Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
FLYNN
I couldn’t stop touching him.
Just like I couldn’t stop smiling whenever he murmured “Banana Jammies” and then let out a little rumble of laughter.
I’d started the process of waking Jules up nearly an hour earlier by skimming my fingers over his cheek and kissing the back of his neck. Instead of opening his eyes, he’d started to whisper my name over and over. Each sexy little whimper had made my already burgeoning erection feel like my dick was going to split in half from the pressure, but all thoughts of rousing Jules had stopped because he’d ended up rolling his body over and snuggling up against my chest. His lips were resting right next to the top of the scar that ran down the length of my chest.
From that point on, I’d toyed with his hair, memorizing the texture and smell, and I’d touched pretty much every part of his face. Many of the bruises he’d incurred during the assault in Eden were finally starting to fade.
Everything about Jules confused me.
In good ways and bad.
First off, I’d never met a man who exuded such tenderness like Jules did. He had an innate ability to empathize, yet he didn’t allow anyone to walk all over him. His soft lips offered up a sharp tongue-lashing as easily as they did a sensual murmur. He’d sparred verbally like he’d been doing it his whole life, yet he gave every part of himself when he kissed. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the only one he behaved that way with.
Deep down, I wanted the answer to that question to be a yes, but I would never dare ask it. Leaving Black Hills Ranch in a few months would be hard enough as it was. Hell, leaving the bed was hard enough.
I ran away from home.
I still couldn’t get his words from the day before out of my head. What had he meant? He was obviously old enough to be on his own, so what did that leave? An abusive ex? A gambling or substance abuse problem? Or just life in general?
Nothing had gone as planned the day before. Not from the moment I’d overheard Jules talking to Brooks about meeting some guy on a layover in Casper. I’d wanted to stride into the kitchen at that very moment, but then Jules had started mentioning toys and cuffs, and all kinds of images had started forming in my head. I’d never been into BDSM, but I could definitely get on board with the idea of tying Jules up and taking him to the edge of climax over and over again until he was pleading with me for relief.
“Good job,” I muttered under my breath. My steel rod of a cock was responding to all the mental images, and I doubted there’d be any image that I could use to get my mind off what being inside of Jules would feel like.
“Do you need a hand with something?” Jules asked softly. His eyes were shut but there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve only got one good one at the moment, but I’m sure I can figure out how to make it work?—”
I covered his mouth with mine before he could finish his offer because I really, really wanted to take him up on it. My brain was trying to command my voice to speak while my cock was screaming in demand, especially when Jules rolled me to my back before getting on top of me. “Your arm,” I hissed just as his dick brushed over mine.
“Is fine,” Jules moaned a second before rolling his hips forward, making his dick slide along mine. His tongue slid deliciously along mine every time he ground his pelvis against me. I kissed him back and wrapped my arms around him, but Jules was clearly in control. I wondered if he even realized it.
Everything we’d said and done from the moment I’d walked into that kitchen to grab one of the heavy pots of stew had been a roller coaster of words, emotions, and physical contact. I still couldn’t remember how we’d gotten to this point. I’d had no plan to end up on this bed with him, I definitely hadn’t had any intention of showing Jules the ragged scar on my chest, and to top it all off, I’d gone and basically told the younger man that I wasn’t exactly who I wanted people to believe I was.
“Jules,” I groaned in a half-hearted attempt to get his attention. I had my eyes closed because I wanted to experience every sensation as Jules took care of me. His mouth and touch were gentle as they explored my chest, specifically the scar. I hadn’t thought to button my shirt back up, so Jules had complete access to my upper body.
My lower body was being tortured in a whole different way by Jules’s hand, the one from his uninjured arm. He ran the palm of his hand along the length of my erection. Between that and his mouth’s southern migration, I knew what he was planning. I wanted to stop him. I needed to stop him.
And yet I couldn’t.
The pleasure, the intoxication of it all—it’d been a long time since I’d felt even a hint of that, but I hadn’t really missed it.
That had changed from the first time I’d kissed Jules. I hadn’t known a single thing about him—including that he had been, in fact, a him —but it hadn’t mattered. Our chemistry was off the charts, and being away from him was as painful as being near him was.
