Blitzed (Rules of Possession Book 3), page 18
“Sorry, I just…who?”
“His name is Jesse. Don’t drop the burgers,” I warned before she could respond.
“I’m not, I just….” She laughed, still looking a little flummoxed. “You have to bring him.”
“To family dinner? Er….”
“We’d love to have him. My goodness, I’ve been waiting for the day you would get serious about someone. I’m just so happy, I could—”
“Cut a whole mess of tomatoes?” I blinked innocently. “That’s what I do when I’m happy.”
“I said happy, not crazy.” A smile tugged at her mouth. “Now get to work.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said with a sigh.
“If you’re good, I’ll get Grant in here to clean up this mess.”
“Really?” I was sure my eyes were shining like an anime character. “Even the squashed bits that went under the grill?”
“Even those,” she promised. After a moment in companionable silence, she shook her head. “I’m so excited to meet your friend, honey.”
Yeah, well. Now the hard part was getting him to come.
My mother didn’t seem to realize that she’d just tasked me with the impossible. “This is such an exciting time in a person’s life. When you find the right one.”
“The right one?” I arched a brow. “I don’t know about all that.”
“We never do.That’s why it hits us so hard. By the time you realize you’re in free fall, it’s far too late to pull the rip cord.”
“So love is like leaping out of a plane with a defective parachute?” I raised an eyebrow. “You kind of suck at this.”
She huffed. “It doesn’t matter if you have a parachute or not, AJ. That’s the point. If it’s the right kind of love, you never hit the ground.”
That kind of love sounded, quite frankly, terrifying. And nothing that should put that kind of tiny smile of remembrance on her face. I didn’t have to ask who she was thinking of. There was a tinge of sadness mixed in that smile, the kind that spoke of love lost, not love found.
Truthfully, I felt a little sorry for Glenn. No matter how much of herself she chose to give to him, there would always be a little unreachable part. Not because she didn’t want to give it to him. But because she couldn’t.
“Would you do it again?” I asked quietly.
She nodded, her eyes glistening. “All of it. The good times and the bad times. I’d even repeat those times when you kids were little and we were trying to figure out our new roles in life.” She shook her head. “It’s amazing how well you all turned out. At one point, you guys were really making me regret…well, life in general.”
“Ma!”
She gave me a fond look, a little glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “My point is that even when it was bad, it was still tinged with good. Because I was doing it with the right person.”
I swallowed. “I hear you.”
“It’s worth it, AJ. Every time.”
We got back to work shortly after that. The silence was a companionable one, as we were both lost in our own thoughts. I wasn’t sure if her little pep talk had the intended effect. I was damned sure that I’d never experienced a love like the one she’d described.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
As we pumped out several orders of chicken wings, Grant stomped in, dramatic as fuck, and started cleaning up the tomatoes. That helped. I exchanged a grin with my mother over his head.
“You missed a slice under the ice maker,” I said helpfully.
He glared. “Shut up, AJ.”
19
ANDREW
Late night at the center was kind of creepy. The building was usually teeming with life and noise, kids running here and there, and counselors chasing behind them. Jesse and I were the last ones in the building and it was quiet and cold. And dark. Since Jesse was used to leaving late, he’d turned off practically all the lights except the ones in the lobby and his office. When I complained about it being creepy, he just grinned and called me a big baby.
“How old are you again?” He’d teased.
“Not much younger than you,” I shot back. He loved to lord those ten years over me. “Although you’d never know it from your fashion choices.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think someone who spends ninety percent of his life in gear that has the word Outlaws on it has any room to complain.”
His humor had faded when he spotted the donated sports gear, courtesy of several sponsors, stacked in the back room. He was upset when we didn’t get a donation and he was upset when we did get a donation. I was starting to think that Jesse just woke up in the morning thinking of problems.
I sat in his desk chair watching him pace, annoyance in every line of his lithe body. As usual, he was dressed casually, his jeans and white t-shirt soft and worn like most of his clothing. Maybe too worn. It was impossible not to look at that ass in those jeans and not think about stripping them off Jesse and fucking him silly. Or maybe, just maybe, I had a one-track mind when Jesse was concerned. So sue me.
I was kind of obsessed, to be honest. When he wasn’t with me, I wanted to know why. Not in a creepy stalker way. More in a, if you’re going to the market, maybe I need something there, too kind of way. Maybe we could also hold hands. And steal a kiss in the produce section after I make an immature joke about eggplants and peaches. Did I mention I’m a pervert at heart? No? Must’ve slipped my mind.
Jesse was sticking to his guns, though. His resolve would’ve been admirable if it wasn’t so bloody annoying. I guess he was doing the right thing by keeping a little distance. Getting all wrapped up in each other would just make things harder in the long run, especially if—no, when—we stopped hooking up. And why did the thought of that make me want to clear his desk with a sweep of my hand?
He'd kill me, of course. Dead, right there in the rubble of his neatly organized bills and carefully color-coordinated folders. But damn. I do enjoy some good drama when reaching uncomfortable conclusions. It all boiled down to one thing.
I wanted us to be more and Jesse was determined that we be less.
