A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, its characters, and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks to Beate73 and gypsysue for betaing.
He's staring at me. My skin's crawling under his gaze and I'm struggling with the desire to ask him what the fuck his problem is.
However, that would be rude. I pride myself on being decent to others, but this dude's pushing me.
Bite thy tongue, Edward.
"Can I help you with something?" I ask, not bothering to look up from my book.
"I'm not sure. Can you?"
Shit, wrong choice of words.
Of course, I have to look up at him now. In doing so, I make a show of removing my glasses and pinching the bridge of my nose before raising an eyebrow and glaring at him.
Instead of intimidating him, which was my intention, I amuse him, apparently. He's wearing a half smirk and his eyes are alight with mischief.
Hell. This guy's into me. Now, how do I put it nicely that I am very much not interested?
"Well, let's see. If you need directions somewhere, I am not your man, since I just moved here. If you need money for a coffee or something, I am not your man, since my wallet is now empty. If you need something more involved than simple conversation, I am definitely not your man, since I am not a fairy," I spit out.
So much for being decent. I can't help it. This guy is completely screwing with my head; the way he's staring me down is intimidating.
He presses his lips together and glances off to the side for a moment. This is the point where he throws a hissy fit and stalks off, I imagine.
"You know what? I gathered as much. You know what first tipped me off…" he nods at me. Probably wants my name.
Like an ass I give it.
"Edward," I offer, still glaring.
"You know what first tipped me off that you weren't a fairy, Edward?" His voice is cool and calm. Maybe he's going to skip the hissy fit.
"I'm sure you're gonna tell me, so go ahead." Jesus, where is this disdain coming from? I'm amazed at how much this man has rattled me.
"Well, first, you don't have wings. Second, you're not all aglitter with pixie dust. Third, no flashy, sparkly figure skating outfit. Fourth, since you just gave me your name, I now know that it isn't anything close to Tinkerbell."
He leans forward and rapidly taps his temple with his index finger. "You see, I'm smart like that."
"Listen, man. I didn't mean to-" I begin before he cuts me off.
"Don't worry about it. I get it. You're not gay. I am. That doesn't, contrary to what you clearly believe, make me a fairy. I am every bit a man, just like the next guy with the proper anatomy. I don't wear makeup, dress in drag, or sound anything like a chick. That's just not who I am. While we're at it, gay men who do those things are no less a man than you are either, Edward."
I feel about two inches tall right now, because normally, I'm not prone to snap judgments or making hateful comments. For some reason, this man has gotten completely under my skin.
"Being gay means that I can appreciate a beautiful man, which is exactly what I was doing. I apologize if I offended you." He's now standing up and all I can do is stare at him, slack-jawed.
He thinks I'm beautiful? Nobody has ever used that word to describe me.
"This has been an enlightening experience. You see, I learned something in the last thirty seconds that I didn't know five minutes ago."
I can only raise an eyebrow to urge him to continue.
"I learned that you're an asshole."
I flinch at that. It was certainly not the first time that word has been used to describe me, but coming from him, it hurt for some reason. Almost as if he wanted to make me feel the hurt I inflicted on him by being a bigot.
He rakes his eyes across me, and this time, I don't flinch.
"Albeit, an incredibly beautiful asshole, but an asshole all the same." He now slings a duffel bag over his shoulder and starts to walk past me towards the door of the coffee shop.
He stops dead in his tracks right beside me. I still haven't been able to bring myself to vocalize my apology or indicate in any way that I regret being the asshole he believes me to be.
Putting a hand on my table, he leans down and brings his lips to my ear.
"However, if you believe I've made an error in judgment, you are more than welcome to prove me wrong, Edward." He breathes these words into my ear and my skin breaks out in goose bumps.
Christ, I hope he doesn't know what he just did to me.
"And don't think I can't see these," he says before lightly brushing his index finger on my arm, just below the sleeve of my t-shirt.
"Or this," he says before barely rubbing my cheek with the pad of his thumb.
Holy hell! I'm blushing?
He chuckles again and heads for the door.
What the hell is wrong with me?
The door of the coffee shop slams shut behind me and I breathe in deeply through my nose.
I was expecting a smart-ass comment to come out of those pretty lips when I responded to his question, but I never imagined a foul, homophobic remark would slip out. Seriously, how hard is it to say, "Sorry, dude. I don't swing that way?" Of course, I should have manned up and said something to get his attention instead of just sitting there unabashedly staring at him. That would unnerve anyone, I guess. Still, he could have just as easily told me to fuck off instead of inferring that I was a fairy. What an ass.
But Christ, he was hot!
I was already sitting at my table watching out the door for my friend, Emmett to arrive when I saw Edward leave the coffee counter with his purchase to sit down at a table in front of me with his back to the door.
He was wearing one of those t-shirts they give away when you donate blood. It was white with a cartoon chicken and a question mark, and the blood bank's logo beneath the illustration. He was showing the world that he's obviously not chicken about giving blood.
Of course, the fact that he was a blood donor should have been a tip-off that he wasn't gay, but that's neither here nor there.
He sat down with a paperback book and a cup of straight black coffee. Personally, I don't understand why someone would come to a specialty coffee shop and order plain black coffee. I'm one to speak, though, since I was not even drinking coffee.
I had to wince as I watched him gulp the steaming beverage. Did this man feel no pain? Of course not. He was a blood donor. They poke needles into your arm that a VW Beetle can drive through, for Christ's sake.
I couldn't help but grin at him and watch him rake his fingers through his messy, auburn hair and turn another page of his book. Sitting where I was for several minutes, I drank in everything I could see of him. What I wouldn't give to be the one to run my fingers through his hair, and hell, if his head happened to be below my waist while I was doing it, you definitely wouldn't hear me complaining. And don't even get me started on those pretty, pouty lips.
He knew I was staring, too. Every so often, his green eyes darted up over his glasses to briefly meet my gaze. I started to say something but when I saw him shifting in his seat, I stopped myself. I couldn't help but wonder if he was shifting in his seat for the same reason I was in mine. If he was even halfway attracted to me, this would be the best fucking day ever.
But alas, that mouth.
I was rather pleased with myself at how I managed to completely unnerve him before leaving the coffee shop, though. I couldn't resist the urge to whisper something even remotely suggestive in his ear, and watching those tiny buds of goose bumps rise on his skin and the delightful rush of blood in his cheeks made my dick twitch.