“Jules,” I managed to grind out when Jules began to fumble with my belt buckle. I swore I heard him let out a muffled curse, but with the sound of my own heart beating between my ears and the inability to breathe in anything but short snaps of air, panic began to drown everything out.
Including Jules.
My chest ached and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. All my pulse points were throbbing as blood raced through my veins.
It was the sound of a zipper being drawn down that woke me up. “Jules, you have to stop,” I hissed. Hungry fingers skimmed over my hard flesh. My back involuntarily arched at the electricity that ripped through me. The pleasure was so profound that I opened my eyes so that I could watch Jules as he worked his magic on me.
Only instead of Jules, I saw the harsh overhead lighting and white ceiling. There were voices everywhere. Some far away, some closer. I didn’t know any of them. I felt sick to my stomach as my body was moved repeatedly and strange hands touched me everywhere. It was the familiar and much hated beeping sound that finally got me moving.
I sat up so abruptly that Jules nearly fell off the bed. I managed to catch his arm, but unfortunately it was the bad one. I may have stopped Jules from hitting the floor, but the string of curse words intertwined with harsh breaths was proof that I hadn’t prevented the younger man any pain.
I wanted to tend to him, I really did. I wanted to explain, too. But I couldn’t breathe. I needed air. I remembered my zipper before I rushed from the room, but just barely. Cool air hit my lungs, but it hurt like hell trying to pull enough of it into my starved lungs. My legs felt weak and my entire body was shaking, but thankfully, my pounding heart began to slow. Unfortunately, it and the rest of my faculties weren’t in any kind of position to speak when Jules exited the room. He was once again cradling his injured arm. If the situation had been anything other than what it was, I would have taken the time to enjoy Jules’s mussed hair where my fingers had trailed through it as he’d worked his way down my body. I would have teased him about the pink staining his cheeks.
Except it wasn’t something to tease about. Because Jules’s blank expression and inability to look at me, along with the color on his cheeks, wasn’t leftover arousal.
It was pain.
And probably a heavy dose of humiliation.
“Jules—” I choked.
“It’s okay, Flynn. We’ve both had a long day and they’ll be missing us if we don’t get back to the ranch soon.” Jules got close enough to me to pluck the car keys from my pocket. I was sure he was going to make a dash for the SUV and ditch me, but instead he said, “Stay here. I’ll bring the car to you.”
My breathing was only now starting to even out, so by the time I had enough air in my lungs to try and explain, Jules was gone. True to form, he kept his word and pulled the SUV up to the curb. I felt physically weak and mentally drained, so it seemed to take forever to get myself in the passenger seat and buckled in. Jules remained silent the entire time.
He never looked at me once.
“Jules—” I began in hopes of finding a way to explain my harsh reaction, but I didn’t make it to the “it’s not you, it’s me” part before Jules cut me off with one simple word.
Don’t.
* * *
I spent two days trying to get him to speak to me again, but his response hadn’t changed.
Don’t.
I’d heard the same word every time I’d managed to track him down on the ranch and yet that was all he’d say. At times, he hadn’t even needed to say the word out loud because everything about the way he held himself in my presence practically screamed the word.
Gone were the verbal jabs. He didn’t sneak looks at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. No matter what words I used to begin the conversation that would give me the chance to explain my behavior in the motel room, they were cut off almost instantaneously with that cutting word.
Don’t.
The hardest part was that even the few times I’d kept talking after he’d commanded me not to, he merely tuned me out. He didn’t try to escape to the house or come up with an excuse to leave wherever we were. He merely continued on with whatever he was doing. I’d ceased to exist. All his light was gone, stolen from him by a coward who’d been inadvertently toying with him from the moment we’d met.
I could live with the fact that Jules had no desire to speak to me, but what I couldn’t deal with was that I was the one who’d stolen that special light of his. I was the one who caused him to fake happiness whenever I saw him interact with Brooks and the other few people he had contact with.
