Jasper’s fingers tightened on my shoulder and jaw once more as his thrusting increased, fucking my face like I planned on fucking him.
His breathing instantly became ragged, the salty tang increasing over my tongue as I desperately devoured him.
Without conscious thought, I took my own erection with one hand and began to pump as I gripped his asscheek with my other, forcing him deeper.
We both lost our rhythm, my teeth bumping against his shaft, and him shoving deep enough to cause me to gag again. Our bodies writhed. He pushed deeper and deeper into my throat as he panted. My cock banged into his calf as I thrust into my fist.
And then his fingers tightened painfully as he cried out, as he yelled my name and emptied into me. Hot jet after hot jet surging down my throat.
As he shuddered and jerked against me, my own orgasm erupted, a nearly aching, painful release after the countless hours of pent-up desire. With one final thrust, one final surge, I sank against him, chest against his thighs, his barely softening cock still in my mouth.
Suddenly aware I was gripping his ass so tightly I’d probably leave bruises, I released him and slowly pulled off of his cock, then gave one final lick, eliciting one final shudder.
We stayed there, frozen, save for the mutual panting as we struggled to catch our breaths.
I wanted to touch him again. Wanted to do it all again.
In the countless hookups I’d had over the years, I always felt the desire to leave as the post-orgasm crash set in. That sensation didn’t come this time. Just the opposite. If anything, I needed him more.
Jasper stepped back, or at least attempted to. Apparently having forgotten, he nearly stumbled over his pajamas pooled at his ankles. He managed to pull his foot free and regain his balance. He reached down, and instead of sliding them back on, stepped free of them completely and picked them up off the floor.
Using the mattress to assist, I pushed myself up to a standing position, towering over him once more.
We stared at each other in the dark, but from my new position, I blocked the light on his face and couldn’t see his expression.
He moved a little farther back again, then paused. “Um… thanks f—” He cut his own words off with a shake of his head and then exhaled. “Not really sure what to say.”
Neither was I. “That’s okay.” There was something else to say, there had to be. But I couldn’t come up with it.
Finally he motioned to the door and started to move. “Well… I’ll leave you… I’ll let you get some sleep.”
He made it a good three steps before I proved I’d lost all control and the ability to think things through. “You could join me. If you want.”
Jasper halted, then slowly turned to face me. At last I could see his expression. And as his emotions had proved multiple times over the evening, he wore them on his sleeve. There was surprise, and to my pleasure, hope. “Stay in here? Sleep with you?”
I wasn’t sure if it was that look on his face or the crack in his voice, but whatever it was did something deliciously painful to my heart. Probably deliciously dangerous as well. “Yeah. If you’d like to.”
Another hesitation. “I don’t want to be a bother. I don’t expect—”
“I’d like you to.” Well shit, if it wasn’t terrifying how true that actually was.
He seemed to hear the sincerity in my words and didn’t say anything else, simply dropped his pajama bottoms to the floor and return to the bed.
I got in first, slid over to make room, tucked my feet under the sheets, and then did something I had never done with any other man. I shifted so my left arm stretched over the empty space and motioned for him to get in.
Jasper stared at me for so long I thought he was going to change his mind, then he let out a shaky breath, crawled in beside me, and turned so his back pressed against my chest and stomach and his head sheltered in the crook of my shoulder.
I pulled the sheets around us so slowly I probably revealed how terrified I was, wrapped my arm around Jasper, felt him relax, and then pulled him tighter against me.
Jasper trembled and let out a long sigh.
If it matched what I was feeling, then it was a sigh of contentment. And wasn’t that something?
He fell asleep quite a while before I did. As the light of dawn began to fill the room, I was still marveling at the man in my arms. That I had a man in my arms. I’d had hookups in countless ways over the past years. More than made up for any lost time. But never this. Never anything like this.
Not allowing myself to second-guess, I finally pressed my lips to the back of his head, and fell asleep.
