Chapter 23 Jasper
TWENTY-THREE
JASPER
Damn it, I’m late.
I park my car in the OCK driveaway, grabbing my backpack and a small brown paper bag out of the passenger seat before climbing out. We were supposed to have a study session at the library. I had planned on telling Mara the great news there.
I passed my last organic chemistry exam.
Not just passed, fucking nailed it. And she’s the first person I want to tell.
Hell, she’s the reason I even understood half the questions on that test. If it weren’t for her tutoring sessions, her endless patience, and her soft voice walking me through reaction mechanisms over and over, I’d be completely lost.
So, before our session today, I drove out to the city to get her a thank you gift.
A 1931 printing of Wuthering Heights with the original dust jacket.
It cost more than I ever want to admit I spent on a book, and took three different rare book dealers to locate.
But she told me that her grandmother used to have a copy of it, and that it was given away when she passed and she was devastated since it’s her favorite book.
I’ve told myself a hundred times the same thing I told the guys in the study—I want nothing to do with this. I signed off on the rules: no touching without consent, no secret deals, no blood in the house over her. I meant it—I still mean it.
Dredyn’s low murmur cuts through, and something about his tone prickles at my instincts. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but Mara’s laugh tapers off into a breathy sound. A sound almost like… a muffled whimper? I freeze just outside the kitchen doorway.
What the hell is going on?
I inch forward and peer around the corner into the kitchen.
And then I see everything.
Mara is perched on the edge of the table, her floral skirt rucked up high on her thighs. Her head is tipped back against the table, dark hair tumbling all over, and her lips are parted in a silent cry.
Dredyn stands between her spread legs, one of his arms wrapped around her waist to steady her, the other hand…
Jesus. His other hand is under her skirt, moving in a way that makes Mara’s entire body quiver.
I catch a glimpse of his fingers glistening when he briefly lifts them to tease the spot where her panties are pushed aside.
He’s inside her—I can tell from the way Mara’s hips jerk forward and the broken moan that slips from her throat.
My stomach plunges even as something hot and electric flashes through my veins. My pulse roars in my ears. I know I should look away, walk away, anything, but I can’t. I’m rooted in place, watching like some creep.
Mara’s face… God, she looks wrecked with pleasure.
Her cheeks are flushed that pretty rose pink I know so well, and her lashes flutter closed as Dredyn murmurs something against her neck.
I’m too far gone over the rush of blood to my cock.
One of her hands clutches desperately at his broad shoulder, and the other braces on the counter behind her.
I want to scream at Dredyn to get his goddamn hands off her, to pull her skirt down and shield her from what I’m seeing. Yet, at the same time, a dark part of me is turned on. Heat coils in my gut and slides lower. My cock twitches, stiffening painfully against my jeans.
The brown paper bag carrying the book falls to the ground.
Mara’s eyes fly open, wide and dazed, zeroing in on me, standing there in the doorway.
Dredyn turns his head lazily over his shoulder, not the least bit startled.
In fact, the bastard smirks when he sees me, his fingers still buried deep between Mara’s thighs as if to make a point.
She pushes at Dredyn’s chest, her skirt falling back to mid-thigh as she scrambles to make herself decent. Her face is a furious red, whether from what they were doing or from being caught—or both. She ducks her head, panting.
“Jasper—” she begins, voice cracking.
Dredyn still doesn’t budge. He withdraws his hand slowly, dragging it out from under Mara’s skirt in an unhurried show. My jaw clenches so hard it might shatter as I see a slick gleam on his fingers. Dredyn sucks the arousal off his fingers, wearing that infuriating smirk.
“Guess tutoring isn’t the only thing she’s good at, huh?” he drawls. His tone is mock-thoughtful, but his eyes glitter with challenge as they lock onto mine.
Mara slides off the counter, unsteady on her feet, and Dredyn finally takes a half step back to let her stand, though he keeps one arm loosely around her, as if staking a claim. Mara hastily smooths her skirt down with trembling hands, her gaze darting between Dredyn and me in wide-eyed panic.
I can’t tear my eyes away from Dredyn’s arm around her waist, his fingers splayed possessively on her hip. A red haze edges into my vision. “Get your hands off her,” I sign.
Dredyn chuckles under his breath and finally releases Mara, though not without trailing his fingertips slowly across her lower back as he steps away. She shudders at the contact, eyes fluttering, and it guts me all over again.
He pauses when we’re shoulder to shoulder, leaning in to whisper so only I can hear, “She’s ours, you know. Stop pretending you don’t want in.”
White-hot fury explodes behind my eyes. I shove him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back a step.