With every disappointing encounter, my guilt turned to angry guilt. I was a selfish asshole, and I could live with a lot of things, but I couldn’t be the reason Jules stopped being who he was. My gut was telling me that ever since he’d been attacked in town, he’d had to give up the very things that were a part of his identity. I hadn’t seen any polish on his nails. He might have had some kind of eyeliner on once or twice, but that had been the first couple of times I’d run into him.
Everything about Jules was unrecognizable now.
That was about to change.
It was Saturday, and most of the ranch hands had gone to the town fair. As far as I could tell, Jules was the only one in the house because Xavier and Brooks had gone to the fair, along with Xavier’s younger sister, and Curtis had gone for a ride on his beloved horse, Grover.
The Range Rover was sitting in front of the house, so I knew Jules hadn’t left the ranch. I had no clue what I would do this time that would be any different than the last time I’d tried to talk to him, but I was done trying to take the subtle approach.
Subtle didn’t work with Jules.
I normally wasn’t good at subtle, but I’d already let things go further in the past two days than I should have. My cowardice had stopped me from pushing Jules too hard.
The house was quiet as I entered through the kitchen door. I wasn’t surprised to find it unlocked because no one ever thought to lock the damn thing. I supposed it was a middle-of-nowhere mentality, but I’d grown up knowing that even the people you trusted the most could turn on you in an instant.
I didn’t bother to knock on Jules’s door first because I knew he’d only lock it if he realized it was me on the other side. I turned the knob and opened the door to his bedroom a little bit before knocking quietly.
When there was no response, I opened the door farther only to find the room empty. I wondered how the hell I’d missed him until I heard the slight shift of what sounded like a chair sliding across tile in the bathroom.
“Jules?” I called, but predictably, there was no answer.
Reluctant to invade his privacy, I raised my voice, but when he still failed to respond, I blew out my breath. The man definitely wasn’t going to make it easy on me, not that I deserved it.
I went toward the bathroom, calling Jules’s name a few times so he’d know I was there, but it wasn’t until I reached the open bathroom door that I realized why he hadn’t responded.
Jules had wireless earbuds in his ears, and although I couldn’t hear what he was listening to, I could see an album cover on the screen of his phone. If that’d been the only thing going on, I probably would have made my presence known then and there, but as it was, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Jules was nearly unrecognizable. He was sitting in front of a small vanity mirror with bright lights running around the sides. His hair was styled with something that made the glossy black strands look blue, and from his reflection in the mirror, I could see that he’d swept the hair above his forehead off to the side. A fascinating mixture of blue, black, and purple makeup was expertly applied to his eyes, making their emerald shade stand out even more than usual. I knew nothing about makeup, but he’d used it in a way that made his cheeks look more sharply defined and his already perfect lips even more kissable. He was wearing a black see-through, long-sleeved top over a solid black tank top. Since he was sitting, I could only tell that his pants were also black.
He was dressed for a night on the town.
Only not in a town like Eden.
He belonged in a trendy club somewhere in a big city where the blend of his feminine and masculine features would turn heads in a good way. I could envision all the men flocking to him.
I stood frozen in place as Jules seemed to study every aspect of his makeup. He’d grab a sponge or brush every few seconds to deal with whatever he perceived to be a flaw. I couldn’t help that notice his nails shimmered with pink polish.
The polish he’d bought the day we’d first met and I’d ultimately returned to him.
An elaborate strand of dark beads was wound through his fingers and looped around his wrist to form connected rings and a bracelet at the same time.
Seemingly satisfied with how he looked, Jules stared at himself for a good minute. I could practically feel the tension draining from his system. There was no hiding the despair in his eyes, though.
Jules let out a sigh and then reached for a wet cloth.
“Don’t,” I called loudly when I realized what he was about to do. The wipe was there so he could remove the makeup. I moved enough that he’d see me in the mirror.
Jules let out a little gasp and ripped the earbuds out.
“Don’t,” I repeated as I pointedly looked at the wipe in his hand. Jules hadn’t turned around at all so when his eyes met mine, it was through the mirror’s reflection. I could tell he was on the precipice of ignoring me, but since I suspected it was purely out of spite, I stepped forward so I was within inches of his back. “Please,” I added.
