been rough and hard, desperate and frantic, it certainly hadn’t been gentle, not even once in many times he’d taken Elliot through the night, but still that word had found its way into his head… and into his heart.
Just like Elliot.
The boy with a chip on his shoulder and a mouth made for sin. The brat that teased and taunted him just to get a rise. The man that drove him crazy with more than just his sexy body, with his sharp mind and witty comebacks. The same man that had become defensive and distant whenever Henry had tried to be sweet with him, making him only try harder to pull the softness he knew was beneath all that armor back to him.
The sex had been amazing. Best of his life, easily. He’d taken Elliot so many times, in so many ways. He’d spent so much time inside him last night that he’d started to feel like home.
Like his.
Mine. He remembered the sense of possessiveness that had overtaken him in the shower. He’d wanted to claim Elliot. He’d felt him pulling away and he’d lost his damn mind. He’d spanked him, which was proof of his insanity because he’d never struck a man, not for pain and certainly not for pleasure. But Elliot had said he wanted it and Henry had needed it in a way that hadn’t made sense, not at the time. It did now.
Elliot was his. He still wanted his blond haired boy. He wanted more of him. One night hadn’t been enough, not nearly enough. He wanted to feel that smooth skin beneath his palms and trace all of those beautiful tattoos. He wanted to learn what each one represented, why Elliot had gotten them and what they meant to him. He needed more everything when it came to Elliot.
He wanted to know him. Really know him. He wanted to know everything about him.
Henry was falling for Elliot, or had fallen. At some point last night, his heart had gotten involved in what should’ve been nothing but physical pleasure. Maybe his heart had been involved from the start, when it had raced at the mere sight of Elliot as if it had known something his mind hadn’t been prepared to face.
In the bright light of day, he still wasn’t sure he was ready to face it. It certainly wouldn’t be easy. Hell, there was no guarantee Elliot even still wanted him. It wasn’t as if he’d stuck around. He’d taken off while Henry was still sleeping to avoid him.
But he didn’t think it was because Elliot felt nothing, he had to believe it was because he thought he felt too much.
Henry wasn’t the kind of man that was used to being told no. He got what he wanted. Always. Now that he’d decided Elliot was what he wanted, he intended to have him. For a lot longer than a night; he thought he might just keep the little brat forever if he’d let him.
Henry scrubbed his face as he threw back the covers. Now that he had a mission, he felt wide-awake. He was going after Elliot. He was getting his man back, because Elliot was his and if he felt like fighting about it, Henry thought me might just spank his ass again and then fuck him until he submitted.
He pulled a clean pair of boxer-briefs from his bag and slid them on. He also threw on a simple white t-shirt and then he wandered over to his pile of clothes from the night before that was still on the floor. He’d have to send the whole thing out for dry cleaning after being crumpled in a ball all night but that had been worth it too. He picked up his pants and shirt, his tie and his jacket, and when he did he saw something shiny on the plush carpet.
Leaning over, he picked it up and squinted in confusion. It was a cufflink but it wasn’t one of his cufflinks. His were sterling silver and this one was a plain, polished gold. It glinted in the morning light and he read the engraving. Two letters, both C, curved around one another, which didn’t make any sense because it could only be Elliot’s cufflink.
He frowned. Unless his sneaky little brat wasn’t actually named Elliot. He scowled at the thought, wondering if he’d been lied to. No. That didn’t seem right. He didn’t think Elliot had lied. He’d seen the way those intense dark eyes had sparkled whenever he called him Ell, whenever he’d ordered Elliot with a firm snap of his name. His name was Elliot. It had to be. But then, why did his cufflink not have his initials on it? An E and a…
“Shit.” Henry cursed under his breath again as he realized he had no idea what Elliot’s last name was.
He’d never gotten it. He’d been too busy pleasuring Elliot, and himself, to bother with formalities. Hell, if left up to him he would have bypassed names altogether he’d been so focused on getting the boy into his bed.
How the hell was he going to track him down when he didn’t know his last name? He had little more than nothing to go off of. Only one tiny, forgotten cufflink left behind like a clue.
Henry did the only thing he could and raised his voice, “Mack, get in here!”
Without waiting for a response he turned and walked back towards his bag. Less than five seconds later the click of a keycard beeped and the door opened behind him. He turned to face his bodyguard as the big man came into the room, eyes sweeping side to side, taking in everything but saying nothing.
Mack had been with him for years. He was ex-military and damn good at his job. He had an ability to fade into the scenery despite his massive size and though he usually remained quiet he was always listening. He heard things, picked up on things most people never clued into during a conversation. If anyone would be able to figure out the cufflink and what it meant, it would be Mack.
“Sir?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Is there a problem?”
