Chapter 2
Jasper
They say drowning is silent. You slip underwater. Maybe you fight. You kick. You thrash. You try and try and try to surface. But you don’t. You can’t.
And finally, finally, you’re forced to inhale.
Your body gives up before your mind does. It decides it knows what’s best for you. It’s so desperate for air that it will take anything it can get. It doesn’t understand that your conscious mind knows a few things your instincts don’t.
It doesn’t know that you’re not surrounded by air.
It doesn’t know that the next breath will kill you.
That’s what being in love with Arlo is like.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll die for this. I’ll gasp for air, and wreck my lungs, and suffer a hundred times over to have him like this. Especially if it’s the only way I can.
I push my fingers inside his warm, tight body, watching as his mouth goes slack and his chest heaves.
He’s been here more and more lately. I’ll never complain about the chance to have him. Never. But there’s something plaguing him, and I want him to trust me. I want him to open up to me. He won’t. I know that.
So instead, I open him up in other ways. With my fingers and my cock. I’ll give him what he needs in the only way he’ll let me.
“More,” he whines, thrashing his head back and forth.
He looks like something straight from heaven, his dark hair a halo against my pillows, his chest flushed and heaving, eyes closed. It’s just dark enough in here that I can’t make out the freckle on his lip.
Doesn’t matter. I know it’s there. Teasing me. Taunting me. Begging me to dip my head and taste it.
Ignoring the desire, I slip a third finger into Arlo alongside my other two. He starts squirming instantly. He’s always so fucking needy like this.
“Feel good, baby boy?” I rasp out.
He nods, his hands flexing on the bedspread below him.
I keep working my fingers in and out of him. I’m not sure how much more he can take, given the way his balls are drawn tight to his body and his cock is leaking a steady stream onto his stomach.
For that matter, I’m not sure how much more I can take. It’s only been two days since I’ve had him in my bed, but it feels like a lifetime. I know I’ll never get enough of Arlo. And in the back of my mind, there’s always this insidious fear that he’s going to stop coming around.
I wouldn’t blame him. I’m so much older than him. He could have anyone he wants. And yet, he keeps gracing me with himself. Keeps showing up, albeit usually in the middle of the night, and letting me lose myself in his body.
“Please, Jasper,” he croaks out, his hole contracting hard around my fingers. “I—”
Using my free hand, I rub the back of his thigh. “You what?”
Mismatched eyes open and lock onto mine. “I need you.”
My cock jerks. “I’ll always give you what you need.”
Nodding, he relaxes again, his body going slack. If only I could convince him of that in other ways. If I could get him to let me take care of him in every way and not just this way.
Pulling free of his body, I slick my cock with extra lube.
“On your stomach, baby boy.”
Arlo flips onto his stomach quickly, pressing his ass back to me. I run a hand over his ass cheek, pulling on it until I can see his hole, slick with lube. I brush my thumb over it, reveling in his shiver.
“Hands above your head.”
His hands shoot up instantly, clasped together. I grip them in one hand, then crawl over his back and notch my cock against his hole.
He slumps, his body going pliant as he waits. “This what you need, baby boy?” I whisper, trying to keep my eyes open as I press into him inch by inch, his wet heat swallowing me whole.
“Uh-huh,” he whines.
He doesn’t push back against me, doesn’t try to rush me, and that trust… Fuck. It does something to me.
When I’m buried to the hilt, I pull right back out before slamming into him. His breath catches in his throat, and a groan rips from my chest. Fuck, he feels so damn good. Always.
I set an almost punishing pace. When Arlo shows up in the middle of the night, stripping his clothes without a word, this is what he needs.
He needs to be held down and taken apart. He needs his brain to shut off. And goddamn, do I love being the one to make it happen.
The slap of our bodies is loud, only drowned out by Arlo’s whimpery moans and my ragged breathing. I press him deeper into the bed, rocking my hips over and over.
Sex with Arlo is like nothing else in this world. The way he gives himself over to me makes me feel like a god, and I’ll never take it—or him—for granted.
Heat is racing down my spine, my body barreling toward release, and just the thought of filling him with my cum makes it rush at me faster.
I move faster, thrust harder, each of Arlo’s moans echoing in my throbbing cock. He’s going tense, his hole contracting around me rhythmically. My hips stutter, and Arlo cries out, his back arching. “Oh fuck, I’m—fuck, holy fuck… coming. Coming, coming, coming.”
I keep fucking into him, finally letting go as my dick jerks, filling him with cum, bathing my cock in it.
I grind against his ass, trying to drag out all the pleasure I can. For both him and me.
Finally, I slump to the side, pulling him into my arms.
He buries his face in my chest, rubbing his nose over my nipple with a sigh. “Feeling better?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Being with you always makes me feel better.”
I bite my tongue to keep from telling him that we could always be together. That he could move in with me. That we could tell our friends about us. But I don’t dare disturb the balance we have.
“I’m glad,” I say instead, running my fingers through his sweat-slick hair. “Do you want to shower?”
He shakes his head. “No. I should be going.”
My heart clenches. “You could stay here,” I offer.
After what feels like an eternity, he sighs. “Okay, but only because I might be too sleepy to drive.”
Whatever the reason, I’m grateful.