The room was bright when I woke. Bright enough it had to be late morning. But I didn’t notice. The entire world was encapsulated by the sensations on my cock, and the vision that filled my eyes.
Jasper was above me, straddling me. Rocking his hips perfectly so my erection traveled the crease of his ass, and he pushed slightly, teasing me with his hole.
That alone would have made me laugh. Having gone to bed with someone so tentative he’d nearly seemed innocent, only to wake up in what looked like midsex. I’d have laughed and then shoved into him.
Only the sight of him stole any humor.
If I’d thought Jasper glowed in the moonlight, it was nothing to how he looked naked in the clarity of day. His red hair was nearly on fire, and his lean muscles revealed how firm and full they were as they flexed and lengthened while he writhed above me. But the most glorious part was his smile. Though his body screamed lust, his smile practically sang happiness.
It was an intoxicating combination.
“Good morning.” Somehow his smile broadened, became even more beautiful. “Didn’t figure you’d mind being woken up like this.”
“Not at all.” I was a little surprised I was capable of speech, given the situation. I lifted one hand to cup his face, smoothed my thumb over his cheek, and looked into those crystalline blue eyes.
That gave me pause, but just for a moment. It had only been a flash, just like it had been the day before. Some weird sense of déjà vu, of familiarity.
I pushed it aside. I didn’t want to think about any of the other countless redheads I’d been with. Not right then. Jasper was special. I wasn’t even entirely sure why, but he was. I didn’t want any of the ones from my past intruding.
He seemed not to notice as there was no glitch in his rhythm, no falter in his smile. He leaned a bit closer. “Don’t be too loud. Xander is downstairs. I don’t want him to hear.”
That threw me off, especially after thinking I didn’t want anyone else to intrude. “Xander?”
“Yeah, the kid who helps me out with the shop. He always opens on Sundays. It’s why we can sleep in.”
Right. That did sound familiar. There’d been a lot of details the day before, too many to take in while I’d been doing my best to shove any desire I felt for Jasper away.
Turned out, that had been wasted effort.
“I can be quiet.”
“Good.” His smile turned just a touch wicked. “But not too quiet.” Still rocking his ass against my cock, Jasper lowered his head to mine and kissed me.
And while there was most definitely desire and heat in his kiss, it was sweet and a little desperate. The way his tongue met mine, the soft firmness of his lips, the familiar taste of him.
My eyes shot open, and I flinched.
Jasper pulled back slightly, looking concerned, those blue eyes wide. “You okay? Is kissing too far?”
Those blue eyes. The kiss.
It couldn’t be. Absolutely couldn’t be.
But there they were, so very blue in the daylight, without his glasses….
But his hair. He’d had long hair.
And his body. He’d been thin and lanky. Not athletically muscular, not at all.
But those eyes. That kiss.
It couldn’t be.
“Are you…?” Though I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence, I scrambled ba
ck from him slightly, propping myself up on my elbows as Jasper repositioned so he didn’t fall.
It couldn’t be.
But it was.
“It really is you, isn’t it?”
Jasper cocked his head, confusion clouding his expression. “You didn’t know? I thought… I thought….”
Holy fuck.
The room closed in and the air evaporated.
“I gotta… I have to….” What? What did I have to do?
I pulled my legs free from where they were still entangled with Jasper’s and managed to stand. I found my clothes where I’d left them at the foot of the bed the night before.
“It really is you.” I didn’t wait for a response, just began stuffing myself into my jeans.
Jasper got out of bed as well, but on the other side. “I thought you realized. I thought you just wanted to ignore… didn’t want to talk about it.”
I shoved my feet into my shoes and began pulling on my shirt as I hurried out of the bedroom.
“You’re leaving?” Jasper followed, sounding panicked and hurt, his bare feet smacking on the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry. I really thought….”
Yes. I was leaving. I had to leave. I turned and saw those blue eyes, wide with guilt, and maybe fear.
