Chapter 17
Wes
I’m itching to hold Jett’s hand as his niece and nephew go door-to-door trick-or-treating, but he’s made it clear to his family that we’re only friends.
Does it sting a little? Yeah. But I get it.
We haven’t discussed how to approach whatever we have in front of others. I have plans to remedy that tonight.
I bump his shoulder. “You look like you have jaundice,” I tease. His niece tried to make him look like Pooh Bear, but his face is painted only yellow, with a black dot at the tip of his nose.
He snorts a laugh. “And you look like a tiger with jaundice whose face is melting off.”
I throw back my head and cackle. “Touché.”
People who pass by look at us strangely, trying to figure out what the hell we are.
“Hey,” Jett says. “Thanks for doing this. And… for liking my family.”
“Your family is amazing, man. They’re a blast and so nice.”
He looks thoughtful, with a small smile on his lips, as he watches the kids run to the next house. “They really are. I love them so much.”
There are many facets to Jett, but I haven’t seen this one. Love and tenderness. It warms me because family is everything. They’re people you can trust and who love you back unconditionally. I really like this side of him.
I try to hide the surprise on my face when Jett slides his hand into mine and weaves our fingers together.
It’s such a small gesture, but it’s a big deal for him.
I can tell. It’s also a huge sign of his feelings for me.
My heart tightens, and my stomach dips at his openness.
Instead of saying anything, I smile and squeeze his hand.
“I told Janelle,” he says.
Now my heart’s really beating the fuck out of my chest. What does that mean? “Yeah? I guess she’s fine with it.”
“She likes you. I… like you.”
“Aww, you like me?” I rest my head on his shoulder and bat my eyelashes at him.
He chuckles. “Dork.”
“Seriously, I like you, too.”
Jett’s voice dips. “Wes?”
“Yep?”
“I’m sorry I was such a…”
“Dick? Jerk? Mean?” I bump his shoulder again and wink.
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay. I know the real you now.”
He frowns and watches his family. “I… hope I didn’t ruin your vision of me too much.”
I let go of his hand and tug him to stop and face me.
“Do I see you differently? Yeah, I do. We had a rough start, but I think I kept you as this untouchable person in my head for so long. It’s easy to forget someone like you is human, you know?
Human, with thoughts, emotions, pain, happiness…
You’re not just a running machine. You’re not perfect, and that’s okay.
Perfectly okay. What I’m getting at is that I like this version of Jett a lot. More than I thought possible.”
He looks away, his mouth trembling slightly. “I’m so far from perfect.”
“Everyone’s imperfect, babe.”
“Some more than others.”
I shrug. “True, but that’s not you. All I see is someone who adores his family, who’s a great coach, who’s laughing and smiling more, and…” I lean forward to whisper in his ear, “Who’s hot as fuck.”
His smile is soft and small, his eyes watch me like he doesn’t believe me. “I’ll take it. Now, how do you know I’m a good coach?”
I stand back, take his hand again, and walk faster to catch up with his family. “Some of the runners have been by to see me and talk about you. You’re tough, but fair. You know your stuff. It’s exactly how a coach should be.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks for that.”
I lift his hand and kiss the back.
“Uncle Jared! Uncle Jared!” The kids run up to us, looking utterly ridiculous with those huge, bouncing costumes. “Look at all the candy!”
We peek into the buckets, oohing and awwing.
“I think it’s time we wrap this up, kiddos,” Owen says, lifting a yawning Mia into his arms.
After Jett’s family headed to their rooms, and we washed off all the face paint, we curled against each other in bed. We’re in the spare bedroom in the basement, which is sparsely furnished and decorated. It feels as temporary as his apartment.
My nose is pressed against his throat, inhaling him, sliding my hand under his T-shirt with my palm pressing against his smooth, warm skin.
“Why do you smell so good?” I ask.
“I like the way you smell, too.”
Jett rolls over to face me, also sliding his hand under my shirt, resting it on my back. “Thanks for coming.”
“I’m glad I did. It’s been fun.”
He fingers my long bangs, pulling back those that have spilled into my face. His soulful eyes watch me as if he wants to say something, but nothing comes out of his mouth, so I do it for him.