I force myself out of bed to get a warm washcloth to clean Arlo up, and by the time I’m back in the bedroom, he’s already dozing. He stirs a bit when I wipe him down and get him under the covers, but settles quickly, and by the time I’m back in bed, he’s dead to the world.
Almost like he senses me, even in sleep, he rolls toward me, curling into my side and placing his hand on my chest.
Clasping my hand over his, I close my eyes. I always sleep so fucking good when Arlo’s in my bed.
Soft fingers caress my chest, and it takes me a second to realize it’s Arlo. He rarely stays after he wakes up, so I don’t move, too afraid that if I do, he’ll get up and leave.
He’s tracing patterns on my skin, the tips of his fingers circling my nipple before dusting over my pec and down my sternum. They dip lower, brushing over my belly button, then my hip bone, before he slowly drags them back up and settles his hand over my heart.
His fingers twitch, and I want to reach up and hold his hand in mine.
“Can I ask you something?” he says quietly, and my eyes fly open.
“How did you know I was awake?”
“Your breathing changed about five minutes ago.” I shut my eyes again, those words sending little fissures of pain and longing through my heart. How can he know I’m awake just by my breathing? How can we be that close and it still not be enough? “Can I ask you something?” he repeats.
My heart slams against my rib cage. Can he feel that too? Does he know it beats for him and him alone? Does he know that I’d do anything for him? “Anything.”
He raises up to look at me. I wouldn’t say he looks well rested, but he does look like he’s been awake for a while. “How do you feel about kids?”
I scrunch my nose up. “Like in general?”
Searching my face, he nods. “Sure. And like, in your life? Like, do you want kids?”
Unable to resist, I press my thumb to his lower lip over his freckle, dragging it down over his chin.
I sigh. “I’m not sure, really. I never really pictured myself having kids.
I work so much. Never mind how dangerous my field is.
” I shrug, and something dims in Arlo’s eyes. “Why? Do you want kids?”
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter, really.”
“Of course it matters. It matters to me.”
His lashes flutter as he closes his eyes, then he rolls away from me. Climbing out of bed, he stretches, his arms extending over his head and his lean chest arching. “I’ve gotta go.”
I frown. “You could stay for breakfast.”
“I can’t.”
Looking around the room, his brows draw together before realization dawns, and he slips out of the room. He comes back a few minutes later, dressed in last night’s clothes.
I push up, bracing myself on my elbow as I watch him. “You know, staying for breakfast won’t kill you. You don’t have to rush off as soon as the sun comes up like some kind of vampire.”
He snorts. “Vampires can’t go out in the sun. I’d leave before sunrise if I was some kind of vampire.”
“Arlo.”
He shakes his head, sobering. “I’ve gotta go. Thank you. Until next time.”
I sit up fully, the blankets pooling around my waist. “Hey, wait.”
Arlo pauses, turning to me. “Yeah?” I stick my bottom lip out in a pout that could rival even his. He rolls his eyes. “Are you pouting at me? What do you want?’
“A goodbye kiss.”
He narrows his eyes. “And you think pouting at me is gonna do the trick?”
I shrug. “Seems to work for you.”
After staring at me with his mouth hanging open for a second, he giggles—my favorite sound in the whole world. “You’re doing it wrong.”
My brows pull together. “Pouting? How do you pout wrong?”
Cocking his head, he grins. “You’ve gotta add a little lash flutter.”
He bats his lashes at me, like he’s proving a point, and given the way my heart skips a beat, I guess he kind of did.
I’m sure I look half-ridiculous, but when I bat my lashes at him and stick my lower lip out, he walks around the room and leans into my space.
Gripping the front of his shirt in my fist, I pull him down to me and seal our lips together. He sighs into the kiss. I’m not above using this to keep him here a little longer, so I deepen it, taking my time exploring his mouth.
He sighs, sinking into it more—into me. I’m just about convinced it’s working when he pulls back and puts space between us.
“Have a good day, Jasper,” he murmurs.
And with that, he turns and walks right out of the room. A few moments later, my front door shuts, and the barely audible rumble of his engine reaches my ears.
With a sigh, I slump back in bed, blinking up at the ceiling.
I’m not sure how to survive this. Him.
I guess if it does kill me, there are worse ways to go out. Death by loving Arlo Montgomery doesn’t sound all that bad compared to some ways I could die.
A small smile splits my face despite the ache burning in my heart.
Tossing the blankets back, I climb out of bed. If Austin is up, I might see if he wants to go to the gym with me. He wasn’t much for working out before, only doing as much as the job required. Ever since he had to defend Luca from Luca’s ex-fiancé, he’s taken it more seriously.
I grab my phone, unplugging it from the charger before sending a quick text to Austin.
Me
Wanna hit the gym with me?
Dropping my phone on the bed, I get dressed, pulling on basketball shorts and a cutoff tee.
By the time I’ve dressed and filled my water bottle, he still hasn’t responded. I check the time. Makes sense that he’s not up yet. If I had Arlo in bed with me, I wouldn’t be getting up to drag my ass to the gym before nine in the morning.
I try not to let myself picture what our life together could be like, but on mornings like today, when I wake up to him still in bed with me, his fingers gentle on my skin, it’s almost impossible.
All I can do is try to get through each day, take what he gives me, and hope and pray that I can manage to hold my breath.