Chapter 11 #2
“Okay, well.” I tilted my chin up just slightly—a challenge, syrup running sweet through my veins. “Then how did you mean it?”
“Like this.” His fingers grasped my face and he kissed me—urgent and sure, an answer to a different question than the one I’d asked.
I fisted his sweater and pressed back, my elbow catching on something.
Coat rack. Fabric fluttered to the floor, a laugh trapped between our mouths, breathless disbelief that crackled like static, like an underground wire set alight.
I gripped his waist, fingers digging in. “Bedroom?”
“Yeah,” he said and kissed me again, messy, his hands light on my face—better than air, better than anything.
Every thought was lost to the breath we shared, to the wet glide of our mouths.
Not sure who moved first, me pushing or Jesse pulling, half-stumbling through his living room.
Shoes off, discarded like waypoints, then his sweater hit the floor.
My shirt slid down my arms one button at a time, his knuckles brushing skin, while I got a hand under his T-shirt and followed the warm line of his spine up, fingers fanning out between his shoulder blades to drag him back in.
“Just so we’re clear…” I nipped on his bottom lip, then caught it for a quick kiss. “You’re not slipping a bill into my jeans.”
His laugh rumbled low, fingers hooked into my waistband to tug me along. “Good. Only carry plastic these days.”
“Huh.” I skated a palm down the subtle bumps of his abs. “Was hoping for latex, actually.”
“That can be arranged.” He backed through the doorway and drew me with him.
Flick of a switch, and the space was flooded in soft, warm lamplight that framed the headboard of his bed.
Navy sheets were rumpled as if he’d left in a hurry, dark gray curtains drawn, and the nightstand was cluttered with earplugs, a face-down paperback, and a coiled phone charger—quick-blink impressions before we collided near the edge of the mattress. Our laughter broke like sparks.
“Nice light.” I tucked a smile against the corner of his mouth. “It’s like some fancy hotel room.”
It wasn’t, though. This was Jesse’s place, his bedroom. We could have come here last time—it wasn’t much farther than my hotel had been. But he hadn’t offered, which, obviously. Tonight, he had.
“Installed it with a friend,” he said, turning his head just enough to catch my lips. “I can turn it off?”
“No, it’s nice. I can actually see you this time.” I’d meant it as a light throwback to our first night, all shadows between strangers. Even then, something about him had clicked—his quick wit, the way he looked at me.
Something about it must have tilted more serious than I’d intended, though. Jesse caught my chin, eyes suddenly heavy. “Hey. Still sure?”
I met his gaze, reality pressing in around the edges of the room. But, no. Tomorrow could wait—the hospital and who we were, what this meant.
Tonight was ours.
“Yes.” I let it sit for a beat. “I want you, okay? I did that first night, and I do now.”
“Thank God,” he murmured and kissed me again, softer now, almost gentle, his fingers fumbling at the button of my jeans.
I grabbed for his tee and tugged it up, our bodies separating briefly to get it off and throw it aside, somewhere, didn’t matter.
All that mattered was the way we came back together, how he cupped me through my jeans just as his mouth found my throat, and oh, fuck—scrape of stubble that made me gasp.
Jesus. He was all skin and golden light.
I pushed at his chest, and he resisted for just a moment, the corners of his mouth hitching up.
Then he fell back onto the bed, catching himself on his elbows.
I followed him down and straddled his thighs, rolled my hips once—jean zippers catching in a slow grind that scattered stardust across my mind and made him arch up into me, his head thrown back against the sheets.
Gorgeous, fuck. I pinned his wrists to the mattress and leaned down until our noses touched.
“Jesse.”
He made a loosely inquisitive noise and blinked up at me, eyes gone liquid-dark. A siren wailed somewhere in the distance, but here in his bedroom, the world had narrowed to just the two of us.
“What do you want?”
“No.” He freed his wrists so he could lace our hands, his fingers slotting into the gaps between mine. “What do you want?”
I ground down, sucked in a quick, harsh breath at how I could feel him hard even through two layers of denim. Stretched out under me, he made for a wet dream—more lean than broad, dark hair messed up already, sharply defined features and a soft mouth. “I asked first,” I said.
“Yeah.” His lips curved into a grin. “But I called the shots last time.”
“That was hot.”
For a beat, he stared up at me—and then, with a sudden heave, he rolled us over and settled between my thighs, caging me underneath the length of his body.
One hand splayed flat next to my head, the other gripping my shoulder.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice the same shade of gold as the gentle wash of light across his face. “What was it that you liked?”