No time to think about that right now as Emmett pulls up in his Jeep. My neighbor, Jacob is riding shotgun and they're both flashing their trademark shit-eating grins at me.
I can't help but smile back because I know what they are about to ask.
"I don't care how big y'all smile. This is flag football, not tackle. I'm not changing the game just because you two behemoths can't suppress the urge to throw someone to the ground."
Jacob pouts and forces his lower lip to tremble for effect.
"Jasper Hale! How many times do I have to tell you not to make Jacob here cry in public? You have any idea how hard it is to explain that to onlookers?" Emmett nods in the direction of the coffee shop door which is now slightly ajar. Following his gaze I see Edward standing with one hand on the door handle and the other in his hair as he locks eyes with me.
Maintaining eye contact with Edward but speaking to Emmett, I say, "Just tell them that it's nothing compared to how hard he'll cry when I whoop his ass on the field." Winking at Edward, I toss my duffel bag in the back seat of the Jeep before hopping in after it.
I feel like a total asshat. Really. Why am I so frustrated over someone checking me out? Would I have been that pissed off if a woman was checking me out in the same way? Of course not. Would I have called her a whore? Hell no. Why is this any different? Why does it make the hackles on the back of my neck stand on end? Why do I have a hard on?
Whoa. Hold up. I have a hard on. A man admitted to admiring me and whispered seductively in my ear. I'm sure his intention was to get a rise out of me, but I'm not so sure this is what he intended. Or was it? Why do I have a fucking hard on?
I remain in my seat, glaring at my betraying cock and think to myself, "Where the hell were you when Tanya was wondering what the fuck was wrong with me?" This was the reason for our failed relationship. My not-so-little soldier would no longer "rise to the occasion", and sex between her and I became non-existent.
I chalk this crap up to my not-so-little-soldier having a mind of its own and try not to dwell on it. What I do try to dwell on is whatever can make him sound the retreat. I mentally flip through unappetizing images in my head: my grandmother in a swimsuit, STD photos from high school health class, Rosie O'Donnell a la Exit to Eden.
That did it.
I can now safely stand up and leave the coffee shop without an embarrassing bulge in the front of my jeans.
The blood hasn't completely returned to my brain apparently as I absentmindedly go to open the door to leave and stop to stare at the object of my…whatever. He's standing right outside talking to two impossibly huge men in a Jeep.
Flag Football. They're talking about Flag Football. And the angelic anomaly that has me so riled up is named Jasper Hale.
Did I just call him an "angelic anomaly"?
Well, I'm comfortable enough with myself to know an attractive man when I see one. I'm just not one to blurt it out like some people do. However, this Jasper truly does have some angelic qualities about him. He has a halo of loose, unruly, blond curls about his head, vibrant blue eyes, and a pair of beautiful, plump lips. This is where the angel ends and the man begins. He's about my height, just over six feet tall and dressed in a white muscle shirt, black gym shorts, and black and white sneakers. His arms are corded, lithe, and muscular and he has trim, cut legs.
My not-so-little-soldier now knows how to play a fucking bugle. What the fuck?
Rosie O'Donnell. Rosie O'Donnell in black leather. Grandma in black leather.
Thank you, sweet Jesus, the retreat is sounded once again.
The driver of the Jeep, a grizzly bear with short, curly, black hair and eyes that rivaled the brightness of Jasper's, makes some comment about Jasper causing the overgrown Boy Scout riding shotgun to cry. In the same breath, he indicates to Jasper that I'm eavesdropping.
To my horror, Jasper turns around and meets my gaze. Smiling, he says, "Just tell them that it's nothing compared to how hard he'll cry when I whoop his ass on the field." Then he winks at me.
He goes from talking about an impending beat down in a game of football to flirting with me. And I was nasty to this guy. I can only imagine how he would treat me if I had been civil to him.
My dumb ass, of course, can't say nor do anything in response, and I simply watch Jasper throw his bag in the back of the Jeep and jump in after it. Before it even registers with me that he's leaving, the Jeep peels out of the parking lot.
Why do I even give a shit?
What if Tanya was right?
I glance at the back of my hand and half expect my skin to be all aglitter with pixie dust.
Wouldn't that be some shit if I started sparkling in the sun?
I try not to think of the beautiful dickhead from the coffee shop as I take the snap from Emmett. At the same time, I'm wondering how much better our game would be if Edward were playing Center. That would have to be a very private game, I'm sure. I would definitely want to rip more than a flag off of his body.
It's nearly an impossible feat to push thoughts of him out of my head and look for my wide receiver at the same time.
Ah-there he is!
Mike's bouncing around like a fucking fool waving his hands in the air, letting the whole world know that he's open. However, he's really close to the end zone. This will be an easy touchdown, if only he would just shut the fuck up.
I throw the pass, a perfect spiral, and he catches it with an, "Oof!" in the gut. He has four, maybe five steps to take for a touchdown. That's when Jacob appears out of nowhere and lifts poor Mike off the ground before yanking off a bright red flag from his hip.
"Who's yer daddy, Newton?" he shouts, still holding Mike off the ground.
"Put me down, fucker!" Mike yells.
"I'll put you down if you agree to introduce me to your little sister, T.O.!"
"What makes you think Nessie would be interested in you?"
I decide to put my two cents in, since there's no touchdown in sight with Mike as our wide receiver. "The fact that she has to run off and change her panties every time Jake comes by is a pretty good indicator, I think."
"And you can go fuck yourself, Hale. Whatever, Jake. I'll do it," Mike concedes.
I have no idea what has pissed Mike off more: the fact that he missed an easy touchdown, or that Jacob is all of a sudden interested in his sister.
Jacob finally releases Mike from his death grip and lets him unceremoniously fall on his ass.
The jovial giant throws his head back and laughs. "I'll be stopping by your house after the game. Make sure to tell Nessie that panties are optional," he says to Mike with a wink.
Mike can only sit and shake his head in defeat.
We lost the game. No surprise since Jacob was only one of several guys on his team who was a massive growling linebacker and willing to pounce on anyone who thought about carrying the ball. Our only brawn was Emmett, and he was rendered useless after my sister, Rosalie, decided to show up and play cheerleader.
Emmett dropped me off at my place. Jacob planned to head over to Mike's and he decided that he would shower and change there before Nessie showed up later. No doubt, Emmett would be heading over to Rosalie's pretty soon. Even Mike had Jessica waiting for him at home.