The urge to follow through and knock him flat pulses in my clenched fist. But the asshole just laughs, throwing his hands up again like this is all a big joke.
He flicks a glance at Mara, then back at me, and gives a cocky wink.
“See you upstairs,” he tosses over his shoulder to her, utterly unfazed. Then he saunters out of the kitchen, leaving a ringing silence in his wake.
The door swings shut behind Dredyn, the echo of it lingering.
Mara and I are left staring at each other across the kitchen, and the only sound is our heavy, uneven breathing.
She stands there trembling, her back pressed to the counter.
One of her hands flutters to her wrinkled skirt, as if smoothing it down could erase what I just saw.
“I—It wasn’t—” she begins in a small, broken voice, her gaze skittering to the floor. “He just… I don’t know what—”
“Stop.”
Mara flinches and finally meets my eyes. Hers are shiny, wide with tears she’s trying desperately not to blink free.
I stoop and grab the discarded gift bag off the floor.
The book inside has spilled halfway out, its antique cover peeks through the tissue paper.
I shove it back into the bag, then I stride forward and slam the whole thing down on the kitchen table beside us.
The glass salt shaker jumps with the force.
Mara startles, a tear escaping down her cheek. She looks from the bag up to me, confusion cutting through her shame. “Jasper… what—”
“That test today? I passed.” I thump my fist against my chest, then point at her, signing pass in a frantic motion. “Because of you. Every right answer on that exam was something you taught me.”
I drag my fingers through my hair, clutching at the roots. The floodgates are open and I can’t hold anything back.
“I wanted to celebrate with you, Mara. And instead I walk in on—”
Mara finally moves, stepping forward unsteadily. “Jasper,” she whispers, my name shaking on her lips.
In one stride, I’m on her.
My hand fists in her hair, yanking her head back so hard her gasp turns into a whimper that goes straight to my cock.
I crush my mouth to hers—no gentle first kiss bullshit.
This is weeks of watching her come undone for them, weeks of pretending I didn’t want to be the one wrecking her, exploding out of me.
She freezes for half a heartbeat, palms flat on my chest like she’s going to push me away. Then she melts, fingers twisting in my shirt, dragging me closer, kissing me back like she’s starving. A broken moan vibrates against my tongue and I swear I get harder than I’ve ever been in my life.
A low growl rumbles in my chest as I wrap my arm around her waist and yank her flush against my body. Her soft curves mold to me as I angle my head and deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, and Mara answers with a hungry, trembling fervor that sets my blood on fire.
Her back hits the edge of the table, and I use it to pin her there, trapping her snugly between the wood and my hips.
Mara only breaks away from my lips to drag in a desperate breath, and I take the chance to latch onto her jaw and neck, tasting the tears that have slipped down to her throat.
By the time I manage to pull back, we’re both shaking. Mara’s eyes stay closed, her swollen lips parted as she catches her breath. Her hands are still fisted in my shirt, and I cover them with mine, not ready to let go.
I brush a stray tear from her cheek with my thumb.
“Mine too, Kitten.” I feel her inhale sharply, her fingers tightening in my shirt.
With our foreheads touching, I sign the words again across her shoulder so there’s no mistaking.
“Mine. Too.” Because though my voice is weak, my hands have always been louder.
Mara’s eyes flutter open at that, big and glassy, locking onto mine.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips red and kiss-bruised, and she is devastatingly beautiful
I release her and step back, my heart screaming at me to pull her close again. But I refuse to beg. I won’t stand here and watch indecision and regret cloud those beautiful eyes.
She reaches for me, but I sidestep her, grabbing the crumpled gift bag from the table to keep my hands busy. I swallow hard and reach in, pulling out the leather-bound book. Mara stands frozen, tears slipping down her face as she watches.
I take her hand—the one she’d been tentatively reaching toward me—and turn it palm up. Carefully, I set the book in her grasp.
Mara blinks, fresh tears spilling over. She looks down at the book in her hand, really seeing it for the first time. Recognition dawns in her eyes. “Oh my god. Jasper, this is… is this the—”
I step closer, forcing her chin up so she can’t look anywhere but at me. My thumb drags roughly across her damp cheek, smearing the tear.
“You listen to me, Kitten. You’re Omega Chi Kappa’s girl. Don’t fucking forget that.” I lean in, my forehead pressing to hers, my grip firm at the back of her neck and whisper, “You’re my girl.”
I see the shock in her face, but I don’t back down. Not this time. If Dredyn and Talon want her, they’ll have to fight me for her. Because she’s not just theirs. She’s mine too.