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There was no point in ruining his vacation by telling him I’d gotten jumped minutes after leaving the hotel. I replied that I was fine and would talk with him once he got home from Maine.
Jasper returned and approached my side of the bed. “If you’re feeling up to it, I thought I could take you down to the police station so we can help them find your attacker. I can imagine you’re ready to put this behind you sooner rather than later.”
Instead of answering right away, I chewed my mouthful of sugary sweetness while accepting the pills he offered. Would closure to the case be the end of…us? Would a man being handcuffed, charged, and either fined or put behind bars make Jasper move on?
“We can do that,” I stated quietly, my heart torn between wanting exactly what he said and clinging to him as long as possible. His blow job had been the best of my life. His fingers, his tongue…
I shivered at the memory, digging deeper inside for emotions I should have fought to keep buried. My past had taught me that once unearthed, my feelings could be manipulated—but Jasper hadn’t shown a single hint of narcissistic tendencies.
My desire for him went far beyond lust and the intimacy we’d shared. I dealt with the crush of the century and couldn’t imagine not having him in my life.
“When you’re finished there, why don’t you hop in the shower,” he suggested. “We’ll swing by my place on the way so I can do the same.” Jasper squeezed my good shoulder as though sensing my need to be grounded.
His touch settled me, and I once more sank into a strongly arousing peacefulness I’d never felt with anyone. “Sounds good,” I agreed, excited about seeing what the next couple of hours held.
* * *
Finally having the chance to get to know one another better without drugs or interference, Jasper and I talked nonstop on the way to his place and then the station. We had already shared the most burdensome parts of each other, the similar wounds of our childhood trauma, and chose to keep our conversation light.
Instrumental music filtered through his car’s stereo, soothing and calm, a choice I couldn’t have been happier with. I learned he had played the cello as a child. I loved the instrument. We laughed to find we had a shared addiction to Yo-Yo Ma and had the same exact streaming playlists as each other.
Jasper held my hand atop his thigh, fingers warm and strong around mine. I studied how his thumb caressed the back of my hand, enjoying the electrical charges racing to my fingertips after each stroke.
“I love your hands,” I murmured.
Jasper squeezed a little. “I love touching you.”
Arousal rushed through my center, settling in my groin. “I can be a bit much sometimes, but with you, I’m…super needy. Maybe it’s because no one has ever shown me the kind of attention you do?” My statement sounded more like a question, but it adequately summed how he made me feel.
“Perhaps you cling because you’re anxious about losing something you’ve just found.”
I lifted my focus to Jasper’s profile. That soft smile curved his lips upward. How had he figured me out so quickly? “What have I found?” I asked, my voice breathless as my heart pounded.
“Potential for a close connection I think both of us want.” He glanced my way, his tender gaze full of the same longing tugging on my insides.
“I’m hopeful,” I murmured past the thickness in my throat, allowing him another piece of me I’d hidden away.
“Me too, Mason.” Jasper lifted our clasped hands and kissed mine with a gentle brush of his lips. “Me too.”
We pulled into the station’s parking lot a short time later and made our way inside, hands still clasped, walking so close our shoulders bumped with every step.
“Are you holding up okay?” he asked once we sat on chairs in the lobby area while waiting for Detective Jenner.
“Just nervous. The pills helped my headache.” A slow, steady inhale allowed me to calm myself so I could replace the mask I’d taken off in front of Jasper.
Keeping my hands lightly clasped in front of me, I feigned having my shit together. Held eye contact with those around us. Straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin.
The detective arrived, greeted us both by name, and motioned us to follow him. He didn’t waste any time, asking if I wished to press charges if they caught my attacker—which I confidently told him I did. Detective Jenner then dove into the questions once we settled at a table across from him in a small conference-type room.
Enough space existed between Jasper’s and my chair that reaching for his hand and showing my weakness would be obvious. So I didn’t—but I longed to. My chest ached for his touch.
I shared about my evening from the moment I’d left the hotel, wracking my brain for every sensory memory surrounding being assaulted. While I didn’t feel as though I’d given any more information than I had while at the hospital, the detective nodded, prompting me with questions from different angles. But, without having actually seen the person, I didn’t have much to offer other than the strength with which they hit me and the heaviness of the boots that had battered my body.
He then went on to Jasper, listening intently and making notes as he recounted his side of the night before. Jasper stated the person hadn’t been very tall—perhaps his height but was covered in dark clothing. Black jeans and boots…but a nicer shirt rather than a thug’s hoodie or ripped tank top. A black ski mask had covered his head.
Unfortunately, the police hadn’t been able to locate the man who’d run to my aid with Jasper.
“There are no cameras on the alleyway,” Detective Jenner went on to explain. “And unfortunately, the knife we found on site only had a couple of partial fingerprints. We’re running them through the system, but it’s not looking promis—”