I have Seth. I certainly don't mind coming home to him every evening; after all, he is beyond adorable and amazingly good company. However, he's a little hairy for my taste and his breath smells like ass. Chances are the reason behind the latter was because he just got done licking his.
Seth's my dog. He's an Siberian husky I adopted from the shelter as a pup, and he's been with me for a little over a year. It took a lot of hard work and patience to get him to come out of his shell and learn to trust me, but he's come a long way since his stay at the shelter.
As much as I adore my dog, right now I would much rather enjoy the company of someone else. As I run my fingers through Seth's thick coat, I wish I was caressing the tresses of Edward's messy mop, instead.
Why this man has me so keyed up is beyond me. Of course, he's incredibly gorgeous but how can I be so worked up over a man who's so close minded? Surely, it has something to do with the way he looked at me right before I left with Emmett and Jacob. He looked as if he wanted to apologize. His eyes were almost anguished instead of hateful like they had been just moments before. His lips were pursed as if he were having an internal conflict that was emphasized by the furrow of his brow.
I wanted to smooth the furrow with my fingers but could only smile at him and wink as I left.
Shaking it off, I decide that I'd better take a shower. Sweating from playing football was one thing; sweating from losing at football was worse.
Hopping in the shower, I let the scalding hot water pound my aching muscles. It quickly becomes apparent, however, that there is one aching part of my body that can not be assuaged by the water.
Against my better judgment, I begin to imagine Edward in the shower with me. He's standing behind me with his chin on my shoulder and his arms around my waist, stroking my belly.
"Do you want me to touch you, Jasper?" he whispers huskily into my ear.
I'm already stroking myself thinking of the purr of his acidic, yet velvet voice in my head. Instinctively, I nod my head in affirmation and imagine his firm grip on my cock.
I imagine him rubbing his thumb over my slit, covering the head with the precum that has leaked out. His hand then nearly becomes a blur as he pumps me, the water from the showerhead and my own natural lubricant allowing his fingers and palm to glide over me with ease.
"I want you to come for me, Jasper. Come with my fist around your cock," he growls.
In just minutes, I come quickly and with enough force to make me cry out. I'm pretty sure it was his name that fell from my lips.
I rest my head against the shower wall for several minutes to make sure my knees will not give out on me. Finally, I gather enough composure to wash the sweat and dirt from my hair and my body, not to mention the mess I just made on the shower wall.
Christ, this boy is gonna be the death of me.
Standing on my front porch, I momentarily try to collect, or rather, erase my thoughts. I'm all stretched and ready to head out for my run.
Good Lord, it's hot!
Lose the shirt, Edward.
I whip my t-shirt over my head and open my front door to toss it inside; I'll worry about it later. It's hard enough running in this oppressive heat without extra fabric clinging to my skin.
I'm as comfortable as I'm going to get so I set my MP3 player to shuffle, crank up the volume and situate my ear buds. If some pounding industrial rock can't scream away the thoughts that have been plaguing me for the past twenty-four hours, nothing can.
Starting at a light jog down my block, I decide I'm going to be a bit adventurous and explore my neighborhood a bit, taking random turns at a whim. In short order, my mind becomes cloudy and I struggle to keep my thoughts on the haphazard course I've set so I don't get my dumb ass lost.
Sweat begins to bead on my forehead and before long, starts trickling down into my eyes. I reach up with my forearm to wipe it away.
Much like I did last night right before I finally went to bed.
I did something I have not done in many months since the joy had been sapped out and I stopped getting relief from the act long before. I masturbated.
I masturbated while thinking of Jasper Hale. And fuck it felt good. I imagined his soft, pink lips wrapped around my cock and humming against my skin as he sucked me senseless.
That little episode was one of three before I finally left the house to run today. Earlier this morning I imagined the warmth and squeeze I would feel as I took him from behind in my shower. Thirty minutes ago, I jacked off furiously to the thought of him holding me down on my bed, thrusting hard and deep into me while looking me in the eye and calling me beautiful.
Hey, if I'mgoing to explore the unknown phenomenon that gives me an erection on command, I might as well go all out.
And now, my not-so-little soldier apparently has received said command and is making it impossible to run at full speed. I bring myself to a halt and bend over at the waist to catch my breath. Upon standing, I realize I have no idea where the fuck I am.
That's what I get for dwelling on that angelic anomaly.
God damn it. What street is this?
I dial down the volume on my MP3 player, because for some reason unknown to me, making your surroundings quiet makes it easier to see shit. Never understood that logic and it sure as shit isn't helping me now.
I quickly glance around and don't recognize a blessed thing. Nothing grabs my attention as familiar. However, the growling directly behind me certainly has my attention.
I hesitantly turn to face the source of the menacing growl and nearly piss myself. I'm looking at a ginormous beast with a short, silver speckled coat and yellow eyes that bore right through me. Clearly, he's not happy. He takes a step forward in my direction and I start to hear a small voice in the back of my head repeating some incoherent babble over and over. I can't make it out because I'm cemented where I stand, terrified of making just one wrong move and diverting my attention from the monstrosity that is staring me down.
The voice in my head starts to get louder and I begin to think I can make out the chant that is looping through my skull. In fact, I can hear it clearly now.
Run! Run, fucker, RUN!
Turning around, I sprint full throttle down the sidewalk and ignore the stitch that's starting to rip into my side while my lungs begin to burn.
Why the hell isn't anyone outside right now? Cujo's hot on my heels and the only thing I have with which to defend myself is my fucking I-can't-afford-a-real-iPod-MP3 Player. I wonder if anyone will come outside if I start screaming. It's fucking Saturday! Doesn't anyone do yard work on the weekends here?
I'll never know if I don't at least try.
In a panicky wheeze, I yell, "Help! Someone HELP!"
I'm still racing down the sidewalk and Cujo's practically snapping at my ass.
I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die…
Where the fuck is everyone in this ghost town?
Sweet salvation, someone has a fenced in yard. Clearly Cujo's owners failed to see the need for one. And right now I am so fucking grateful I ran hurdles in high school, because I am so not trying to fuck with a gate right now.
Gathering one last burst of speed, I leap up and, thankfully, over the picket fence. Adrenaline rushes come in handy, apparently because this fence came up to just below my shoulder.
The fall is a bit rough, though and I knock the wind out of myself when I land on the freshly cut grass. It now appears as though all the smart people do their yard work early in the morning before the sun is at its angriest.
No matter. Cujo's on the side of the fence that I'm not on. All's right with the world again.
