I sigh, wanting to push away the reminder that I did, in fact, already say that today. I said it and immediately thought it wasn’t true.
That I loved him instead.
I know I love him.
But I’m still having a tough time believing he’ll ever be able to love me back in quite the same way.
“It’s dark. Let’s stop here again for the night.” Jasper flicks the signal light to turn into Rose Hill, his voice bleeding exhaustion. We’re only a few hours from home, but he’s right. It’s dark and our conversation has fallen into a quiet, tired lull after ten hours of driving.
All I can think about is sex.
How I went from dancing so rigorously and working such long hours that it barely ever crossed my mind to being feral for it is really a wonder to behold.
I decide I will now refer to this phenomenon as The Jasper Gervais Effect.
He’ll edge you for a day and turn you into a happy desperate ho! That could be his tagline.
I’m living, squirming, tense proof of that at this point.
When we pull back into the Rose Hill Inn, we park along the tree-lined side of the parking lot to accommodate the empty trailer behind us.
Suddenly I’m desperate for fresh air. The truck smells too much like mint and eucalyptus bodywash. I’m also jittery and agitated and—
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jasper’s voice cuts me off as I reach for the door handle to escape the suffocating sexual tension between us.
I startle and look back at him. “Out.” I hike a thumb over my shoulder.
“Not a chance. I think we’ve waited long enough.” He crooks a finger at me and then fists my sweater, gently tugging me toward him. With a heavy sigh, I scramble over the center console and straddle his lap, just like that day on the runaway lane.
His fingers stroke up the sides of my face, over my cheekbones, hooking into my hair and pushing it back behind my ears. “You have no idea how lovely you are. How distracting you are. How much I’ve loved watching you follow my directions all day,” he murmurs, eyes tracing my every feature while his rock-hard cock drives up into my ass. “I want to try this again. No rush. Nowhere to be. No near miss car crash. Just you and me.” His voice is so soft, his hands so tender.
“Just you and me,” I whisper back.
“I want your eyes on mine when you come in my lap.” He cups my head delicately and I drop my lips to his hungrily. His steely arms wrapping me up. Somehow fitting around me so perfectly. Making me feel so safe. So cherished.
I melt against him. My hands roam his chest, his throat, his hair. Touching him freely is such a pleasure.
When he pulls away he removes my pants, one leg at a time. Followed by my underwear. He undresses me and soaks in the sight, lit only by the glow of the headlights. Every brush of his fingers is reverent, every look is loaded.
He kisses me first, and my chest aches with the sweetness of it. His lips are firm and soft all at once.
As he reclines his seat I help him get rid of his pants, rubbing his cock and cupping his balls, making sure I sneak a hand under his shirt to run my fingers over the ballerina he got just for me.
“I don’t know how I went so long without you,” he murmurs, pushing my hair behind my ear and cradling my skull. “I never want to go without you again,” he adds, fisting himself and swiping the thick head of his cock through my core.
“You’ll never have to,” I whisper as I kiss him back, trying to match his rawness with my own.
“Promise me.” His eyes bore into my mine, and I nod.
“I promise.”
Then he notches himself inside of me, pushing in just an inch and still my back bows toward him. My body bends so willingly under his touch as he holds me in position, and when I slowly push myself down his steely girth, feeling every inch of him, he whispers, “Sloane,” with a hitch in his voice.
Our bodies meld to each other in the dark truck. We start out lazily. Lovingly. But soon our hands and kisses become frenzied. My body feels ready to burst.
“Jasper, I’m going to—”
He grips my chin and pulls my face a hairbreadth apart from his. “Rub your clit, honey. Come for me.”
When he exhales, I inhale his breath. He’s inside me in so many ways. I don’t even know if he realizes.
His cock hits that spot, I brush my fingers over my swollen bundle of nerves, and I shatter, eyes locked on his. “Ah! Fuck. Jasper.”
“Sloane,” he growls, right as his hand drops to my throat and he kisses me fiercely.
My name is on his lips as he spills himself inside me, sounding just a little bit undone.
Just a little bit out of control.
And it gives me just a little bit of hope that Jasper Gervais might love me the way I love him too.
29
Jasper
Jasper: We’re home safe. How is Beau?
Harvey: Oh, good. Relieved you two are back. Beau is in good spirits, all things considered. He wants to call you. He’s sleeping right now though.
Jasper: We’re here. Anytime. When will he come home?
Harvey: It might be awhile. He’s in good hands here.
The first thing I did when we got back to the big empty house at Wishing Well Ranch was drag Sloane up to my teenage bedroom and fuck her while she wore my jersey.
It’s all I’ve thought about since she waltzed out of that dressing room wearing it with a teasing little grin. Harder for her to grin with my dick in her mouth. Major fan of the satisfied smile she shot me after though.
Then we passed out, limbs tangled in the tiny bed. Dead to the world. It seems like it has been months since her almost-wedding day.
Now we’re unpacking our bags and enjoying a nice cold Buddyz Best, Sloane is downstairs starting the laundry, and I’m feeling really fucking domestic and happy about the entire situation as I fold the basket she just brought up.
I can see us doing this forever. Taking trips together. Napping together. Doing chores together. Me walking up and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, just because I can, and then carrying on with my shit. Even doing boring stuff is infinitely less boring with Sloane by my side.
“Jas! Harvey is FaceTiming! Can I answer?” she calls from downstairs.
I freeze midway through folding the ugly T-shirt Cade gave me shit for wearing.
“Yes!” I call back before dropping the shirt and striding out of the room, covering as much ground as possible without running. We’ve gotten the odd text update from Harvey but not a lot of information. I know he’s trying not to worry us, but the less-is-more strategy really isn’t reassuring with the way my brain works.
“Hiiiii!” I hear Sloane’s sunny voice coming from the kitchen as I approach her from behind. “Look at you, Beau! God, it’s good to see you.”
When I get close enough to see the screen, my chest cracks wide open. Harvey is sitting beside Beau and they’re both grinning back at Sloane.
The closer I get, I can see how thin Beau looks, that his expression is a bit drawn. But he’s there. Breathing. Talking. Alive.
“Oh! There he is!” Sloane can see me in the little rectangle at the top of the screen as I approach. I push up close behind her, and without even thinking, I wrap one arm around her stomach and take my friend—my brother—in.
He and I are tight, but we aren’t sappy. Beau isn’t a sappy guy. Sometimes I think he’s just as dark as I am and just hides it better. Aka, he isn’t a sullen dick when he has a bad day.