Page 33 of Bailey (Confessions 6)

Bailey came out of the locker room and took a seat on one of the benches, then reached for the hand wraps Henri was just finishing up with. When he realized that Henri was quite proficient at that for someone who hadn’t done this “often,” he asked, “So, where’d you learn to box?”

Henri looked up, and when a piece of his dark hair flopped forward on his forehead, Bailey had the insane urge to reach out and push it back from his face.

The only thing that stopped him was the fact they weren’t alone, and Bailey wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop at just a touch from the man who had opened his door this morning, comforted him, fed him, and was now about to heal him.

“What’s that?” Henri said, snapping Bailey out of his trance.

Bailey looked down at Henri’s wrapped hands. “You’ve clearly done that before. So where’d you learn?”

Henri grabbed up one of the gloves next to him and slipped it on before reaching for the other. “Back home,” he said, as Bailey began to wrap his own hands. “I used to do it sometimes for money when I was a teenager. But also because I wanted to hit something.”

Bailey frowned. That answer was not what he’d expected. But then he thought about why he was there today, what he’d told Henri he was feeling—angry—and wondered if that was why Henri had wanted to hit things.

He’d once said he and his father hadn’t gotten along, and Bailey couldn’t help but wonder if that was why Henri was the way he was now. Had he been an angry boy, a sad one? Bailey wished he were brave enough to ask. He wished he knew for certain that Henri would tell him. But that was a conversation for another day.

Instead, he went with a simpler approach. “Did it help?”

Henri’s eyes darkened until it seemed they were almost black. He shoved the other glove on and said, “It did, for a little while. Until the pain of getting hit wore off and I remembered who I was again.”

The matter-of-fact way Henri delivered that sentence made Bailey’s heart ache, but before he could think of an appropriate response, Henri got to his feet and said, “Sparring mats or the ring, officer?”

Bailey was smart enough to know that Henri was done with that conversation for now. Grabbing the gloves from the bench beside him, Bailey put them on and said, “How about we stick to the mats.”

“The mats it is.”

AROUND FIVE MINUTES into their first go-around, Henri realized his mistake. Sure, Bailey had told him he boxed to keep in shape and unwind after work. But what Bailey didn’t say was just how fucking good he was.

They’d started out with some simple sequences, both getting in some light jabs here and there to each other’s gloves. But before long they’d grown tired of the one-two practice throws with no real challenge or threat and decided to really go after one another—or, as Henri was starting to discover, Bailey came after him.

With his chin down and his eyes forward, Henri had one hand level with his jaw and his other up in a basic guard pose. He was focused and ready, his eyes locked on Bailey’s, as his cop began to lead them around the mat in a dance that required a little more skill than Henri possessed. But it wasn’t until Bailey finally struck that Henri realized he didn’t stand a chance.

Quick as a whip, Bailey’s arm shot out and made sharp contact with the right side of Henri’s torso. The impact was noticeable, but not damaging, and Henri quickly sidestepped the next couple of throws.

Fuck, he’s sexy, Henri thought, and when Bailey smirked, Henri shook his head. I box to unwind. Yeah, right. Bailey knew exactly what he was doing, and Henri was about to call his bluff.

“You think you’re real clever, huh? Tricking me? Just remember, payback is a bitch, Bailey.”

A challenging light entered Bailey’s blue eyes and Henri’s dick twitched. Damn, it’d been a hot minute since he’d seen Bailey look anything other than sad, and it was nice to finally see a spark of life returning to his officer.

“Oh?” Bailey said as his eyes fell to Henri’s feet and he moved with him around the mat. “Is that a threat?”

“Just a friendly reminder that we won’t be in your domain all day.”

“Consider me reminded.” Bailey slicked his tongue over his lower lip, and when Henri’s eyes fell to the move, Bailey took full advantage.

Bailey’s arm shot out again and his glove tapped Henri on the right side, once, twice, and then a third shot landed on his left. But this time Henri recovered quickly and got in a swift jab to Bailey’s upper torso.

Bailey grunted at the impact, and Henri imagined him making the exact same sound in his ear as he shoved inside Bailey in a rough move of possession.

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