Of course, just thinking those words renders them untrue as I now hear growling above me. I'm lying on my back trying to will my lungs to suck in oxygen and I'm looking up into the eyes of what appears to be a pissed off husky. The moment he bares his teeth, I find myself pushed up on my hands and crab-crawling back towards the fence, where Cujo is still trying to gain entry.
"Sweet Jesus, give me a break!"
Just as the next-door neighbor bursts out of his front door clad in only a towel, the owner of the property on which I'm now trespassing bolts out of his front door. He's wearing only a pair of khaki cargo shorts and he's barefoot. More importantly he's wielding a baseball bat, poised to knock one out of the park.
It's Jasper. Of all the yards I could have leaped into this afternoon, it had to be his.
Recognition dawning on his face, he lowers the bat. "Well, you have to ask me nicely first."
My heartbeat starts to race again and I forget all about the fact that his dog is ready to pounce, a canine freak show is trying to chew through the fence to get to me, and the neighbor is laughing hysterically.
"Seth. Come, boy," Jasper commands and the dog trots proudly to his side and sits at his master's heel. Jasper looks past me at the beast bouncing at the fence and shakes his head.
To my extreme horror, he walks calmly up to the gate and releases the latch to let the monster in. I'm paralyzed where I sit, and I'm desperately trying to convince my body to get up and race for the porch.
"What are you doing?" I scream.
Jasper looks over at me and laughs.
Cujo bounds in and comes dangerously close to bowling Jasper over. He stands on his hind legs and places his front paws on Jasper's shoulders. There are only a few inches in height difference between the two. Christ, that dog is huge.
The dog makes me look like a total pansy-ass as he begins to drown Jasper in a frenzy of fierce licks to the face. Unfazed, Jasper lifts his knee to nudge the dog in the belly.
"That thing's name is Paul? As in Newman?" Who the hell names a dog "Paul"?
"As in Bunyon," the neighbor responds. "The colossal lumberjack dog." It finally dawns on me that Jasper's neighbor is the massive Boy Scout he was talking to in front of the coffee shop yesterday. And the fucker's still laughing. I fail to find any of this shit funny.
"What the fuck is it?" I ask.
Jasper begins to speak but Towel-Boy cuts him off.
"Eight kinds of crazy."
Jasper shoots him a piercing look. "He is a Siberian Husky and Mastiff mix. How his parents keep track of that information I'll never know since they can't even seem to keep track of their dog." He gets Paul to sit and is now scrubbing the dog's ears with his hands.
"Seth, Paul, inside," Jasper commands, pointing towards the house.
"Wait, I thought you just said, um, is he yours?" I'm as confused as hell right now.
Both dogs race happily towards the door and bound inside.
All of a sudden a gangly, and what appears to be, hung-over man with a blond ponytail races up to Jasper's fence and he's out of breath. "Have you seen, Paul? He's loose."
"Yeah, I've seen him. He's inside. I told you what would happen next time he got loose, didn't I? He's mine now. He's no longer your responsibility." Turning to his towel-clad neighbor, he asks, "Officer Black, wanna back me up here?"
"He's right, James. You know damn well you don't give two shits about that dog. Paul needs a good home and he will have one here. Go home and I won't have to charge you with negligence."
James throws his hands up in surrender with a resigned smile on his face. "Fine. He's yours, Hale. Good luck," he says with a mock salute and heads back down the sidewalk.
The giant cop turns to Jasper and smiles. "You've done our neighborhood a great service. Now there's little to no chance of Paul getting out and terrorizing the locals," he laughs, nodding in my direction.
I'm still sitting on my ass with what I am sure is a look of stupidity on my face.
Just then, a sweet, sultry voice calls out from Officer Black's front porch. She's a vision. A petite gal with exquisitely rounded curves dressed in a black cotton cropped cami and unbelievably tiny matching boy shorts. Glancing at her braless bust, I can see she is either chilly or desperately wanting her companion to get his ass inside the house. She has chocolate brown eyes and hair to match, and is currently leaning face first into the doorway, hiking her leg up against the frame and wiggling her bottom suggestively.
Staring at her intently, I will my body to react.
My not-so-little-soldier couldn't care less.
Jasper glances in my direction and I realize he caught me staring. The intent look he gives me causes the soldier to stir.
It's official. Tanya was right.
Officer Black turns around at the sound of her voice and has a look on his face that is all sorts of furious. He points at her with an angry finger but I quickly realize the whole bad-ass routine is in jest.
"Mrs. Jacob Black, you get your scorching little fanny back in that house! And I don't recall giving you permission to put any clothes on!" he shouts.
The vixen puts her back to the door frame and shimmies down to the floor. "I'm so sorry, Officer. Are you gonna have to cuff me?"
"Not if you don't get back in that house and strip, young lady! Don't make me tell you again!"
She hops up with a squeal and darts back through the door into the house.
I can't help but stare at this playful display with my mouth hanging open, and after Nessie raced back into Jacob's house, I can't contain my curiosity.
"What the hell, Jake? You just met her yesterday. Now she's spending the night and you're calling her your wife?"
I notice Edward has a hopelessly amused expression on his face.
That's right, ass. She's not his wife, but she is obviously spoken for.
Jacob's face is lit up like a six-year-old kid's on Christmas morning.
"Dude, I asked her to marry me last night. Hot damn I love this woman!"
"You have got to be shitting me, Jake." I can only wonder how long this is going to last.
"I'm as serious as a heart attack. The girl is my soul mate, I swear it," he says just before he bolts into his house and slams the door.
I can hear his thunderous footsteps and Nessie squealing in delight as he apparently chases her through the house.
Turning around, I see that Edward has still not moved from his spot on my lawn. From the way he's looking at me right now he has no idea how to proceed.
"So, Edward. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I have my hands on my hips and I'm looking down at the ground, but not at him. And let me tell you how easy that is. Just when I've resigned to purge him from my memory, he has the nerve to show up in front of my house all sweaty and topless.
I hear a "thump" and turn to see that he's now lying on his back, his knees still raised.
"I was out for a run. Got lost. Cujo chased me. I jumped your fence-" This is where I have to cut him off.
"I'm sorry. Did you just say you jumped my fence?" I look at him as he nods his head and I look at the fence in disbelief. How the hell did he clear that thing? For that matter, how did he outrun Paul? That schizo pup is a speed demon.
Apparently, Clark Kent is attempting to take a nap on my grass.
"You aren't seriously gonna fall asleep there are you, Edward?"
I have a perfectly good bed as long as you don't mind a little company.
