My heart bleeds for the little boy whose father didn’t protect him like my father did. I’m sure Jason’s father never looked in closets and under beds when Jason had a bad dream, because he would only come face-to-face with himself. He is a monster.
Jason leans back and runs his hands over his hair then throws his long, strong, and muscular legs up so his feet come to rest on the concrete wall that surrounds the balcony. He grabs a brown, long-neck bottle off the floor next to him and takes a drink. Then he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. He sets it down and clasps his hands behind his head and rubs them up and down his neck, rubbing into it as if he is working out the stress he carries there.
I slide the door open, and the low rumble of music I heard is now loud. He is still rubbing his neck when I walk up behind him. My fingers itch to rub away his worry. I reach out to do just that and immediately realize it’s a bad idea.
In one swift move, his hands grip my wrists, and I am effortlessly pulled over his shoulder and land on his lap.
I open my eyes wide as I stare into his, which are just as shocked. Then I can’t help laughing. He looks at me like I’m insane, and maybe I am. Then he smirks, giving me a glimpse of the dimple that is rarely visible.
I put my finger on it. “That’s a treat.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so?” He quickly moves his head and catches my finger between his teeth, winks, and then releases it.
“It is.” I smile, getting more comfortable on his lap.
“You better stop doing that. You’re technically poking the snake, angel.”
I wiggle my bottom again, and he immediately stands with one arm wrapped around me. His lips crash down on mine, and he moans. His tongue thrusts inside my wanton mouth and takes possession of it. His feast is short-lived, though. He abruptly pulls away and steps back, leaving me wanting more.
He looks me up and down, his eyes hooded and dark. Then he turns around and walks to the grill. “Sit down and relax.”
“I think I’ve done a lot of that today.”
He looks over his shoulder and nods. “You needed it.”
“So do you,” I say quietly as he flips two of the biggest steaks I have ever seen in my life.
He walks back toward me, grips my hips, moves me to the side, and grabs the beer before walking back to the grill and dousing the meat with it.
“I’m good,” he finally answers.
Yes, he is, whether he believes it or not.
Basketball shorts, muscles, and tattoos combine to make up the most beautiful sight. I tear my eyes off the vision and turn around, facing the city’s skyline. It’s beautiful, but not so stunning that I can get lost in it like I can him.
“You slept,” he states.
I turn back toward him and lean against the wall, nodding. “Total indulgence.”
I see him smirk as he closes the barbeque and turns around. “Fifteen minutes more to feast. Another indulgence.”
“You’re spoiling me, Jason.”
“Feeding you and letting you crash here is spoiling you?”
I shrug and turn back around to look over the city.
I hear him walk toward me. I feel the heat of his nearness, and a chill runs up my spine.
“It feels good to be free, doesn’t it?”
I turn around and am eye level to his chest. I want to tell him I feel far from free. I feel consumed, protected, bonded, and owned.
I lick my lips and lean in. I want to be closer to him. I want to feel his skin touching mine. I want to taste his skin.
He cups my face and lifts it so I am looking in his eyes. “I need a shower. You need to eat something.” Then he steps away, and I feel insecure, stupid . . . “Then I’m gonna fuck you, angel.”
. . . desired, impatient . . . dirty.
I wait until I see him disappear into the bathroom. Then I walk inside and close the door behind me quietly. I sneak up to the bathroom door and wait until I hear the water running. I look down when I feel Boots tangle between my feet.
“Not now, buddy,” I whisper and step around him.
My heart is pounding. I need to be brave. I think of Heidi and consider pretending just for a moment that I am her. However, I don’t want her to linger between us, to be in my head. I don’t want to feel like I did at The Lion’s Den. I want him. I want me. I want the feeling of his strong body next to me, his skin touching mine, his mouth against mine, his hands on me.