15. Jasper
15
JASPER
S hit.
What the hell am I doing?
I should have better control than this. I do have better control than this. I’ve been trained—taught to compartmentalize, to make decisions based on logic and necessity, not impulse. Control isn’t just something I practice —it’s part of me. A reflex. It’s how I’ve survived this long.
Except… when it comes to her, it’s like that switch is broken.
“Rainbow,” I murmur, gently setting her on the edge of my bed.
My bed.
Seeing her here, in this space, does something to me I can’t explain. She looks so small, so innocent and sleepy, her eyes barely open. She looks like she belongs here.
Maybe because she does.
My jaw clenches as a possessive thought coils in my chest. I want to keep her here. Wrap her up in safety and warmth and never let her leave. I want to shield her from everything cruel and hard and cold. I want towatch her thrive because I know, under my care, she will.
I’ll make damn sure of it.
“Did you fall asleep on the couch?” she asks softly.
I drag my gaze from where I’ve been standing, frozen by the dresser, and nod. “Yeah. Woke up to Fluffy headbutting me. We forgot to feed him, and he wasn’t subtle about reminding me. I got him his kibble and fresh water.”
She giggles, tucking her knees to her chest and hugging them, her oversized shirt swallowing her frame.
“For a guy who hates my cat,” she teases, “you sure seem soft for him. Starting to think you’re not as grumpy as you let on.”
I shoot her a stern glare.
“Nah. I’m grumpy,” I grumble. “But for some damn reason I’ve got a weak spot for you. And I know you like that damn cat.”
Her eyes widen a little, and her lips part like she’s surprised. “You have a soft spot for me ?”
Is she serious? Who wouldn’t?
“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you get away with shit, though,” I say, pulling a T-shirt from my drawer, holding it out to her. “Here. Sleep in this. I’m going to run to the main house and grab your blankie.”
“Oh—Um, you don’t have to.” Her voice falters as her cheeks flush.
“Last night, you couldn’t sleep without it,” I remind her gently. “That makes it important. I’ll be back in five. Go potty, change, and brush your teeth. There are new toothbrushes in the top drawer.”
She finally gives a hesitant nod, and I back out of the room, leaving her to do her bedtime routine.
When I get inside the main house, I take the stairs two at a time, trying to avoid anyone. The last thing I need is questions from my brothers or the other Little girls. Those two are a real pain in the ass when they want to know something. I grab Ariana’s blanket from the guest bedroom and head back, gripping it tighter than necessary the whole way.
When I get home, the house is quiet, and the bedroom door is still cracked. I step inside and stop short.
She’s in my bed.
On my side.
I cross the room, slower this time, and slowly reach out to hand her the blanket. Her eyes light up the second her fingers touch it, like it’s something so precious to her, and it makes me wonder if it actually is. She pulls it to her chest, her pacifier still clipped to the edge, and I watch, wondering if she’ll suck on it in front of me. Her fingers run over the plastic, but she doesn’t bring it to her lips.
All in good time.
Seeing her here, in my space, trusting me to take care of her, makes me feel something I’m not sure I’ve ever truly felt.
Hopeful.
“I’ll be right back,” I mutter, dragging myself toward the bathroom.
Inside, I strip out of my jeans and throw on a pair of gray sweats. I run my hands through my hair, then grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection.
Get it together, Jasper.
Feeling anything for Ariana is a mistake. Getting my hopes up would be a huge mistake that will only end up with heartbreak. She’s a friend who needs me to help her, not fall in love with her.
I walk back into the bedroom, rolling my shoulders like that’ll loosen the tension in my bones. She’s tucked under the blankets, watching me with wide eyes that roam—slowly, curiously—over every inch of me.
I pretend not to notice.
Even though I feel every pass of her gaze like a brand.
I climb into bed, shifting the covers and reaching out to her hip. I press my hand there gently, guiding her. “Scoot. You sleep on that side. Farthest from the door.”
She giggles as she moves, the sound a soothing melody that I want to hear more of. “Protective much?”
I growl, quiet and low. “You have no idea.”
She settles in beside me, still giggling as she sinks into the pillow. “I think I’m starting to get the picture.”
