8. Chapter 8
eight
~ Jasper ~
W e stopped on our way back to Beckett’s apartment to pick up an early dinner of burger and fries.
He had even talked me into a chocolate milkshake, which I sipped happily while we walked.
Conversation flowed naturally, and we talked about inconsequential things as we rode the elevator to the thirty-eighth floor of his building.
Entering his corner apartment, my immediate thought was that it absolutely matched the man I had come to know.
A little messy, a little chaotic, but filled with personality.
A stack of unopened mail had been piled onto the built-in counter in the entryway, while three pairs of shoes littered the floor under the shelving.
The door to the laundry room stood open, giving me a clear view of the overflowing basket beside the washer, and a couple of empty beer bottles occupied the counter in the galley kitchen.
The space didn’t appear dirty or neglected, though.
Just…lived in.
A ribbon of vertical windows had been set into the exterior walls, and the abundance of natural light that spilled into the apartment made it feel open and airy.
Beckett had taken a minimalistic approach when it came to furnishing and decorating, with only an L-shaped sectional and a wall-mounted television in the living room.
No potted plants. No framed art on the walls.
Not even a decorative pillow.
Just an untidily folded fleece blanket and a purple area rug that matched nothing else in the room.
Everything about the apartment was so unapologetically him, and I couldn’t help but smile as I took it all in.
I also appreciated that he seemed so at ease with me being there.
He didn’t act like my presence was a bother or an invasion.
In fact, I got the impression that I could have emptied his fridge and rearranged his furniture, and he wouldn’t even flinch.
We ate our meal at a circular table in the dining room, surrounded by a spectacular view of the Dallas skyline.
Beckett told me a little more about growing up in Tampa.
Apparently, he had been an only child like me, and he spoke fondly of his parents, who still lived in Florida.
And like the good son he was, he tried to make it out there at least twice a year to visit them.
When we finished, I helped him clear away the remnants of our meal, then we retreated to the living room to settle down on the suede sofa.
Not on opposite ends.
Not with a cushion between us.
We sat side by side, shoulders touching, legs brushing together, while Beckett scrolled through one of his streaming channels.
“What are we thinking?” he asked.
“Comedy? Drama? Mindless action flick with a questionable plot but badass fight scenes?”
“The last one,” I said, placing my hand over my mouth to stifle a yawn.
“I don’t want to think.”
“Say less. I’ve got you.”
He threw on a movie I hadn’t seen, but judging by the giant ape in the opening frame, it definitely checked all the boxes.
Even the loud music and multiple explosions couldn’t compete with only three hours of sleep and overstimulation, though.
By the mid-point of the movie, I couldn’t stop yawning, and every blink was a little slower, a little longer.
Beckett didn’t ask if I was okay, or suggest we reschedule our impromptu movie night.
He just slid his arm behind my back, encouraging me to lean into him.
Too tired to overthink or argue, I rested my head on his shoulder and sighed as I sank into his embrace.
God, he was so warm, and he smelled like home—soft like fresh laundry with a hint of spicy drama.
It reminded me of being at SafeHouse.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but when I came to, the movie had ended, the sun had set, and I had made Jasper my own personal bolster.
Draped over his chest with my arm stretched across his stomach, I had practically crawled on top of him in my sleep.
And he had seemingly made no move to stop me.
At least I hadn’t drooled on him.
Sitting up, I pushed my hair out of my face and gave him an apologetic grin.
“What time is it?”
“A little after nine.”
“Oh, no. Are you serious?” My pulse sped as the heat of embarrassment crept up my neck.
“I slept for four hours?”
“You clearly needed it. In fact, I’m kind of reluctant to let you go home.”
“No, no.” I held a hand up and shook my head.
“I’m okay now. I promise.”
A slow, devilish smile stretched his lips.
“I never said you weren’t. I just said I was reluctant to let you leave.” Sliding closer, he tucked a strand a hair behind my ear, then left his hand there to cradle my cheek.
“Stay, Jazz.”
It would be disingenuous to say I hadn’t considered this when I had agreed to dinner at his place.
Maybe not getting naked with him specifically, but definitely somewhere adjacent.
I wanted it. Wanted him .
I didn’t even have to ask for it, either.
All I had to do was accept.
Tilting my head, I pressed into his hand and nuzzled against his palm.
“I will stay, but I’m going to be weird and awkward about it. I just need you to know that now.”
“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.”