“I like this. You and me.”
He sighs, but a small smile plays on his lips. “You’re so much bolder and braver than I am. You run at life, while I run from it.”
“Who says you’re not brave? You? I don’t see anyone else calling you a coward.”
“We’re always hardest on ourselves.”
I nod and drag my knuckles across his cheek.
It’s bristly from his scruff. Who knew I’d like touching it on another man.
“Sometimes. I could be hard on myself when I was competing in college. The pressure. The stress. Always striving to do the best you can. I had a lot of pressure, too, not just for myself, but for my family. They’d never demand that I give up everything so that I could win.
They were always supportive, but racing was my ticket to getting a degree and a good job.
It gave me a full athletic scholarship. If I weren’t good at running, I wouldn’t be here right now.
I’d still be stuck in Cannon Beach, working at a convenience store or waiting tables.
I love it there so much, and there’s nothing wrong with those jobs, but I wanted more for myself.
I was the first in my family to graduate from college.
God, they were so proud, especially my mom.
She lost her chance at college when she became pregnant with me.
” I suck in my lips and shrug. “Sorry, I tend to get chatty when I’m feeling stuff. ”
“I know you do. It’s what I like about you. Your family sounds amazing.”
I slip my knee between his thick, solid thighs and scoot closer. “They are. So is yours.”
A shadow spreads across his face. “Yeah, not so much my parents. Especially my dad.”
“Was he hard on you?”
“You could say that.”
My stomach dips with his honesty. I’ve been wanting to learn more about him, but he always has this invisible barrier up between us that you can feel.
“Talk to me,” I say when he goes silent.
He closes his eyes and presses his face between the crook of my neck and shoulder. I rub his back and kiss his head.
“Dad is a… hard man,” he starts and pauses again.
“I get it. My grandparents came here from the Ivory Coast for a better life, but it was difficult. Generational trauma, I think they call it. They had my dad and pushed him so hard to succeed out of fear that he’d fail.
In turn, he pushed me. Pushed me so hard that…
” Jett plays with my T-shirt, his hot breath on my skin growing faster.
“As soon as he learned how fast I was at running, everything in my life revolved around it. Every single thing. From what I ate to how I lived. No downtime, no hanging out with friends, drinking, no spring break at the beach. I lived and breathed running.”
“Jesus,” I say. A picture starts forming in my mind about what it’s like to be an athlete pushing themselves hard enough to reach the Olympics, the pinnacle of achievement.
Those men and women make it look almost easy, and they appear so eager.
You don’t see what they really go through, the damage to their bodies and minds.
“It was the constant pressure to live up to his standards,” he continues.
“No, not standards. Demands. All I could think about was success. Never fail. What would my grandparents think if I did, after all they went through to better our lives? When I lost a race, I failed them.” His voice breaks. “That’s what he told me, anyway.”
I kiss his head again and hold him tighter. “God, that sounds horrible. I’m so sorry. That’s too much for a child, let alone an adult. How are things now between you and him?”
He simply shrugs. I’ll take that as not good.
Jett says nothing else, and something tells me not to prod him about it. He gave me a little bit about himself, and that’s enough. I’m confident that once we grow closer, he’ll open up more.
“Jett, you still awake?”
“Yeah.”
“As I said, I really like where this is going, and I really like you.” Usually, I’m bold and just ask, but he’s being vulnerable, and I’m still a little uncertain.
Not about him in my life, but about the direction we’re headed in or if we’re standing still.
Instead, I suck it up and just say it. “I want more, Jett. So much more. Like more than just sex. I really want to get serious with you. Start a relationship. You have so many different sides to you. I want to wake up next to you tomorrow, and each day after, to discover something new about you. Because every time I do, I really like what I see.”
He pulls back to look at me, his eyes wide with surprise. “You… want to be boyfriends?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Jett cups my face and presses his lips to mine. The kiss isn’t as hungry as it usually is. It’s slow, lazy, and full of tongue. It doesn’t take me long to grow hard, and I feel him swell against me, too.
“I want to try sex when we get back… if you want,” I say when we come up for air.
He lifts an eyebrow, his eyes dazed. “Sex?”
