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“Will you come home with me?” Jasper asked once we’d bid goodnight to Silas and Troy and shut ourselves in his car.
“I’d love to.”
He flashed a crooked grin that warmed my insides and sent blood rushing to my groin. “Is your head feeling okay?”
I touched the still-tender bump near my temple covered with a smaller bandage. “Yes.”
“Shoulder?”
“I’m good, Jasper. More than well enough for you to fuck me into the mattress like you promised.”
He hissed a curse, pressing down on his dick. “You’re going to make me break the speed limit.”
I laughed and reached over to grasp his upper thigh. “Take your time,” I murmured, sliding upward to cup his bulge, his cock thickening against my palm. “I’d rather my balls ache and arrive safely than end up in the hospital again because you drove into a ditch.”
Jasper grabbed my wrist to stop me from stroking him. “I think you need to sit over there, keep your hands to yourself, and let me concentrate on getting us to my bed in one piece.”
I did as told, smiling. “I like it when you’re bossy.”
“I’ve noticed.” Jasper shot me another grin. “And I love that you appreciate who I am and how I want to love on you.”
“Have youeverbottomed?”
“Once, and I hated it. And before you say that the guy must have gone about it all wrong, that I would have enjoyed it if it had been done right—I dated him for a year before I gave in. There was something like love between us, and the chemistry was far from lacking.” Jasper shrugged. “It’s just not for me.”
“That’s how I feel about topping.”
“There are no expectations here, Mason,” Jasper said, his voice growing serious. “It’s easy to assume that we’ll be a perfect match in bed, but if we’re not, that’s alright. I want you comfortable, for you to experience nothing but pleasure. Safety.”
“You’re one of the few people Idofeel safe with,” I told him, wishing I didn’t have to clasp my hands in my lap like a little kid when I wanted—needed—to have physical contact with him. “For some reason, I’m not able to squash my emotions when we’re together, and strangely, I’m perfectly okay with that.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, somewhat emboldened by the jealousy I’d felt over his friend’s relationship. My heart rate sped up from a slight adrenaline release. “I have high hopes for us. I think this is the beginning of something beautiful.”
His eyes darkened when he glanced at me, promising the same sentiment.
But he didn’t speak the words I’d longed to hear.
Heaviness threatened to sink over my mind, but I couldn’t dismiss the way Jasper looked at me. What his touch conveyed every time his fingertips brushed over my skin, how his hand always reached for mine and clung with the exact same desperation I experienced when around him.
My hands tightened together atop my lap, and I struggled with wanting to reach for him and being good so as to not distract his driving.
When we arrived at his building, he opened my door and offered me what I’d been needing. My breath left in a rush as our fingers tangled once more, easing my insecurity that maybe weweren’ton the same page. Legs shaking, I followed him into his house in Malden, mere minutes from Humanity House where he worked.
Unlike Troy and Silas’s place, Jasper’s didn’t have a million-dollar view, fancy artwork on his walls, or a state-of-the-art kitchen. But he did have a home, one that I’d learned the day before while stopping by on the way to the police station was comfortable with bright pillows and a fleece throw on the couch. There were even a couple of watercolors and pencil sketches stuck on his fridge—kids from Humanity House, he’d explained.
“It’s not much,” he said, same as he had the first time I’d followed him in, while tossing his keys onto his island/eat-in bar in the middle of his kitchen.
“It’s clean and comfortable,” I reminded him and kicked off my shoes, appreciating the scent of freshness. No dirty dishes littered his sink or Formica countertops.
Pink blushed Jasper’s cheeks as he took my hand and led me into his bedroom. “You just showered a little while ago, but if you need—”
“I prepped at home.”
He smiled and tugged me into his arms. “You’re wonderful.”
“I’m not.”
A huffed snort escaped him. “Youare, Mason Thomson, and I won’t hear any different from your lips, understand?”
I nodded, ready to melt into him and lose myself to the pleasure I yearned for.