Then I remembered why I was here. “No. I’m not leaving. I just need a breath. I’ll be back. Just… give me a minute.”
And with that, I fled his apartment, hurried down the steps, burst through the back door, and stepped on a crimson rose lying on the doorstep.
Five
Jasper
It wasn’t heartbreak that ripped through me as Russell tore out of the apartment. Although it felt like it. It felt like loss. But that didn’t make sense either. He’d barely been in my life more than a hot minute, definitely not enough to experience loss, and most assuredly not enough to even consider heartbreak.
True, it had been years since I’d experienced the things I had in Russell’s arms the night before. No, not even the night before. We’d fallen asleep just a few short hours ago. The sex had been one thing. Intoxicating and surreal. Having that huge, sexy man on his knees, so aroused that he climaxed as he took my load. Not an everyday experience, but still, it was sex. No matter how hot, it was just sex.
But then that invitation to stay. And the feel of settling in his arms. His strength and warmth surrounding me. His slow breathing composing a lullaby next to my ear. Though it had only been a matter of moments all those years before, and another case of simply just sex, it felt like a completion somehow. We didn’t know each other, not really, not at all. But Russell Wallace meant something to me. Had for years, even when I didn’t know his name. Even if I’d never seen him again. Then there I was, out of the blue, suddenly in his arms once more. Really in his arms.
I’d woken and strangely wasn’t confused. Didn’t wonder why I wasn’t in my bed, didn’t take a heartbeat to figure out whose body was next to mine. Didn’t even dread when he would open his eyes, see me, and we’d have to hash through the details that always followed sex.
It just felt right, my place in Russell’s arms. Even that notion didn’t bring on a wave of panic, though maybe it should have. I’d woken up exactly where I was meant to be.
As his thunderous steps echoed from the stairs, the feeling that couldn’t be heartbreak or genuine loss was joined by shame. I told myself I’d become a new Jasper since moving to Lavender Shores. Found a lot of pride in that fact. Maybe that had all been an illusion. I’d fallen for Neal almost at first sight, and what a tragedy that had turned out to be. There I was again, thirty years old and giving my heart away as easily and as stupidly as when I’d been eighteen. Hadn’t even realized I’d been doing so.
Suddenly uncomfortable with my nakedness, I retrieved my pajama bottoms from the floor. Just as I was exiting, Russell stepped back into the apartment. I halted, surprised he’d return so quickly. From the way he’d fled, I’d expected him not to come back, no matter what he’d said on his way out the door.
Despite myself, a flare of hope ignited.
It faded as I noticed the crushed rose in Russell’s hand.
He laid it on the high counter that separated the kitchen from the dining space and removed the tissue he’d used to hold it. “This was just outside the back door.” He sounded apologetic. As if the rose was his fault.
I closed the distance and inspected it, though I didn’t reach out to touch. It was the same standard red variety as the first one. Though the bud had been flattened and some of the petals were damaged or missing. As before, the long stem was smooth, not a thorn in sight. Which, considering Neal, was the height of irony.
Despite my denials to Harrison, I had no doubt Neal was the giver of the roses. Knew it the second I saw the first one. I could practically feel him on it. The same was true with this one. A different sort of dread grew in me with the second rose, however. Not as much fear as with the first one… more of a disgust, a sense of violation, even though this one hadn’t even been inside my property like its brother. When had Neal stood outside the door? While I’d been lying in bed, trying to talk myself into sleep, deceiving myself that I wasn’t going to cross the line with Russell? Maybe while my cock had been in Russell’s mouth? Or… while I’d slept in Russell’s arms, feeling so safe and secure. Happy.
What a delusion that had been.
“I did a quick scan of the area. I didn’t see anything else out of place.”
Again, Russell sounded as if he’d caused the entire thing.
I was surprised at his continued nearness, considering how he’d run only moments before. I looked up into his brown eyes. There was concern there, compassion. I’d expected to see nothing but walls, but that wasn’t the case. Even his panic was visible. That wasn’t about Neal.
