Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
ROMAN
“Have you thought about doing something with your art?” Jesse asks, perched on my thigh, chin resting on my shoulder as he watches me work on a cluster of roses.
I glance at him, watching him as he plays with the sleeves of the black hoodie he has on.
My black hoodie.
He’s been doing that a lot during the break—casually wearing my clothes—and I can’t fucking get enough of it.
We’ve been in a bubble the whole Christmas break, gravitating around each other more than ever.
Laura has done everything she can to bring us all together as a family during the holidays, sitting us all down for dinner or for a movie.
She’s kind and very thoughtful, but my dad and I stopped being a family a long time ago.
He’s good at hiding it in front of others, but after so many years, I can read him better than anyone.
He tolerates my presence for her sake, but he doesn’t want me in those family dinners. His expression always tightens every time Laura speaks to me, or Jesse smiles at me.
He doesn’t want me included. He doesn’t want me tainting his new family.
Looking at Jesse, I hate the insidious voice at the back of my mind that whispers that he might be right.
What the fuck am I doing touching him, feeling him, feeding on his warmth and light?
And why is he letting me?
Why is he always seeking me out, wanting me to hold him, to kiss him?
Why does he look at me like I matter?
I brush a kiss on his temple and his blue eyes sparkle when he looks at me.
I fucking love him in black.
“I have,” I simply say in answer to his question.
He blinks at me and I have to fight to smother a laugh. I have never felt this light in my whole life.
“Are you going to elaborate?”
“I might be persuaded.”
The look he gives me shoots fire into my veins, but my mind threatens to go completely offline when he stands up and straddles me.
He tilts his hips, rubbing his groin against mine, and I groan when I feel his already half-hard dick. My hands grip his waist to still his movements, and how can someone who looks like a damn angel smile like an imp, I’ll never know.
“Everyone’s home, and the door is unlocked,” I manage to say with great difficulty, because I can barely think with him like this.
He leans forward and sucks a small kiss under my jaw that makes me grip him even tighter.
“I’m not doing anything. Just being friendly and stepbrotherly,” he whispers, his breath catching when I reach between his legs to briefly palm his rapidly-filling cock.
“Yeah, you feel really friendly and stepbrotherly,” I mutter in his ear, and I feel him trembling on my lap.
He’s been fucking insatiable ever since that day in the hallway, a day that’s seared into my mind; the way he looked, caged in against the wall, his wet hair dark gold, his eyes glazed.
Naked. Hard. Beautiful.
He looked so fucking beautiful, and the fact that I am the first who’s ever seen him like this, tasted him, touched him, makes me crave him to the point of obsession.
An obsession that builds up every time I drown in his soft whimpers, every time his body molds to mine, melting in my hands, every time we come on each other and I have to resist the urge to rub my cum on him.
And having him grinding on my lap right now is doing nothing to help with my restraint.
“As much as I’d want nothing more to pull you out and have you fuck my fist, we should wait until tonight, baby,” I say, even as my thumbs dig into his hipbones.
He sighs, the sound so dejected it’s impossible not to smile.
“You’re right. Though it’s your fault, you know.”
“How is it my fault?”
“You made me need you all the damn time.”
His quiet words wash over me, and his clear, blue eyes look almost vulnerable as he peers at me.
“It’s only fair, Blue.” I reach up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “You made me need you first.”
Something passes between us in the soft, quiet moment, something neither of us even fully understands. But it’s there, floating in the space between our bodies, beating in tandem with our hearts. Rough, raw, new, but there.
It terrifies me so much I can’t breathe.
“So, about that persuading,” he mumbles with a smile and a blush, “how about a kiss for your answer?”
“Give it to me.”
And he does, kissing me with his whole body, and pulling away way too soon.
I make a sound of protest when he gets up and Jesse chuckles as he goes to sit cross-legged on my bed.
“Hey, you wanted the respectable distance.”
“It doesn’t mean I don’t hate it.”
He hides his smile into my black hoodie and it’s never been harder, keeping myself seated on this chair instead of reaching for him.
“Stop distracting me and tell me.”
For a moment, I hesitate. I’ve never told anyone about this, thoughts of not being good enough to do this always at the forefront of my mind.
But looking at Jesse, smiling at me so expectantly, makes me want to share it with him. Just him.
“I might have sent a portfolio of my designs to a few tattoo shops in the city.”
His eyes widen, before his face splits into a grin.
“Seriously?”
I nod at him, something like tentative excitement fizzing in my stomach.
“Yeah, I thought I’d try for an apprenticeship.”
Despite the excitement, doubt still creeps in through the crevices, sitting heavy on my chest, waiting, always waiting.
I don’t even realize I have dropped my gaze until a pair of warm, soft hands is cupping my face and tilting it up, until light blue is all I see.
“This is so fucking cool, Ro! There’s no way you won’t get it.” His smile turns so soft my throat burns. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
No, I don’t. But hearing it from him, almost makes me want to believe it.
He releases my face and I already miss the warmth.
“Wow, a tattoo artist, huh?” He sits again on the edge of the bed, bobbing his head absent-mindedly. “It would totally suit you.”
My lips twitch with a smile. He is so cute when he’s serious.
“It would?”
“Yeah. For one, your drawings are awesome. They should definitely be immortalized. And also, I can see you all dark and broody, tattoo gun in hand, music blaring in your ears.”
Yeah, he’s too far away.
He yelps when I grab his wrist and pull him again on my lap, securing one arm around his waist.
Much better.
“Broody?”
He nudges me with his elbow.
“What, you were broody when we met. You almost bit my head off the day my mom and I moved in, admit it.”
His tone is light, but I know how much he wanted us to get along from the start.
“You’re right, Blue. It was a shitty day and I wanted to forget about the whole moving-in thing.
” I pause, bracing for my next words. “It was the same day my mom left all those years ago.” And my dad chose that particular day for his new beginning.
He could have done it any other day but he didn’t. The perfect clean slate.
Jesse sucks in a breath, his fingers coming up to fist the short hair at my nape, the touch grounding and comforting.
“I’m so sorry, Roman. I didn’t know.”
I simply smile in answer, pressing harder against his touch, a faint shiver running through me when he scrapes his nails against my skin.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me to go to hell.”
“Not possible,” I mumble, all tension leaving my body.
His eyes twinkle in my semi-lit room.
“Because I wore you down.”
“Yeah, I didn’t stand a chance.”
“What was it that did the trick?” he asks, leaning so close that all I can smell is the caramel and vanilla of his hair as it falls on one side like a golden curtain. “Was it the ‘heys,’ the friendship promise, or me bullying you into sharing your chocolate cereal?”
You saw me when no one else did.
“Definitely the bullying.”
He narrows his eyes at me, but he immediately melts when I peck his lips with a smile.
Jesse peers into my eyes for a few quiet moments, before he rests his forehead on mine and his eyes slip shut.
“I’m glad I met you, Roman.”
“I’m glad I met you too, Jesse.”
More than you can possibly know.