I fully expected Jules to begin wiping away the expertly applied makeup, but to my surprise, he put the cloth down. It was then that I noticed his arm. It was still covered in bandaging, but it no longer looked as professionally applied as it had when we’d left the hospital.
Which meant he’d probably been redressing it himself. As much as I wanted to ask about the injury, I kept my mouth shut. I took a chance and lowered my hand over Jules’s shoulder and opened my palm. I held my breath as I waited for him to respond. I could tell he knew what I wanted, but I couldn’t tell what he was going to do. He could follow through on my silent request or he could throw it back in my face.
I was stunned when he chose the former and reached his hand up to take mine. He stood at my urging and then slowly turned around until he was facing me, our hands still joined. I led him out of the bathroom and over to the long, old-fashioned storage chest that sat at the foot of his bed. I let my eyes rake over him as I skimmed my fingers over his face and outfit. His skin felt as silky as the top he was wearing. His perfume was light and fresh but still intoxicating. I couldn’t help but drop my head so I could inhale deeply at the back of his ear where the smell was stronger.
What other places had he dabbed the perfume?
I reminded myself that I’d given up the right to find out.
I took a few more steps back so that I could sit on the storage chest. I tugged him forward until there was less than a foot of space between us. I was glad when he didn’t fight me. Resuming my perusal, I saw that his pants were similar to his shirt. The same silky outer fabric covered darker material that left a small amount of his flat stomach bare before emphasizing his graceful legs. He even had thick-heeled boots on. Jules could have stepped off the cover of a magazine or been ready to walk the catwalk for whatever designer had been lucky enough to snatch him up to showcase their clothing.
However, he didn’t look just masculine or just feminine.
No, he was a unique mix of both.
“You look beautiful,” I said softly. I was fortunate enough that he hadn’t pulled his hand away, so my fingers automatically began to toy with the strange bracelet. I lifted my eyes to meet Jules’s. “But that’s not why you do it, is it? To only look beautiful, I mean.”
“No,” Jules said after a long pause. The tension that had drained out of him while he’d been applying the makeup was all back now. I hated knowing I was the cause of it. I didn’t question him further about his reasons for the clothes and makeup. I already had a pretty good idea of what the answer was, but I wanted to hear it from him whenever he was ready to tell me.
If he was ever ready.
I was still toying with Jules’s hand when he snapped out of whatever haze he’d been caught up in. He pulled his hand away and said, “You should go.”
I nodded in understanding and stood. Jules hadn’t moved back, so it meant we were practically touching. Despite Jules’s request, I couldn’t make myself move. And the speech I’d practiced in my head to explain my behavior in the motel had evaporated the moment I’d seen Jules in front of that mirror.
So I really did need to go.
Instead, I cupped his cheek like it was the most natural thing to do and kissed him. I kept it tame, but it still shredded me. Especially since Jules kissed me back. After everything I’d said and done, he was kissing me back.
I forced myself to end the kiss, but I couldn’t remove my hand. I pressed my forehead against his. “I have something to show you,” I whispered. “Will you come with me?”
Jules stiffened. I was on the verge of losing him again.
“Jules, I just… I just don’t want to leave things like this. I don’t want… I don’t want you to remember your time here—” I paused because it was something I hadn’t wanted to admit, even to myself. “I don’t want you to only remember me as the asshole who kept hurting you over and over. I promise, after this, I’ll leave you alone for however long you decide to stay here.”
It seemed to take forever for Jules to respond, but when he did, it felt like someone was taking a cleaver to my insides. Jules stepped back, putting several feet between us. He crossed his arms protectively against his chest.
I nodded reluctantly and turned to leave. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard the sweetest words I’d heard in a long time.
“Give me a few minutes to change. I’ll meet you outside.”
I didn’t thank him or gush over the fact that he was giving me the chance to at least apologize to him in the way he deserved. I forced myself to ignore the butterflies of excitement in my stomach along with the strange giddiness I’d never felt before and managed to say “Okay” in an even tone before leaving the room.
Jules’s concession had been a long shot and in truth, I’d spent so much time trying to figure out how to get him to listen to me that I’d only just begun to realize something even more important.
What the hell could I say to even begin to explain something I didn’t fully understand myself?