“I thought you realized yesterday. I wasn’t sure why you didn’t bring it up, but I decided maybe you just wanted to pretend it never happened. It was long enough ago and a very different situation. That maybe, since you were here for a job, we were just going to sweep over it.”
“We don’t need to worry about that right now. It’s not important.” He gestured with his chin at the rose. “Keeping you safe is what matters. And obviously Neal isn’t going anywhere.”
So that was how we were going to play this. Go back to how we’d been the day before. Make it all about goddamned stupid roses. Got it.
A heartbeat and surge of anger later, I changed my mind. I didn’t get it. And maybe I wasn’t a completely different Jasper than I’d been before moving to Lavender Shores, but neither was I the same man who took every cue from someone else and deferred to others’ judgments. I took a step back so I could more easily look into Russell’s face without craning my neck and feeling like a child.
“You know what, Neal isn’t here right now. It’s just this stupid rose. Unless you’re aware of something about flowers that I’m not, it’s no danger to us. I’m not going back to pretending that we don’t know each other.” Just as my voice was beginning to rise, I remembered that had been my perception, but judging from Russell’s genuine panic, that hadn’t been reality. “Okay, that isn’t fair. I guess you weren’t pretending; I just thought we were. But either way I’m not doing it now. Sorry you didn’t realize it was me. It took me a little bit to realize it was you as well. The sunglasses and the beard threw me off.” I forced out a dark laugh. “Not to mention the blur of seven years.”
Russell used the tissue to lift the rose and looked like he was about to argue. To my surprise, he let out a breath and set the flower back to its place. “Fine. We’ll do this now.” He leaned against the counter with a sigh, his voice softening. “I really didn’t know it was you. I thought you looked familiar. But I chalked that up to so many different….” His complexion flushed behind his beard, and he gave a quick shake of his head. “Sorry I didn’t remember you.” Another shake of his head and what looked like panic flashed behind his eyes. “That’s not right. I remembered you. I do remembe
r you. I just didn’t recognize you.”
I could’ve sworn I felt something behind those words. Longing, care, something. But clearly I couldn’t trust my perception of things. He didn’t seem on the verge of running, though. So that was a good sign. Still, I kept my distance.
“If I had realized that you didn’t know who I was, I wouldn’t have come into your room. I thought I felt, I don’t know, a pull from you all day yesterday. Probably was in my own mind.”
He chuckled and sort of grinned. “You know you did. I may not have recognized you, but clearly I am—was attracted to you. I’d say that was pretty obvious last night.”
Was attracted to me. That stung.
I didn’t have to figure out how to reply as Russell motioned over my body. I’d forgotten I was shirtless, and suddenly felt overly exposed. “Even now that I know it’s you, I can barely believe it. I mean, I can see you under there somewhere, but you’re so different. Your hair, you wear glasses now, or at least you did yesterday.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “That was actually my last night with long hair. I cut it all off the next day. I wore glasses back then too, but they don’t work very well at a bathhouse, they get all steamed up.”
Just like the day before, as he looked at me, his desire was clear. “But your body. You were so skinny, almost waifish.”
“I was a kid, twenty-three. I had some filling out to do.” I shrugged and pulled my arms tighter around me. I still hated how thin I was. “It’s not like I’ve morphed into a football player.”
“Thank goodness. That wouldn’t look right on you. But you’ve clearly been hitting the gym. I just never would’ve expected”—he motioned over me again—“this. You’ve got, like, a hard swimmer’s build now. Every time I thought of you over the years, you were just this pretty, long-haired wisp of a man-child.”
“Man-child?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Then realized he’d said he thought about me over the years. As I had him. Maybe not quite as countlessly as I had, but still. Self-consciously I rubbed the scruff on my chin. “Although maybe that’s a fair descriptor. Anytime I get a drink outside of Lavender Shores, I still get carded.”
The Alcove (Lavender Shores Book 7) Page 7