We both laughed, easing the pressure so I no longer felt like my soul might vibrate out of my body.
“In that case, would it be okay if I jumped into the shower?”
Sadly, I didn’t mean it as an invitation, and I wasn’t trying to seduce him.
I just needed a moment to myself and some hot water to wash away the lingering self-doubt.
But with Beckett, I didn’t worry about rejection, or that I had just ruined everything by asking.
He didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. Come on, I’ll show you where everything is. Do you need a change of clothes?”
I didn’t know his history.
Maybe he had always been single.
Maybe he’d had a couple of serious relationships.
He could be divorced thrice over for all I knew, and I couldn’t have cared less.
In fact, all I felt was gratitude to whoever had let him go so I could find him.
“A change of clothes would be great. Thank you.”
He helped me up from the sectional and led me past the kitchen to his bedroom.
“Bathroom is this way. Feel free to use whatever you want.”
Unlike most apartment bedrooms, his boasted two external walls, both lined with the same ribbon windows as the living room.
City lights spilled through the uncovered glass, gleaming off the slatted headboard of the king-sized bed and casting shadows across the beige comforter.
While he continued into the en suite, I stopped in front of the windows and stared out at the skyline.
I didn’t regret my move to the suburbs.
The chaos and noise of the city had always been too much for me.
I did miss the view, though.
“Jazz? Everything okay?”
I smiled, but I didn’t turn to look at him.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Coming to stand behind me, he placed his hands on my hips and rested his chin on my shoulder.
“Yeah, it’s one of the main reasons I chose this building. There’s something peaceful about being so high above the city.”
He turned his head, his lips brushing the side of my neck, and I responded with a full-body shiver.
“I know what you mean.”
Strong hands dipped beneath the hem of my shirt and smoothed up my abdomen, leaving a trail of fire and need in their wake.
“Do you still want that shower?”
I dropped my head and groaned when his warm breath fanned across my ear.
“This is coercion.”
Beckett chuckled as he tightened his arms, altering our positions so that my backside pressed against his groin.
“That’s a little harsh. I was thinking more like persuasion.”
Oh, I certainly felt persuaded.
“It’s cheating. That’s what it is.”
“I want you, Jazz,” he said, dropping the pretense.
With one hand still pressed to my stomach, he dragged the other over my waistband and cupped my erection through the denim.
“I know you want me, too.”
I jerked in his arms, my hips thrusting without permission as I pressed into his palm, seeking more friction.
“I do,” I admitted. “I’m just nervous.”
He trailed kisses down my throat and nipped the sensitive skin at the apex of my shoulder.
“Just say yes. I’ll take care of everything else.”
Pushing out of his arms, I spun around to face him, captivated by the way the prism of lights reflected in his heated gaze.
“Yes. Of course it’s yes. I want—”
My words ended abruptly, and my back thudded against the window he slanted our mouths together in a blistering kiss.
Gone was the gentle, passive man from my office who held onto his control by sheer will.
This was Beckett, unfettered and unfiltered, and I couldn’t get enough.
His broad frame pressed against me, his weight anchoring me in place as our mouths crashed together.
I gasped, trying to catch my breath, then moaned when his tongue plunged between my lips.
I had been kissed before, but never like this.
Never with so much need.
He didn’t ask permission or make allowances.
He took what he wanted, sucking at my lips and pillaging the depths of my mouth until I was trembling and breathless.
We didn’t undress each other.
Nothing so tame as that.
We pulled and tore at the fabric with feral, uncoordinated movements, but the results were the same, and a deep groan burst from my lips when his naked body pressed against mine.
I pawed at him, kneading the hard, corded muscles in his arms and shoulders, needing to feel more of him, desperate to be even closer.
In all my life, I had never felt so out of control, so completely undone.
I didn’t care about image or propriety.
I didn’t worry about being enough or too much.
I just wanted more of him.
Beckett spun me around again, pressing me against the windowpanes as he blanketed my back, the heat of his body enveloping me and driving my need higher.
I braced myself on the sill and tilted my head, my panting breath fogging the glass as he nibbled wet kisses across my shoulders.
I felt him shift behind me, heard rustling from the dresser to my right.
Yet, I didn’t register the meaning until Beckett fisted my erection, dragging his slick hand along the length from root to tip.
I hissed at the cold gel against my overheated skin and rocked my hips, thrusting into the circle of his hand.
“Fuck, you are so sexy. I love the sounds you make.”