You.
True. But it’d been more than that.
“I just…” I skimmed a palm down the ripples of his spine. “I’d never been a sure thing before, I guess. Not really one for casual hookups either.”
“Sure had me fooled,” he muttered—amused, not reproachful.
I exhaled a chuckle. “Yeah, well. I was looking for a new me that night.”
Jesse’s eyes turned gentle. He stayed quiet as if waiting for more, perched above me, light playing along his jawline and the gentle swell of his biceps.
“But—” I glanced away and shook my head, hair whispering against the sheets. “Turns out that I still brought myself to New York.”
“Hey.” He pressed down, voice gone soft and low. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I like you so much.
The thought flared like a starburst, sudden and too fucking bright.
I inhaled and realized I needed to answer him, fumbled for words that didn’t give me away.
“Not like… I don’t know. Just, like—I kind of spent most of my life in relationships, so that’s mostly what I know.
” Did that even make sense? I wasn’t sure.
Wasn’t sure of anything other than his solid weight above me.
“Too bad my taste in boyfriends trends toward assholes.”
“Their loss,” he said, suddenly fierce, fingers still curled around my shoulders.
Was it?
I tried for a smile. “Well, hey. Which is all just to say that when we met—I’d never done anything like that before.”
His mouth quirked into a wry grin. “Pose as a hooker?”
“That, too.” I paused. “But, yeah. Just—you probably have triple my numbers.”
“Got a few years on you, too.”
Six or so? I shook my head. “Hardly enough to matter.”
Briefly, silence stretched like something tangible between us, heavy with what we both knew—the age gap wasn’t the problem here. Jesus, how had this dipped into such serious waters?
“Sorry.” I fanned my fingers out against the small of his back. “Not sure how we ended up here. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”
“Mood’s not ruined.” He dipped to kiss the hollow of my throat, shifting his hips to make the point that—yeah, God.
Still hard. Too many clothes. His teeth scraped lightly over my Adam’s apple, then higher, mapping the line of my jaw, his voice a low murmur.
“Let me take care of you, Finn. What do you want?”
Oh.
“Just like this.” I tipped my head into the cool sheets and smiled up at him, liquid warmth pooling heavy in my stomach. “With you on top of me. Fuck me slow and good. If you want?”
“If I…? Finn.” The way he said my name, low and almost reverent, sparked like lightning under my skin.
He leaned down and tangled a hand in my hair, so close that all detail blurred.
“You’ve no fucking idea how—” He stopped, restarted.
“I don’t think you really understand just how beautiful you are. ”
He’d called me that before—but we’d been strangers then. Now it hit me differently, slid into the gaps between my ribs as though it wanted to take up permanent residence.
I swallowed. “No need to flatter me. I’m already in your bed, aren’t I?”
“That’s not why.” The words were rough, firm, segued straight into a kiss so thorough it made all thoughts fall away.
When he pulled back, it was to mouth a path down my throat and chest, lingering for a sucking bite near my hip bone before he shoved at my jeans.
I raised my hips so he could pull them down along with my boxer briefs.
Then he sat back on his haunches and just… looked.
I wasn’t shy about my body—knew what I looked like, knew I could get attention if I wanted it. I just couldn’t make them stay. But the way Jesse watched me sent heat creeping up my neck.
“A picture would last longer.” I tried for an easy grin and felt it tipping into shy.
“Actually, no. There’s research—taking pictures makes your brain lazy.” He reached out to lightly run his nails up the inside of my thigh. “It’s like, cool, tech’s got this, I can clock out.”
I huffed out a slightly breathy laugh. “So you’re just gonna stare?”
“While I’m allowed? Yeah. I want to remember this.” Something flickered across his face and was gone. “Now, you sure—”
“Yes,” I interrupted.
His eyes creased in a smile. “Good.”
He shifted just far enough away to reach into the nightstand, rummaging blindly for lube and a box of condoms, already open.
Which… Huh. From what I’d heard, most guys in a place like New York skipped them now, but Jesse hadn’t even questioned it that first night.
Habit, maybe. A doctor’s mindset. The point was that if I hadn’t been at that bar tonight…
Just—I wasn’t the first guy he’d brought home, and I wouldn’t be the last either. That was fine.
It had to be fine.
“Seems you’re well prepared for overnight guests.” I’d meant it as a joke, but something tender slid underneath, vulnerable. No way to take it back, not with the way his attention flicked to my face.