Jesse absently played with his black rubber wristband as he paced, which made me hum with satisfaction. I’d given him the wristband for a couple of reasons. A, he’d worn the old one out by popping it when he was worried. Newsflash, he worried a lot. B, I’d seen the quote and thought of him immediately. Be the change you want to see in the world. Those weren’t just words to him. He woke up every day and did that shit.
“Would you like your chair back?” I offered.
“I’m good,” he muttered, making another circuit around his tiny office.
“By the way, Molly wants to talk to you about a reporter from Daily Steps. He called and left a message when you were in a meeting with Joshua.”
“What did he want?”
“He wants to do a human-interest piece. It certainly can’t hurt to raise the profile of the center.” When he didn’t say anything, I frowned. “He wants an answer by this Friday.”
At that, he really started getting traction. If he didn’t stop building up friction between his shoes and the carpet, his Converse were going to start sparking. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t rather curious to see it happen. I leaned forward, propping my elbows up on the desk so I’d have a better view of his sneakers.
“Do we have a fire extinguisher?” I wanted to know.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Someone from the Wheaton Foundation made a large donation as well,” he said, working his fingers under his wristband again. “Friend of yours?”
Every time he paced behind me, I got a good whiff of his pine scent. I wanted nothing more than to take a good sniff. Who was I kidding? I wanted to bury my face in his neck and breathe him in like a drug.
It took me a second to focus. “Arnold—he’s a defensive lineman—and his wife Janet created that foundation for their kid, Wheaton. They love what you’re doing here.”
He popped his wristband some more. “I’m sure.”
There was a wealth of meaning behind his words. I pushed out of his chair because he was making me fucking dizzy with all that blasted pacing. I went around to the front of his desk and propped my butt up on the edge.
Folding my arms, I gave him the gimlet eye. “You want to tell me what’s going on? If I’d tied Swiffer pads to your feet, the floor would be sparkling clean by now.”
“Nothing is going on.”
“You sure? Because I’m just trying to understand why people donating to the center makes you look like you ate a bag of lemons. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but aren’t donations a good thing?”
“They are, yes. But it kind of sucks that they’re only interested because you’re here. I’ve been working my ass off for years, trying to secure the right kind of funding to keep us afloat. You’re here for a few months and boom, suddenly I can’t keep up with the interest.” He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “I know it sounds crazy…maybe even petty. The only thing that matters is that we’re able to keep helping people who need it most.”
“That’s not strange at all,” I said quietly. “Everyone here knows how hard you work, Jesse.”
“But it’s not even that, you know? Not just that, anyway.” He sighed. “It just seems so disingenuous. We’ve always needed a helping hand. Why bother to get involved now? Because you want to curry the favor of a celebrity? Rub arms with an NFL player?”
I shrugged because that was par for the course. “I get a lot of that. Daily.” I winced as his frown deepened. I wasn’t doing a very good job of cheering him up. “Comes with the territory.”
“Yeah, I guess it does.”
“What now?” I asked when he continued to look perturbed.
“I don’t like the matter-of-fact way that you said that. Like walking through your day and waiting to be used is a normal occurrence.”
Well, it was. I knew better than to point it out. “You worried about me?”
My teasing made him flush. “Shut up.”
This time when he paced past me, I was ready for him. I encircled his wrist and gently pulled him to a stop. He sent me a look so sheepish that I had to laugh. I tugged and after token resistance, he allowed me to tow him closer until he was standing between my legs.
When I let go, he automatically took a step back and I sighed. “You have personal space issues.”
He rolled his eyes even as he stepped forward again exaggeratedly. “Better?”
“No. You’re getting warmer, though.” I looped my arms around his waist and closed the gap between us completely. I rested my hands on the small of his stiffened back. “It’s like holding a hostile little puppet.”
“I’m not little, you behemoth.” He sounded amused as he loosely linked his hands around my neck. “How’s that? Am I a real boy now?”
“You’re entirely too close to my balls for me to say anything but yes.”
He laughed as I looked at him hungrily. I wasn’t about to tell him, but he’d thrown me for a loop. I’d never felt this all-consuming kind of…want for someone before. It kept knocking me on my ass…like a blitz from a heavy hitter when you were a few steps from the end zone.
I marveled a little at how far we’d come. When we first met, I’d thought prickly Jesse was hot. But vulnerable Jesse? The one who trusted me enough to see even his most trivial of worries? He was so beautiful to me that it was hard to look away.
I struggled to refocus on something that didn’t involve getting Jesse naked. “Look, the bottom line is that the center is getting help and donations, and that means you can help more kids. Does it really matter why they did it?”
“I guess not,” he said begrudgingly.
I chuckled. “You look like a sulky kid.”
“I’ve got a decade on you.”
“Yeah, so you’ve mentioned a time or six,” I said lazily. “I wonder why you’re so determined to put distance between us?”
Because you want me as much as I want you. His resigned expression said he knew the origin of my question—pure rhetoric.
I took a risk and reached out, cupping his jaw with my hand. He watched me quietly, his eyes a little wary, but he didn’t move. That was as good as a green light to me. He inhaled swiftly as I brushed my thumb across his check.
