Jagged Edge

How long can I wait for him to come to me? To open up, little by little, giving in inch by inch?

Forever, if need be.

But we don’t have that kind of time, not anymore.

So I cruise through town, too restless for anything else, checking Jason’s older haunts just in case. Of course he’s not there, and when I think I recognize one of his buddies, a slender blond guy, he vanishes into an alley and is gone.

Or maybe I’m imagining things. I thought Jason had sent everyone in his gang away by now.

Suddenly I panic that he’s at home, and I’m out here, looking for him. Which is stupid. He does have the apartment key. Even if he is home, he’s warm and sheltered.

Doesn’t stop me from stepping on the gas to get home sooner, though.

And of course he isn’t there when I arrive. No sign of him having passed by, either. My bed is the mess of sheets we left this morning.

Was it only this morning? Shit. Feels like a month. When I pull the sheets off the bed, I find the stains of his cum on the undersheet, and it makes me grin.

Then I remember the tears in his eyes and sit down on the bare mattress, sadness washing over me in a cold wave.

I told him I knew what I was getting into. But do I? Every day feels like a challenge. Could it be more complicated? Saving him from a brutal life won’t be enough, even if we manage to get Simon off his back. Those dark eyes have seen too much. His scarred skin tells a long story of pain and despair. How do I save him from that?

I think of the therapist I saw for the first two years I spent here, at Ocean’s insistence. She’s really nice. Most of the Brotherhood and Damage guys have been her clients. She could help Jason.

Damn. I let the sheets fall to the floor and rub both hands over my face. Am I nuts? Is there a future for us? Is there an ‘us’? The odds seem impossible, and yet I can’t let go of hope. No fucking way. I don’t expect a picket fence and green lawns and China tea sets.

With a sigh, I fall back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. I just want Jason with me. Every day and every night. For our whole lives. Is that too much to ask? Isn’t that what everyone wants—someone they care for to spend their lives with?

The only question is, does he care for me?

I wish I knew.

In the dark, pleasure rushes through me, a streak of fire from my balls to my back, making my muscles clench. Sparkles light up behind my lids. Warmth floods my body, tingles running down my legs and up my spine.

My dick throbs, and that’s when I feel it. Heat, pressure, and I gasp when a wicked tongue licks the underside of my dick.

Oh fuck. I’m naked somehow, at least from the waist down, and someone’s hot mouth is on me, sucking and licking. It’s blowing my mind. Strong hands are on my thighs, spreading them wider, and then the heat flows down to my balls.

Warm breath and rough tongue torturing them until they’re tight and achy, and then that clever mouth returns to my cock, and wow…

I can’t even recognize the tortured moan leaving my mouth. Light scrape of teeth, another swipe of tongue, and that goddamn suction, it’s driving me crazy. Scent of cinnamon and spice, and when I put down my hand, I find a tousled head of silky hair.

“Yeah…” My mind’s spinning. I bury my fingers in the short strands, needing to hold on to something, and groan as he sucks harder. “Shit. Jase…”

Orgasm hits me like a freight train. One moment I’m gripping his hair and rocking into his mouth, and the next I’m arching right off the bed, coming so hard my dick might as well be spewing liquid fire.

Dammit. I don’t think my muscles will ever unclench again.

When my senses return, and my heart stops pounding in my ears, I take stock. I’m in bed. I’m pretty sure I’m awake, sated and wrung out. That was no wet dream.

I can see his shadowy outline, I can hear him breathing in the dark, still there, between my legs. It’s a harsh, unsettling sound that sets my teeth on edge and slowly dissolves my post-orgasmic lassitude.

“Jase?” I whisper, pretty sure it’s him, but fuck, I can’t see him properly.

Then he starts to cough, and blindly I reach for the bedside lamp, blinking starbursts from my eyes at the sudden flood of light.

“When did you come in?” I reach for him, but he doesn’t react, even as his cough subsides. Those beautiful dark eyes are staring somewhere past me. “Jason.”

“I worked late.” Even his voice is leaden.