Little brat. She really needs her bottom reddened. Maybe she wouldn’t be so sassy with me. Even if it is fun to go back and forth with her sometimes.
I lie back, arms folded behind my head, my body tense in ways I can’t even begin to unravel. She’s right next to me. So close I can smell her strawberry scent. She’s wearing my shirt. In my bed.
And all I can do is stare at the ceiling and pray for strength.
Because this?
This is going to be the longest night of my damn life.
* * *
I jerk awake, chest heaving with a sharp breath, my heart thundering as if I’ve just been ripped from one of my usual nightmares.
Only… I haven’t.
This is completely different.
There’s no darkness clawing at my mind. No echoes of the past. No cold sweat soaking the sheets.
Just sunlight. Soft and golden, streaming through the window and spilling across the floor. It stretches up the side of the bed, touching the edge of the blanket where she sleeps.
And then I remember.
Where I am.
Who I’m with.
I turn my head slowly, my muscles tense out of habit, but the second I see her, it all melts away.
Ariana.
Curled on her side, her small blanket tucked beneath her chin, one hand loosely fisted around the fabric. The attached pacifier nestled between her lips, rising and falling gently with each quiet breath. She needs a new one. The plastic guard is faded, and from the looks of it, she’s chewed on the nipple a few too many times. Then again, the blanket also looks like it’s seen better days. How long has she had it?
She’s completely still, completely unaware of how much power she has in this moment—over me, over everything. Since the day I first laid eyes on her.
God, she’s beautiful.
Her shiny hair is a soft halo around her face, messy and wild from sleep, but somehow, it only adds to her adorableness. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted just enough around the pacifier to make my chest tighten. She looks so damn Little. Makes me wonder when she last slept this peacefully, tucked in a warm, safe bed. I really don’t want to think about it too much because otherwise I’ll just get pissed that I didn’t find her sooner.
Almost as if being pulled by a magnet, I can’t look away. If I do, I might miss something. And I don’t want to miss anything when it comes to Ariana.
I blink, slowly, trying to process the strange swirl of emotions. Then it hits me, fast and fierce.
I slept.
All night.
No nightmares. No tossing and turning. No staring at the ceiling.
Just… sleep.
And her.
I can’t remember the last time that happened. I can’t remember the last time I woke up rested. The last time I felt this peaceful .
Because of her.
I don’t move. Don’t even breathe for a second. What will happen once I go back to sleeping alone?
Her pacifier shifts slightly with each gentle suckle, her lips soft and pink, and I feel a strange twist in my stomach. My fingers twitch beside me, aching to reach out, to touch her—but I don’t. Not yet.
Not until she starts to stir.
She lets out a soft sigh, and her body shifts closer. Her lashes flutter as her eyes begin to open, heavy with sleep. The pacifier slips from her lips and rolls onto the pillow, landing silently between us.
Her gaze finds mine almost instantly, hazy and unguarded.
“Good morning,” I whisper.
She blinks slowly, and we stare at each other, caught in the silence that stretches between us. It’s not awkward. It’s not uncertain.
It’s the certain knowledge we both have that there’s something between us. And whatever it is, it’s growing.
I reach out carefully, giving her time to pull away if she wants, even though it will gut me if she does. My fingertips brush the side of her face, tracing the soft line of her cheek, the curve of her jaw. Her skin is warm beneath my touch, so delicate it feels like a sin to lay a hand on her. She leans into it slightly, her eyes never leaving mine.
My pulse kicks up hard. At the same time, my cock throbs almost painfully. Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I’ve wanted a woman so badly. I love sex as much as any man, but it’s never been a need. Not like it is now, with Ariana.
Unable to control myself, I do what I’ve wanted to do since the moment I laid eyes on her.
I kiss her.
It’s not rushed. Not desperate. Just slow, tender, and deep in all the ways that matter. Her lips part for me like she’s been waiting for this, too, like sheknewit would come.
I keep it soft yet controlled.
One kiss. Just long enough to feel it in my bones.
When I finally pull back, her eyes blink up at me, glassy with sleep and arousal. And as I stare back at her lying beside me, warm and flushed in my bed, I make a decision that I hope I won’t regret.
She’s mine.
And I’m never letting her go.