“You ever gonna let me fuck you?”
Those green eyes flared as he took a step back, putting space between us. I took a step forward, closing the distance again. “Andrew,” he said warningly. “This isn’t the time or place—”
“We’re alone, aren’t we?” I slid my hand into his hair and gripped—not too hard, just enough to tilt his head up to mine. If he wanted to pull away, he could, and I wanted him to know that without words. “Even the custodian left an hour ago.”
Hamish had stuck his head in Jesse’s office and warned him not to work too hard before he shuffled off.
Jesse closed his eyes briefly and swallowed. When he opened them again, there was something unreadable there that made me frown. “Not like this,” he said, shaking loose.
For a few seconds, my heart dropped down to my toes. And then I got it. I raised an eyebrow as he flushed. A little tenderness wasn’t a fucking marriage proposal. But if he didn’t want soft and easy, then cool. Fast and rough worked for me, too.
Without warning, I pushed him, sending him backward. I was mindful of my own strength, yeah. But I wanted to wipe that arrogant little “I can take you or leave you” look off his gorgeous face. He hit the wall with an oof, his expression one of surprise. He blinked up at me for a few seconds before his mouth curved, those eyes glittering with something I couldn’t name.
“Better?” I asked as I closed the distance between us, turned on beyond belief.
“Much,” he said roughly, winding his hand around my neck.
He yanked my head down to his. I was hard-pressed not to whimper when my mouth met his in a bruising kiss. Fuck, I loved kissing Jesse. Could kiss him every day and not get enough. He tasted like sugar, probably from the cookies someone had left in the breakroom, and it went straight to my head.
I slid my hands down to that ass—that perfect, round ass—and squeezed. I lifted him clear on his toes as he controlled the kiss, groaning into his mouth. I wanted to touch and taste and fuck. But that would mean putting him down and I sure as hell wasn’t doing that. Instead, I turned so he was braced against the wall so I could rub against him. His mouth slid off mine as he groaned, and I kissed my way down his neck—soft, barely-there kisses.
He allowed it for a few moments before he pulled away. Right. Got it. Maybe next time he could roll around on a cactus first and then let me fuck him. Might be less prickly. I let him slide to the floor, but kept a hand on his hip in case he had any bright ideas of getting far.
No worries there. He looked up at me, his gaze clouded over with lust, about as close to pouting as I’d ever seen him. “Why?”
I laughed darkly as I attacked the button and zipper on his jeans. “Because I only have two hands and these need to come off.”
They were tight but not painted on, so I was able to get them below his hips…which was a good thing because I wasn’t above ripping them. I stopped and stared at the skimpy blue number. Seemed like the scrap of fabric was having trouble doing its primary function—containing that luscious ass.
“Really?” I demanded.
He arched a brow, looking slightly smug. Probably because he knew those skimpy things were made for melting brain cells. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I needed to run my underwear choices by you.”
Mouthy little shit. My mouth quirked as I looked my fill. I made a little circle with my finger and he huffed but made the spin so I could see the full picture.
“Are you done ogling?” He asked when he turned around, his cheeks—both sets—bright pink.
I didn’t apologize. That underwear was made for ogling. And since I was the only one tapping that ass, then he’d worn them for me. I worked them and his jeans down to his knees, and pulled him over to his desk, his cock bobbing as he walked.
“What’re you—”
I pushed him flat to the desk and he let out an oof of surprise. A few folders slid off and the contents spilled on the floor as he tried to lift up. “You motherfu—”
I pushed him back down with a little chuckle. God forbid his precious filing system get slightly messed up. I took his dick in my hand and started to stroke. He bucked and muttered something like, too much, but I wasn’t about to take it easy on him.
He reached back and grabbed my arm…but not like he wanted me to stop. Almost like he was trying to anchor himself. He bucked in my fist as I licked and sucked my way up his neck, behind his ear, and then right at the juncture of his neck where he was so sensitive. He was flushed, looking unbelievably aroused and maybe a little startled that I could find his secret spots…which was so obliviously Jesse. Of course I paid attention to the things that made him fly.
The sight of him spread out like that on his desk, boneless and ready to be thoroughly debauched, that plump ass ready for the taking, pushed me close to the edge. My hands were shaking as I fumbled in my pocket for supplies. I tossed a condom next to his face, and he leaned up enough to make short work of opening it. He half-turned, ready to roll it on me, but I shook my head.
“Can’t,” I said as I pushed down my pants and my boxers to my knees. “Can’t have you touch me right now.”
His mouth quirked. “You want me bad, huh?”
“Shut up, Fox,” I said, huffing out a laugh. When I pulled out the pillow packet of lube, it was his turn to look amused. Even as I coated two fingers, I demanded, “What?”
“You’re a manwhore, that’s what.”
“I carried them for you!”
“We haven’t done this before.”
“A man isn’t allowed to hope?”
He laughed…until I was knuckles deep inside of him, working two fingers as he gasped and groaned. He pressed his torso flat on the desk and worked his feet apart even farther. I wished I had more time to explore and drive him crazy on my fingers alone. But if I didn’t get inside him in the next few seconds, it would be game over.
