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She exhaled through her nose, clenching her teeth as delicate tissues stung with his withdrawal. Although he was careful with her and he wasn't quite erect, she was definitely swollen and bruised. Knowing her pain got him excited, she tried her hardest not to show it, but her sigh of relief when he slipped out of her probably gave it away.
"Stay there while I get a cloth. Be right back." He caressed the curve of her ass, then strode away.
"Like I'm going anywhere," she muttered, a small part of her embarrassed by the semen beginning to leak from her, yet ultimately thrilled by that same fact.
Things were changing quickly. They'd gone from zero to sixty in two days, and ordinarily, it wasn't something she'd do. Sex without protection was a huge exclamation of trust. Maybe some of her faith in Jasper had wavered—okay, come damn close to breaking—but they'd both stated their intentions quite clearly in the removal of condoms from the equation.
And it wasn't like he was a stranger; she'd spent almost a year as his shadow.
Her eyes landed on the pile of chips and cookies on the bedside table, the bottles of water. They hadn't been there when she fell asleep, so he'd gone downstairs for them in case she woke in the night and needed sustenance. That made her feel cared for—he'd tended to her after she was asleep, thought of her even though he'd gotten his rocks off.
He wasn't perfect, and neither was she, but maybe together, they could be something special.
***
Chapter Eleven
At exactly eight o'clock, Jasper waited outside the hospital with Anarchy sulking by his side. She'd been pissed when she realized exactly how early he'd woken her and had voiced her displeasure thoroughly. Apparently, six a.m. was too early for a wake-up call, even if it was so he could bone her senseless, as she so eloquently put it.
His lips twitched.
Spending time with Anarchy outside of Avalon was proving to be an enlightening experience. His first impression of her had been of a quiet, submissive mouse intent on serving a Dominant, but that was far from who she was. There was an edge of sass and just a touch of a bratty attitude when she let her guard down. Her sense of humor was wicked, sometimes cutting, and she possessed a need to please that encompassed both of her personas.
He'd believed she wouldn't be able to handle his sadism, yet given the chance, she'd knocked him on his ass with her enthusiasm towards scenes she knew would cause her pain. While he hadn't hit the peak of what he was capable of, she wasn't backing away from the tastes he gave her—no, indeed, she took every last drop and knelt at his feet begging for more.
It just went to show that books truly couldn't be judged by their covers.
On the drive to the hospital, he'd explained why they were visiting Bodie and Braun. No coddling her, no half-truths or white lies. He'd deliberately waited until they'd been in the truck before telling her, unwilling to sully the memories they'd made that morning with bad news. Selfish, yes, he admitted that, but he had too few wonderful memories to hold onto. He wanted to remember this morning with pleasure for the rest of his life.
Cleaning her up, making her drink a bottle of water, then simply holding her for a few minutes before he sent her off for a shower while he made breakfast...all simple, mundane events for most people, he imagined. Just part of their day to day lives. But for him...it felt as though he was choosing the perfect bricks to build his future, setting them precisely into place and cementing them in.
He hadn't dared get in the shower with her—especially not after she threatened to dye his hair electric blue and fill his truck with glitter if his cock so much as twitched with the notion of attempting a coup on her body. The prospect of sporting blue hair didn't deter him—he'd risk her wrath to feel her cunt clenching down on him again—but a man didn't gamble with the sanctity of his truck.
Jasper turned to look at her as she sat on the bench behind him, bundled up in her jacket. The weather had turned cool again, and his kitten felt the cold. As she sorted through emails on her phone, her nose and cheeks were pink with the chill. She was adorable, snuggled into the hat and scarf he'd borrowed from Braun's house. She clutched her laptop bag close, glaring at anyone who dared to walk near her.
She hadn't reacted the way he thought she would at the news of Bodie's pregnancy. There'd been genuine tears of happiness in her eyes when he told her, and she'd pressed her hands together as though they alone could contain her joy. That happiness died once he told her the rest, but rather than crying and bemoaning the fates for their part in it, she'd tossed her hair over her shoulder as she straightened them, looked him dead in the eye, and told him to put his foot on the gas and get them to the hospital.
"Our friends need us, Jasper. Go faster."
She was just incredible. Ready to fight to get their friends through this nightmare.
It was becoming easier to set aside his misgivings and fall into love.
"You've lost your damn mind." Connie's voice rang out. "Why the hell are you standing out here in the cold rather than taking your su—your girlfriend," she corrected smoothly, "inside where it's warm and she can keep all her damn digits."
"Good morning to you, too. Anarchy's a little apprehensive about going inside, so we decided to wait here for you instead." He held his hand out to Anarchy, smiled when her hand slipped into his. "Might as well provide a united front. Strength in numbers, right?"
Lifting the strap of her purse over her shoulder, Connie shook her head. "We're visiting a patient, Jasper. Not scaling war against the medical profession. Come on, let's go in before Anarchy's lips turn blue. That wind is bitter today."
Jasper hesitated for a second before following his friend through the automated doors, leading Anarchy into the flow of people passing in and out. His short stint as an EMT had given him more than enough reasons to avoid hospitals at all costs—unless the important people in his life needed him.
Connie marched up to the front desk and beat a man in a suit to the head of the line. When his face darkened with temper, Jasper braced to square up to the dick, but he'd forgotten how formidable the psychologist could be when threatened. She was a Mistress because she'd earned the title, and she proved her worth now.
Keeping Anarchy shielded behind him, Jasper tried not to smile as the guy—obviously stressed, tired, and an asshole—gave a good attempt at pushing Connie aside by ramming his hip into her hard enough to knock her off-balance. It took her little more than a second to recover from the hip bump, then she jammed the short heel of her right boot sharply into the top of his leather shoe, all while wearing a big fucking smile.
When the guy yelped and tried to move his foot, Connie applied more pressure, leaning into him while taking hold of his hand—more specifically, his pinky finger—and bending it backward until his shoulders bowed and he dropped his head forward.
While the receptionist watched with wide eyes, her finger poised above the security button, Connie murmured something in his ear, then released both his finger and his foot, and reached into her jacket pocket for a card. Slipping it into his hand, she patted his arm before speaking quietly to the stunned woman manning the desk.
