James inhaled long and deep, flooding his lungs with the cool morning air pushing its way past billowing curtains.
He didn’t open his eyes. Yet. The London air mingled with the heady, clean scent of dark, pillow-tousled hair. James inhaled again, pushing his face deeper into the inviting softness.
He glanced the flat of a hard palm lightly up Q’s back to run his fingers in a firm, loving caress up through the waves, releasing more of his addictive essence.
“Hey,” mumbled his sleep-ridden bedfellow. “I spent hours on that look…”
“I can fix that,” James breathed invitingly.