Chapter 12
Jackson
I left a still sleeping Pete in bed, and started making us breakfast. I knew how to make pancakes—the ready mix in the pantry was where I peaked cooking wise—so I began making those as I made as little noise as possible.
Pete needed all the rest he could get this week.
He might’ve seemed fine, but something as traumatizing as almost dying could hit him at any moment.
I was glad I was the one taking care of him.
Not that Linda wouldn’t have been there for him had he gone home, it was more for selfish reasons that I wanted to be the one caring for him.
Pete was… a surprise. I’d known him for over two years but never like this.
I’d always liked him and found him endearing, but now it was so much more.
Like I truly saw him. And he, me. I knew he was genuine about his intentions with me, and I felt our talk yesterday about doing what we felt was right was the perfect step for us moving forward.
I would hate to force us to do something just because others would see it as moving too fast. Many of my friends had these rules about not moving too fast in relationships and taking their time.
I wasn’t about that. Why should I waste my time?
If we ended up going our separate ways in the end, it would still hurt, but I would be left with the regret that I hadn’t spent enough of my time with Pete because we’d taken things slow.
Or maybe like Mike had done with Vera, we would force ourselves to spend time apart, even if we wanted to spend that time together.
It made zero sense to me. Life was fragile, and I felt the truth of that even more after my father’s funeral.
What if I ended up forgetting like him? Would it start in my sixties like it had with him?
Or would I be able to remember even in my eighties.
Would I even live that long? All these questions made it that much easier for me to not waste my time.
Pete was this soft and innocent guy, he had a confidence that I was drawn to, and damn it if I wasn’t in awe of that.
If what he’d said yesterday was true, then he’d planned for us to date as soon as he got old enough.
He’d even asked Mike for permission. This wasn’t some rash decision because I’d saved him from the asshole in the club.
No, Pete truly wanted me, and had for a long time.
He wouldn’t want to wait either, he’d already waited years.
It felt right being with him and even though I felt ready to never let him leave my apartment again, I also knew that would be too fast. But I liked the idea of us one day living together.
Maybe I could mention it in a month’s time?
If I could wait that long. I shook my head.
I would do what felt right, and right now we just needed to get to know one another better.
We’d only kissed and I was already planning our future.
I needed to calm my ass down and just focus on the pancakes.
As soon as the pancakes were done, I figured a shower would be a good thing.
If Pete was still asleep after my shower, I would wake him up with a good morning kiss.
With that plan in mind, I hurried into the shower and quickly washed my body.
Just as I rinsed out my shampoo the lights started flickering again.
I felt my body tense up. Was this something new I would need to deal with?
My home here had been so calming without any triggers for a long time.
Having Pete near was a comfort, though. Had I been alone, I feared I might’ve been feeling true despair, but Pete’s presence helped calm me.
I knew my fears were complicated. I couldn’t even remember everything and it could’ve been my childish imagination that had run wild like my therapist had said, but even if that were the truth, he’d also said that my fears were valid.
Because I couldn’t remember, my therapist, Bren, had told me, it could’ve been something my grandma had seen on TV that had scared me.
Or sounds from the TV that my imagination had tried to rationalize and it had created something scary in the Younger Me’s mind.
Bren had been a true help when we worked through my trauma together.
My father had insisted I hadn’t needed the help and it was just ‘a waste of time and money’ but it had helped.
Bren had so many logical reasons for why I’d been so scared.
He mentioned my grandmother could’ve been sick and saw things that weren’t there.
That she might’ve needed help from others and that it wasn’t my fault for being scared of a grown-up acting weird.
The sounds in the house could be easily explained away.
Old houses tended to create a lot of noise.
Everyone knew that. And Bren had been… patient.
He never made me feel like I was wasting his time, or forced me to speak.
He’d listened and tried to find reasons for my trauma.
Because that’s what he’d called it. Trauma.
I got easily triggered back then, and how I felt after being triggered was what Bren had referred to as trauma responses, because my body feared what would come after a sound or flickering of lights.
Maybe I should call him and ask for a new appointment.
I knew Pete would never blame me for reacting to sounds and such, he’d proven as much yesterday.
But I owed it to Pete and myself to continue working on my fears so it wouldn’t affect us in the future.