“Yes. You know… all-the-way kinda sex.”
He smiles so sweetly. “Yeah, we can do that.”
Feeling more confident, I sit up, push Jett onto his back, and straddle him. My hands rest on either side of his head as I smile down at him. His are on my hips. “Got lube around here?”
He juts his chin at the nightstand. “I think there’s still some in there. We gotta be quiet though.”
“Of course,” I say, climbing over him to pull open the drawer and reach for the lube. When I find it, I drop it on the bed and pull out my cock from my underwear. He watches me, then pulls his out, too.
I grab the bottle and squirt oil into my hand, then toss it somewhere. I wince when it hits the floor a little too loudly. “Sorry,” I whisper.
His smile is crooked as he slowly shakes his head. “I’m starting to think that quiet and you aren’t friends.”
I stick my tongue out at him, and when I fist our lengths together, it cuts off his laugh. He groans, closing his eyes as I start stroking us, slowly at first.
I lean forward, rest my head against his, and close my eyes.
We both breathe heavily, but we don’t kiss, focusing on the budding pressure and friction of our cocks and my hand.
Surprisingly, what gets me harder and more turned on is that Jett’s now mine.
Sex just feels different when you’ve committed to someone.
To him. He feels right. Wanting him is easy.
He meets my stroke with an upward thrust.
“Fuck, yeah…” I rasp. “God, why does this feel so fucking good?”
He only grunts, his fingers pressing deeply into my sides.
“Your dick against mine… It’s hot as hell. I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”
Jett presses his hand to my back, sits up, and in one swift movement, I’m on my back, and he’s the one who’s taken over the rubbing. “My hands are bigger,” he pants.
“That’s not all that’s bigger.”
“Jesus, your mouth. Gonna shut you up.”
When he swipes his thumb over our leaking heads, my toes curl, and my eyes flutter closed in bliss. His mouth is back on mine, and he’s forcefully shoving his tongue inside. I suck on it and thrust as fast as I can to keep up with his movements.
My body burns as I break out in goosebumps. I’m so fucking close. I hold the sides of his head and suck on his bottom lip as I explode, my back arching off the bed and groaning into his mouth.
Jett’s struggling too, chanting shit over and over until I feel his hot cum spatter on me, mingling with mine.
He lets go of our softening cocks and falls on top of me, his weight heavy but comforting. I stroke his clammy back and bite his shoulder.
“Ow,” he mumbles in my throat. I do it again, then lick away the sting. “Brat,” he chuckles.
I dig my nails into the back of his head and pull him tighter. We hold each other like that until our breathing and hearts calm down. I’m so comfortable and relaxed, I don’t want to move. He feels perfect against me.
Before we’re glued to each other, Jett climbs out of the bed and walks into the bathroom. I’m on my side with my hands tucked under my cheek as I watch his perfectly round bubble ass. Fuck, he’s got a gorgeous body.
And he’s mine.
Mine.
The thought of having Jett as a boyfriend sends tingles coursing through me in the best way. I smile at that.
He’s mine.
Jett returns with hot washcloths, and we quickly clean up and curl back into each other in bed.
His fingers are back in my hair again, smiling wistfully and satiated. “You’re pretty hot and sexy for a dude-bro,” he says.
I snort a laugh. “So are you, for a broody ass. Sexy broody ass.”
“Let’s do it when we get back. Let’s have sex.”
I pretend I’m nonchalant about it; meanwhile, my insides are rioting with excitement and a little fear. It’s only of the unknown, not because of Jett. “Yeah, sounds good to me. I’d also like to take you out on a date. Can we do that?”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. I think it’s only proper we have a real date before you take my ass to pound town.”
“Fuck, Wes. ‘Pound town?’ You’re such a juvenile.”
“Yeah, but you’re laughing.”
“You got me there.”
“I can’t wait,” I whisper.
“Me neither,” he yawns, relaxing against me.
I kiss his head and close my eyes, feeling the weight of our relationship, and we’re going to have sex soon. It’s heavy. It’s real. It’s different. And different is exactly what I need.
“Can’t wait…” I whisper again to a lightly snoring Jett.