I turn towards the house and call back to him over my shoulder. "You're welcome to come inside if you want."
"Do I have your word the dogs will behave?" he calls back to me.
Laughing, I answer, "You have my word the dogs will behave."
I walk inside and moments later, much to my delight – or dismay, I'm not sure which – Edward follows me.
"Want some water?" I ask before I throw a hand towel at him. He's covered in sweat; I should have thrown him a bath towel. Or licked the sweat off him. That may have been too forward, though.
"Please," he replies, scrubbing his face and hair with the towel.
I fill a glass with ice water and hand it to him. What he does next nearly makes me come undone.
Edward pops an ice cube in his mouth right before taking the glass, already forming condensation, and rubbing it across his face. His mouth is slightly open and I can see him use his tongue to shift the ice cube around inside. I have to suppress a groan as he then drags the glass down his throat. Finally, mercifully, he crunches the ice cube in his mouth and drains the glass.
I'm brought out of my lust-filled daze when he speaks.
"I got married when I was twenty-two. Two and a half years later, we were in divorce court. The whole shebang was finalized two months ago."
He looks up at me to gauge my reaction. I say nothing because I'm sure he's not looking for a verbal response.
"Six months before we split, we started having…problems. I could no longer make her happy. Well, I could make her happy, but there was one important part of me that refused to get in the game, if you will."
"You couldn't get it up," I say. I then tap my temple with my index finger, reminiscent of our conversation yesterday. It has the desired effect; he laughs.
"Somehow I knew you were smart like that," he says, flashing a crooked grin at me.
Good God, that grin is sexy.
"Since up until then, we had a pretty active sex life, we thought there was something medically wrong. Went to the doctor, tried a few different medications, but nothing had the desired effect. She of course started to think that I was no longer attracted to her or that I was having an affair." He paused before swallowing hard. The bob of his Adam's apple was pronounced.
"Then she became convinced that I was gay."
I raised my eyebrow at him. After a brief pause, I ask, "Did she call you a fairy?"
"She called me a faggot, actually." He's now looking down at his shoes. "We had a huge fight which included me calling her a conceited bitch because she had the nerve to think that just because I couldn't get it up for her that I was suddenly into guys. I moved out that night. The next time we saw each other was in a courthouse."
"Sorry to hear that, man." It sounds trite but I can't think of anything else to say.
He shrugs. "I couldn't stand the thought that she might be right. That I might be gay."
"Because that would make you less of a man?" There goes that mouth again.
"Don't go putting words in my mouth, Jasper. That's not what I meant," he growled. "If she were right, it would mean that our whole relationship meant nothing. Our vows meant nothing. And she believed that I married her to hide from who I really was. That I never really loved her. That, Jasper, is why I couldn't bear the thought.
"When I noticed you looking at me yesterday, it was like Tanya was throwing my failure in my face all over again. I'm truly not a hateful person, and I never meant to offend you." He looks at me, his green eyes pleading.
I must look like an idiot just standing there because I can't form words; I don't know what to say.
"I hope you can forgive me, Jasper. I know you meant no harm and I know you didn't deserve the way I treated you. I want you to know that's not who I truly am."
I smile and try to lighten up the situation. "No harm done, Edward. It's cool, really. I challenged you yesterday to prove me wrong about what I thought of you and you did. No worries."
He smiles back at me before draining the water that collected in his glass from the melting ice cubes.
"So, what can I do to make it up to you?" he asks.
Sweet Jesus, he did not just ask me that question.
I decide that joking is the best course of action here.
"Hmmm. Well, I really love Mexican food," I offer, grinning at him.
His eyes light up and he grins. "That's great, because I can make some fucking awesome chicken quesadillas. You have dinner plans tonight?"
Wait. I was going to jokingly suggest he take me to the Tex-Mex place downtown and he's actually offering to make me dinner. Tonight.
"I was kidding, Edward. You don't have to do that. We're square, I promise." The last thing I need is him going overboard trying to prove himself. I would certainly have trouble sleeping then, and not because of guilt.
"Jasper, it's no trouble. I want to, honestly."
Obviously, he has no idea what he's doing to me, so I have to be blunt. I set my jaw and narrow my eyes at him. "Don't fuck with me."
He flinches at my words. I noticed when he did that yesterday that he had some degree of hurt in his eyes. It's even more evident now.
Quickly, I see the hurt change to anger. He narrows his eyes at me now.
"With everything I just said, what exactly indicated that I am fucking with you?" He snaps.
I snap right back. "You're trying to prove that you have nothing against homosexuals. Your wife was convinced you were gay and you want to prove her wrong by having a casual dinner with a gay man. I'm not an idiot, Edward. Christ, and I saw how you were gawking at Nessie out there. So I repeat: Don't. Fuck. With. Me." I feel tears burning in my eyes and I pray they don't betray me by falling. The cracking of my voice on the last word didn't help my cause, though.
"The cop's girlfriend? Jasper, I was just using her for one last shred of confirmation of what I already knew. Even as a gay man I know you can look at her and see that she is a hot piece. I was trying to force my body to react to her. I. Felt. Nothing."
I must be hearing things. This is a painful dream and I am going to wake up right after he says the words that I want him to say so badly.
"So, I'm gonna ask you again. And I pray that you give me a more inventive answer than, 'I love Mexican Food.' What can I do to make it up to you, Jasper?"
Please God, say something. Man up and say something!
Setting his glass on the counter, he saunters towards me. His loose hipped swagger makes me weak in the knees. He stops directly in front of me and I can't force myself to look him in the eye. I can't move but I'm trembling. Well, I guess that counts as movement, but I can't voluntarily do anything. Leaning forward, his voice barely above a whisper, he says, "Tell me what you want, Jasper. How will I know what you want if I don't hear the words?"
Fuck. I'm almost certain I can get off on just the sound of his voice.
My heart is pounding so hard and my vocal chords are so constricted, it's nearly painful for me to speak just six more words.
"Actions speak louder than words, Edward."
His breaths immediately turn ragged and he leans his forehead on my shoulder, tickling my skin with his hair. I then do what I have been fantasizing about nearly nonstop over the past twenty four hours. I reach up with one hand and run my fingers though his hair.
Fucking glorious. Beautiful. Even soaked with sweat, I decide my imagination did it absolutely no justice.
I feel him gently press his lips into my shoulder and I snap.
Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I pull his head back before crushing my lips to his.