He punctuated the filthy words by arching into me, his thick latex-covered erection sliding along my crease.
I squeezed my eyes closed and moaned, my hips working faster as I pushed into his tight grip.
“More,” I gasped, my head spinning as I struggled for breath.
“Don’t stop.”
“I have no intentions of stopping.” The blunt tip of his lubed cock pressed between my cheeks and tapped against my entrance.
“Not until you’re screaming my name.” He flexed his hips, pushing against me more insistently.
“Relax, baby. Let me in.”
Easier said than done when it felt like every nerve in my body had been stripped raw and laid bare.
But I arched my back and took a couple of deep breaths, willing my body to accept the invasion.
“Ah, fuck,” Beckett growled, dropping his brow to my shoulder as he sank into me.
“You are so fucking tight. So goddamn hot.”
Once he was seated, he stilled, giving me a chance to adjust to his size, which I appreciated.
Because, my god, he was big.
Thick, rigid, his cock filled my depths, stretching me in ways I had never experienced, and creating a delicious burn that only pushed me closer to the edge.
“Okay?” he asked, his voice tight.
I nodded once. “Keep going.”
He started slow, moving in gentle, controlled glides that made my heart pound and my balls ache.
As my muscles relaxed, welcoming a more assertive touch, he increased his pace, thrusting harder, deeper, as he pushed us both toward something incredible.
His fingers dug into my hip as he jerked me back on his cock, the sound of our flesh meeting echoing around the room to join the symphony of ragged breaths and desperate moans.
The pressure built, the tension balancing on a knife’s edge, ready to snap.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
I couldn’t do anything but feel.
My heart thundered inside my chest, and blood roared in my ears.
A low buzz hummed across my skin, and my lower belly tightened as my inner walls squeezed around him in rhythmic waves.
The tempo increased as the need built, each of us chasing the same prize.
The muscles in my legs shook, the limbs threatening to give out as waves of indescribable pleasure crashed over me.
Lost, flailing, I cried out, his name a frantic plea on my lips.
“That’s it, baby,” he responded, driving into me with primal intensity.
“You’re so close, aren’t you? Are you going to scream for me?” He pumped his fist along my length, jerking me in tandem to every bone-jarring thrust. “I want to hear you scream, Jazz.”
My fingers curled around the windowsill, the skin white and the knuckles aching in protest. Screwing my eyes closed, I dropped my head as heat exploded inside me, dragging me to the precipice and shoving me right over the edge.
“Beckett!”
My voice resonated throughout the room and reverberated off the windows.
My body locked down, my muscles rigid as the tension finally snapped.
Gasping, shuddering, unable to hold back, I let go, spilling my release across his hand.
Beckett answered with a deep, rumbling groan.
His grip turned bruising, and his coordination faltered as he thrust through his own climax, falling over the edge to join me on the other side.
The world faded, the city lights dimmed, and time stood still, leaving only us in that one perfect moment.
I felt like I had been shattered, broken into millions of sparkling pieces, then put back together into something shiny and new.
Beckett’s arms came around me, holding me tenderly now that the frenzy had faded, his embrace comforting rather than desperate.
I soaked up his warmth, his affection, feeling more at peace than I could ever recall.
“How about that shower now?”
Caught off guard by the suggestion, I puffed out a chuckle that ended in a quiet groan when his flagging erection slipped free from its sheath.
“Hold that thought.” Leaving me by the window, Beckett headed into the en suite to dispose of the used condom and start the shower.
When he returned, he eased me around and pulled me into his arms. “How do you feel?”
In typical fashion, I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head.
“I’m trying really hard not to think about the fact that we just had sex against the window for the whole world to see.”
His breath stuttered against my neck as he laughed.
“We’re on the thirty-eighth floor, Jazz. So, unless you’re worried about birds…”
I bobbed my head.
“What I’m hearing is that we just traumatized a couple of pigeons.”
I loved how he just laughed and rolled with my crazy thoughts.
“Come on, you’ll feel better after a shower.” He started to pull away, but stopped, his expression turning serious as he stared into my eyes.
“You’re still staying, right?”
He had good reason to worry since I had an established record of running when things got a little too real.
This time, however, he could rest easy.
Yeah, it was a lot. Thing didn’t get much more real than this, but I didn’t feel overwhelmed or afraid.
In fact, I had never felt more convinced that I was right where I belonged.
“I’m not going anywhere.”