The lights were still flickering, but it had calmed me to think about Pete, but I also knew I needed to hurry up so I could get out of the bathroom soon. If it continued, I would need Pete close.
The door opened and Pete hurried inside. I moved the shower curtain so I could see him. He looked sleepy and oh so adorable. “Good morning,” I said with a grin as his half-lidded eyes widened as he took in what he could see of my naked body.
“It is a good morning,” he whispered, eying me up and down. The flickering lights held no importance anymore as I felt his want for me, and his presence took over the room. All that mattered in that moment was him. “Should we save water?”
I laughed, the feeling of safety, of being happy, consuming me. “Come on in.”
It only took a few seconds, and then a naked Pete was standing behind me in the shower. Glancing over my shoulder I had to stifle a groan. He looked so perfect and edible.
“How is it possible you’re even better than in my fantasies?” Pete sighed dreamily as I turned around. I couldn’t help my smug smile. It felt good knowing I had this effect on Pete, that he wanted me this much.
“You’re not so bad yourself—Holy fuck!” Pete’s dick—if I could even call it that—a cock was more like it. How the hell could such a small body carry that big of a cock? It was even bigger than mine. And I was not small.
When my eyes finally moved away from the sight of that still growing cock, I met Pete’s huge grin.
Oh, he knew exactly where my mind had gone.
He could do serious damage with that thing.
Too bad I wasn’t into bottoming. But there were still so many ways I could appreciate it.
With that in mind I kneeled in front of him.
I needed to taste him. I couldn’t think about anything else at the moment than taking him into my mouth and testing my gag reflex.
I rarely gave blowjobs, often because many of the subs I’d been with loved pleasuring others.
I wasn’t into inflicting pain, but praise and dominance mixed together was how I preferred it.
This was my way of showing Pete just how serious I was about him.
About us. I wanted to cherish him. To worship his body.
Starting with his cock.
He gasped softly as our eyes met. I waited for his consent before beginning. He knew what I wanted. Hell, I was hard, leaking, and on my knees in front of him. All he had to do was nod.
He swallowed. “Please,” he whispered. But it wasn’t enough. I raised one brow, daring him without words to continue. “Suck me.” I groaned. He truly was a surprise, my Pete.
I licked the head of his cock, wanting a real taste before I took him in fully.
He tasted salty and sweet at the same time.
Addictive. I had no other word for it than that.
His whole innocent personality was for everyone to see, only I got this side of him.
The sexy, confident Pete. The one who told me to suck him.
I groaned as I swirled my tongue around his cock head, wanting to tease him a bit more.
“Please,” he begged so perfectly, and who was I to deny him?
I swallowed his length, gagging a bit from the effort.
Damn, he was big. I loved it. I was a dom whenever sex was involved, pretty much always had been.
But with Pete, I got off on making him happy.
Giving him pleasure was better than any sex I’d ever had.
The moans he made as I increased my pace, sucking him down, then swirling my tongue around his head, only to take his cock as far in as it could go.
That was true gratification for me. Oh, how I loved doing this.
My knees didn’t, but I barely felt anything other than this need to please my man.
To make him shake with pleasure. I wanted him to fall apart in front of me. Because of me.
“Please, please, Jackson. I can’t…” he whimpered, leaning against the tiles as I grabbed his ass and devoured his cock.
I let one finger tease his hole, just a light touch.
A promise. That was all it took for Pete to surrender and to cry out as his cum filled my mouth.
I wasn’t able to swallow everything, letting it trail down my chin and mix with the water.
His eyes met mine. He was beautiful. Flushed, sated, and oh so surprised. He smiled lazily, too blissed out to fully stand on his own, allowing the tiles and my hands on his ass to keep him upright. I rose, still holding on to him. Once I stood, he looked up at me. “Thank you,” he whispered.
I kissed his cute nose. “Anytime.” My voice was raspy. Used. He tried to kneel, likely to return the favor, but I stopped him. “This was about me taking care of you. You can taste me later, okay?” He pouted, but agreed. “Good. Now, relax into me and let me wash you.”
He sighed and moved away from the tiles, his cold back resting against my front, my hard dick rubbing against his back. But we both ignored it. This was about Pete. I already had my fun. Seeing Pete fall apart in front of me… Addictive truly was the right word.
My Pete addiction had begun.