Both of my hands are now in his hair, kneading his scalp. He whimpers against me before taking my bottom lip between his and lightly sucking as I mirror his actions with his top lip and groan into his mouth. He darts his tongue out to flick my bottom lip causing me to jump. My mouth momentarily opens as I gasp and Edward doesn't miss a beat; his tongue plunges into my mouth. With a hand on each side of my face, he tilts his head to deepen his delicious assault and my hands tighten in his hair as I gently tug on the silky, damp strands.
"Fuck," he whimpers against my mouth.
Letting go of his hair with one hand, I slide it down his back. When I reach the top of his shorts I wrap my arm around his waist to draw him flush against my body.
Holy shit is he hard! His erection is pressing against mine and I reflexively grind my hips into his.
"Mmm God, Jasper," he breathes.
Like a blow to the head, it hits me: I'm doing this to him, he's hard because of me; he wasn't just trying to prove something. He wants me.
And I want him just as bad.
I thrust my tongue back into his mouth and our kiss turns into a frantic consumption, our heads rapidly changing positions trying desperately to reach farther into each other's depths. Pulling back briefly, I nuzzle my face into his neck.
"So sweet. You taste even sweeter than I imagined you would." I then start to nibble on the skin below his jaw and am rewarded with a throaty moan.
"Jesus, Jasper. You thought about me?" he asks before thrusting his hips against mine, causing me to hiss against his neck.
In between kisses down his throat, I murmur, "I can't stop thinking about you. About touching you, tasting you, f-" I let my voice drop off before I get ahead of myself; I certainly don't want to scare him off now.
He grabs one of my knees and drags it up his hip, allowing him to grind his erection even harder against mine.
"What, Jasper? What were you about to say?" he asks breathlessly. Then pushing my head back away from him, he nips at my collarbone.
Shaking my head, I grit my teeth. He's killing me.
"No. Too much," I tell him.
He hikes my leg up higher on his hip and slides his hand up to grip my ass causing me to nearly collapse against him.
"Never too much, Jasper. Please tell me what you want. You may be surprised to know I want it, too." He's now dropping a trail of open-mouthed kisses down my chest.
My breaths are coming out in rapid pants. I can't think, let alone speak.
Capturing one of my nipples between his lips, he flicks it with his tongue, slowly at first and gradually picking up speed.
I've started inhaling through my nose in an attempt to keep from hyperventilating. Each breath brings Edward's scent deep inside me. Sweat, sun block, and a unique musk that can only be Edward, himself. Fucking delicious.
I finally gain enough of my senses to request that we change our location to a more comfortable one. "Bedroom," I rasp. Complete sentences are overrated at this point.
"Not until you tell me what you want. Then I'll go anywhere you want me." He has now switched to my other nipple. Christ, I could die a happy man right now.
How can I tell a man, who just all too recently discovered he was gay, that I want to lay him down on my bed and fuck him? Typically, I'm a versatile lover; my preferences tend to be compatible with my partner's. But right now, all I can think about is completely claiming this beautiful man before me. However, I'm pretty sure he would be reluctant to leave his comfort zone.
"What do you want to do, Jasper?" His lips are now back at my throat, the hand not gripping my leg is drifting up and down my side, making my breath catch on the upstroke. My hands are at his shoulders, holding on for dear life.
"Do you want me to suck your cock?" My breath catches so hard at the suggestion that I almost choke.
"How 'bout I fuck you, baby?" I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip.
Well, they call it a comfort zone for a reason, and he did call me "baby."
Bringing his mouth up to my ear, he takes my ear lobe into his mouth, sucking it past his teeth. I gasp, and immediately, my hands are back in his hair, tugging, causing him to whimper. He likes having his hair pulled. That is definitely good to know.
"Jasper, I think I know what you want. Want me to guess?" he breathes in my ear.
My head is now spinning and I can only nod and bite my lip.
"I think you wanna break me in. Am I right, baby? Do you wanna fuck me, Jasper?" He drops my leg that he had been holding to grip my erection through my shorts.
I wrap my arms around his neck and finally finding my voice, growl into his ear. "Yes, Edward I want to fuck you. I want you on your back in my bed, your legs wrapped around my hips as I bury myself deep inside you. You don't know how bad I want that."
He grips my face to kiss me again, sweeter than before. He then rests his forehead against mine. "I think I have a pretty good idea, because I want it just as bad. I was thinking of that very thing this morning before I left the house. I swear I never came so hard in my entire life."
My self-confidence is starting to raise a little, knowing that we're actually on the same page. My trembling has all but abated and I flash a huge grin at him before responding.
"Edward, I promise you're gonna be repeating those last words when I'm done with you."
Now he's the one trembling.
Holding his face in my hands, I ask, "Edward, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
He smiles that sexy crooked smile before responding. "More than okay. I can't begin to tell you just how bad I want you, Jasper. There's just something about you that's grabbed me and refusing to let go, and I swear to God, I don't want it to ever let go."
This boy can't be real, can he?
"Edward, I feel it, too. And right now, that very thing is grabbing me and all but dragging me to the bedroom." I can't help but chuckle and I'm relieved as he joins in my laughter.
"Bedroom, Jasper. Now."
I grab his hand and lead him up the stairs to the master bedroom. It feels like we're a couple of teenagers who finally got the parents' house to ourselves.
Before I even clear the doorway, Edward whips me around to kiss me again, all sweetness gone. This is pure want, desire, need. I then turn him around and playfully shove him backwards on the king sized bed. He's now lying on his back with his legs dangling from the bed, toes barely brushing the floor. I make quick work of taking off his sneakers and socks and I can hear him panting in anticipation.
Finally, the prize. I undo the drawstring of his black running shorts and then grip the waistband to draw the garment off him as he lifts his hips to help me.
Fuck. He's going commando.
Christ, is there a part of this man that isn't beautiful? His glorious cock is fully engorged to the point of bursting. I delight in the way it twitches as I breathe against it. Looking up at him, I see his head is drawn off the bed to watch me. "I'll bet that this tastes even better than your mouth, Edward."
"Fuck," he whimpers.
The head is glistening with precum and I can't stop myself from swiping the sensitive skin with my tongue. His muscular thighs are shaking and his arms bent at the elbows, hands raised and rhythmically clasping at air. Reaching up, I take his hands and place them on either side of my head. Realizing that I want him to hold my head as I suck him off, he grips handfuls of my hair. Looking up at him through my eyelashes, I see him biting his bottom lip waiting for my next move. Keeping my eyes focused on him, I lower my head to take his entire length in my mouth. The grip he has on my hair intensifies until it is nearly excruciating but the sounds that come from his mouth erase any discomfort his grip is causing.
