After they’d stepped inside the apartment, Harris had quickly noticed how shaky Jude was. He’d poured him a glass of wine but that had been a mistake. Jude was exhausted and the wine had only made his fatigue worse.
After a few quiet words, Harris had led Jude to his bed and minutes later, Jude had fallen asleep against him. Inside his arms. And that had been better than sex. To hold Jude while he slept, to breathe into his hair and feel his heart beat against his chest, had filled him with strength. With Jude at his side, he could do anything, be anyone.
Now Harris stared at Jude’s face on the pillow, making silent promises to him. He wouldn’t mess this up. He’d be a better man. He’d take care of Jude. Treat him like a king. A powerful feeling of protectiveness came over him and he carefully touched Jude’s cheek.
Jude opened his eyes but didn’t look directly at him. “No,” he mumbled. “No way.”
“What?” Harris asked, surprised. “I wasn’t doing anything.I only touched your face.”