My eyes have rolled so far back in my skull I doubt I'll ever see straight again. I'm certain that speaking English is now going to be a thing of the past judging from the gibberish that's flowing from my mouth.
"Ungh, Jasper. Fucking pro. So good. Shit!"
Jesus Christ, he knows what he's doing!
I raise my head to look at him again and nearly shoot into his mouth as I watch him work me. My angelic anomaly is on his knees before me with his mouth completely enveloping my cock, and he is watching me watch him. His cheeks are hollowed, creating a vacuum around me as his head bobs up and down.
I've only ever had this experience with Tanya. At the time, I was very much satisfied with her ministrations. Had we stayed together, I would have lived the rest of my days knowing that she was the best a man could ever have.
Now Jasper has proven me oh, so wrong.
He doesn't have to use his hand to stroke the part of me that doesn't fit in his mouth; he's able to relax his throat and take in my entire length.
"Oh, God. Jasper, I'm not…I can't…Mmm…not much longer, baby."
Tanya possessed one skill that I'm certain Jasper could never master, though. If she and I were in a crowded restaurant and she was under the table giving me a blowjob - totally guilty; actually happened - nobody would be the wiser. She was masterfully silent.
Right now, however, if the bedroom door was closed, someone was in the bedroom across the hall with that door closed, and I was able to keep my mouth shut - not a shot in hell of that happening, but for the sake of argument- that person would be able to testify under oath that he could hear someone getting a blowjob in the next room.
If his tongue and his lips aren't enough, the sounds he makes while he sucks my cock are unfuckingbelievable. Sounds of suction and slurping on my skin, and oh fuck, he's humming now. And he still has his eyes locked on mine.
"Jasper, baby. You better move, I'm…shit…I'm gonna come." I throw my head back as I feel my balls begin to tighten, signaling my impending release.
"I'm not moving, Edward. Now look at me while I swallow every drop you give me."
Growling, I do as he asks.
He returns that beautiful mouth to my cock and relentlessly sucks me into his throat. Only now, the pace is faster, his tongue swirls around my head on the upstroke, and he is gently squeezing my balls with one hand as the other strokes my thigh. My hands tighten around his golden curls as I explode into his mouth. Humming in satisfaction, he finally closes his eyes and I feel him swallow as I continue to pulse into his mouth.
Tanya? Who's Tanya?
Collapsing back on the bed, I'm confident that I could definitely fall asleep right now.
Sweet Jesus, that was amazing.
"Jasper," I breathe. "There are no words."
Hearing him chuckle, I can't bring myself to sit up and see what he finds so amusing. I hear a rustle of clothing and a drawer opening and closing before I feel him crawl onto the bed to straddle my torso and begin kissing my neck. He kisses his way up to my ear and whispers, his voice gravelly with lust, "That, darlin', was nothing compared to what I'm about to do to you."
In no time at all, I'm growing hard again.
Moving farther up the bed, I make room for Jasper as he positions himself in between my legs. He presses his body into me and in doing so, brushes his erection against mine.
Fuck, he's naked.
He moves his mouth from my ear to my lips and kisses me.
"Edward, touch me, please," he sighs against my mouth.
After making sure he's watching me, I give my palm three good licks before gripping his cock. Pressing his lips against mine once again, he groans with abandon. I begin to stroke him just like I would stroke myself, tightening my grip as I reach the head. In short order, I can stop licking my hand for lubricant as he begins to make his own and I barely have to move my hand as he is now bucking his hips against me.
Sipping at the skin of his neck just below his ear, I ask, "Do you like that, Jasper?"
"Fuck, yeah," he whimpers.
The pace of his thrusts begins to increase and I know he's close. Reaching behind him with the hand not stroking his cock, I firmly grip his ass.
"Ah, God. Edward!" His face is so beautiful while he's on the brink. I can't even begin to fathom how much harder it makes me to hear my name fall from his lips like that.
"Do you wanna come, baby? You wanna come in my fist?"
His eyes are squeezed shut as he growls.
Suddenly, he opens his eyes to look into mine and I see that the sapphire shade of blue they were just moments before is now much darker and his nostrils are flaring. The Jasper that is glaring at me right now is the Jasper I hope to never run into alone in a dark alley. Well, that's not entirely true, but I digress.
This Jasper is one ferocious, keyed-up man. The muscles in his arms flex as he holds himself above me and the sight of this Jasper is making me tremble again. Ceasing his thrusting into my hand, he releases the breath that he had been holding.
"Edward. Right now, as good as that fist feels, I'm sure it doesn't compare to how good it will feel for me to come in your ass. You think you're ready for that?" His voice is thick and husky and, fuck, if he keeps talking to me like that, he won't even have to touch me to get me off again. Before I can even answer, he sits back on his knees and grabs a small bottle that is sitting on the bed. He squeezes a liberal amount of liquid on three of his fingers until they are glistening. My heart is threatening to break free from my ribcage with the force of its pounding. I realize now he's about to make me ready for him. Nodding at him, I nervously lick my lips. Jasper's expression softens and a bit of the ferocity is gone.
"Just relax, darlin'. I promise to take good care of you."
I smile in response because even though we're practically strangers, I already trust him not to hurt me. Well, not too much, anyway.
He positions himself between my legs like he's about to take me in his mouth again. And fuck it all if he doesn't do just that.
"Jasper!" I can't help but shout his name; his mouth on my skin is just pure bliss.
I quickly realize he's trying to get me to relax as I feel one of his lubricated digits gently pressing against my entrance. He sucks my cock deep into his throat and I completely melt, my knees falling nearly flush against the bed. With practically zero resistance he presses his finger inside me. Panicking, I instinctively clench down on him as my hips buck into his face.
"Christ, I'm sorry. I couldn't help that." I'm such a fucking idiot.
And damn it, without even releasing my cock from his mouth, he chuckles.
After almost completely withdrawing his finger he quickly thrusts it back in and I nearly lose it as he begins a slow, steady rhythm. His finger and mouth are now in perfect harmony. Just as I finally adjust to what is quickly taking me to O-Town, he adds a second finger, stretching me a bit more. I can imagine it's taking every bit of restraint he possesses not to just skip to the real deal, but making me comfortable seems to be higher on his list of priorities at the moment. Hell, I'm certainly not complaining. I imagined this would be more uncomfortable than it actually is. Everything about this man is such a pleasant surprise. Here comes pleasant surprise number three as he presses a third finger inside me. I feel the stretch and a very slight burn, but it feels so fucking good.
"Jasper, stop teasing me, please."
He releases me from his mouth with a pronounced "pop". Then using his free hand, he begins to pump me while the fingers of his other hand pump me in an entirely different way. He smiles, flashing a set of heart melting dimples at me.
"I don't mean to tease you, Edward. I just want you ready for me."
I'm losing it fast; I can hardly breathe.
"I'm ready, Jazz, please," I beg.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he moans. "Fuck, Edward. Say my name again."
I don't know what possessed me to shorten his name, but it thrills me that it has such an effect on him. Lifting my head off the bed to look at him, I set my jaw before speaking in a much firmer voice. "Jazz, fuck me. I'm begging you."
In a flurry, his hands release me to tear open a condom wrapper and expertly roll it onto his erection. Grabbing the bottle of lubricant, he coats his entire length generously.
"Say it. Say my name again, Edward."
"Jazz, I need you. Please."
He holds himself up with one hand beside my head and uses the other hand to position himself at my entrance.
Relax. Just breathe.
He begins to gently press the head of his cock inside me and surprising us both, the entire head slips in easily. This is a completely different sensation than his fingers. A little more stretch, a little more burn, a whole fucking lot better. A grimace appears on his face as he tries to remain controlled.
His words are clipped and short. "You okay, Edward?"
"Hell, yes, I'm okay." I resolve to thrust myself against him if he doesn't move soon.
After pushing himself a little further into me, I hear him hiss.
"Fuck, Edward. So hot. So tight."
Moving my hands to his hips, I attempt to urge him forward.
"Jazz," I whisper.
He grunts and finally thrusts the rest of his length inside me. Hard.
Reflexively, my back arches off the bed. I'd be lying if I said that didn't hurt. Truth be told, though, even if it hurt twice as much, I'd take it gladly. The full feeling of him inside me is exquisite. I relax again before meeting his worried gaze.
Stroking my cheek, he says, "Edward, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it like that, I couldn't he-" I cut him off with a searing kiss and pour everything I'm feeling into his mouth. Without hesitation, he does the same; our tongues dance and our lips collide and separate in a needy frenzy.
I caress his hips once before reaching down further to grip his ass, pulling him even farther into me, eliciting a groan from him and a gasp from myself. My gasp is quickly followed by a whimper as I begin to melt.
This is Heaven. It's gotta be.
"Look at me, darlin'," Jasper urges.
He is clasping my face in his hands. I feel him pull his hips back and withdraw almost completely before thrusting back into me. My breath catches and my hand flutters to his face as I watch the play of emotions cross his features with each movement.
He is a work of art.
"Edward." He swallows hard before withdrawing again. "So beautiful." He thrusts his cock into me again and I cry out.
"Jazz," my voice cracks, "don't stop."
We keep our eyes locked as he begins a rhythm that gradually begins to pick up tempo.
He grimaces and bites his bottom lip. "Hell, I'm not gonna last long. You feel so fucking good."
His belly is brushing my erection, teasing me to near insanity. I'm more than reluctant to move, though as he repeatedly grazes a spot deep inside me that has me ready to explode. His thrusts are growing increasingly more rapid and I'm teetering on the edge. He's probably going to last longer than me at this point.
"Fuck, Jazz. Harder. Fuck me harder." The words coming from my mouth surprise me. I'm not used to feeling so free to express myself like this.
He gives me a wicked grin before lifting himself off my body and locking his elbows, putting himself in a push-up position.
"Pull your knees back, darlin'. And hang on tight."
Here we go!
Gone is Gentle Jasper. I do what he asks just before he does precisely what I asked and begins to fuck me hard. The air is quickly filled with my cries, his grunts and the rhythmic slapping of our skin as he drills me. The magic spot that he was grazing before is now being mercilessly pounded. He's not even touching my cock and I'm about to come.
"Jazz. Coming." The words are barely a squeak. My breath is gone.
"Me, too. So fucking good."
My eyes squeeze shut and I grit my teeth as I explode. My load shoots out so hard it hits my chest with force. Two more frantic thrusts from Jasper and he grows rigid, pulsing violently inside me.
"Edward, shit!" he cries.
I relax all my muscles and a lazy smile creeps across my face.
Who knew it could be this good?
Jasper leans down, panting and dripping sweat, to kiss me. He completely ignores the mess I've made and embraces me with an affection I haven't experienced in so long. I return his embrace and with a chuckle, I prove him right by whispering, "I swear I never came so hard in my entire life." He laughs heartily.
"Two seconds, darlin'," he drawls before kissing me on the cheek. Abruptly he withdraws from me and the void he creates makes me gasp. He chuckles again and to my dismay, leaves the room.
Five seconds longer than he promised, he returns with a washrag and I see he disposed of the condom. I still haven't moved from my position on the bed and he begins to reverently clean my body. At first I thought he was just going to mop up the mess I made from my orgasm, but he gives me an all out bed bath. Once he's finished he tosses the washrag in the hamper and pulls back the covers of the bed.
I don't even wait for him to ask before I slip under the comforter and sheets beside him. We're facing each other, barely touching and he's looking at me questioningly. After everything we've just done, now he's not sure if I want to cuddle?
"Come here, you silly boy," I say with a chuckle. I draw my angelic anomaly close to my body and throw a leg over his hip.
Peppering his face with kisses, I say, "Jazz, again, there are no words."
His eyelids drop halfway as he caresses my cheek. "And again, Edward your actions speak louder than words. They say everything I need to hear."
I can't help but smile back. "Do they tell you 'thank you', and 'Meeting you has been the single most incredible event in my life?'."
He sighs and nuzzles his damp head into my chest. "So I take it you're not ready to leave yet?"
I pause briefly before answering. "Yet? Right about now, I'd go with 'ever'."
I feel him hum against my chest.
"Wanna know something?" he asks.
"What's that, Jasper?"
"I'm totally craving quesadillas right now."
I throw my head back and laugh.
"Sports, food, and sex. Is that all you think about?"
He chuckles against my skin. "Pretty much."
I scoff. "Typical man."
"I'm as bad as they come, darlin'."
Moments later I hear a soft snoring. It's the sweetest lullaby and I realize in this moment, I've never felt more fulfilled.
A/N Thanks for reading! :)