Chapter 10

10

JACKSON

N ow that I’ve got Harper in my grip, I will never let go. Proving that to Harper will probably be my entire life’s work. The way his eyes had lit up at the sight of the horses still fills my chest with a pulsing, radiating warmth. Like there’s a fucking supernova inside of me just from bringing him joy. Maybe his genuine smiles mean more because of how rarely they appear. But I want to see them a million times a day. I want to earn those smiles and be the main source of them.

Also, sucking his dick was an otherworldly experience. The slight flush of his skin, the taste of him, even the cloying, pretend confidence as he teased me into sucking him off… Whoever would’ve guessed that would be a turn-on for me?

After sucking him off, I had this possessive urge to hold him all night, keep him close to me. But Harper had jumped off the island with a nervous, almost terrified air and all but hustled me out of the house. I’m onto him, though. Being vulnerable terrifies him, and there’s nothing more vulnerable than letting your new boyfriend suck you off for the very first time.

Every morning I send him a good morning text.

Every morning he replies with something snotty, sarcastic, or fussy.

Jesus, why does that turn me on?

We might be dating but I’m not an idiot. I know he’s waiting for me to drop him like a sack of hot potatoes. But he’s severely underestimated just how much I want him. I don’t know how anyone could ever look at him and not want him with every ounce of their soul.

November starts with a sweet, cold front. Floridians act like snow is coming with their sweatshirts, jeans, and pumpkin spice lattes. Fall in the South has always been one of my favorites. The leaves stay green, but the weather cools, and everyone seems just a little happier.

I keep the windows open in the townhome as I mess with stocks, setting my income for the day. My phone buzzes on the kitchen island with an incoming call and the only person it could be is my mother. Part of me wishes it was Harper, but I think hell would freeze over before that man called me.

“Hi, Mama.”

Mama laughs into the phone, easy and sweet. “Hi, honey. I was calling to see if you’re planning to come home for Thanksgiving. Or are you staying in Florida with your friends?”

“I can come home if you and Dad want me to.”

“Tell him to get his ass home!” Dad hollers from what sounds like the other end of the house.

“Well, you heard the man.” Mama sighs a little, then whispers, “His blood sugar is still elevated. The man isn’t taking care of himself and he doesn’t want to listen to me.”

I swallow loudly. “Got it, Mama. Also, can I bring someone?”

“Oh?” She sounds pleasantly surprised, considering I’ve never brought someone home.

“There’s this boy…”

“Good. Please give me grandchildren before I’m too old to dote on them.”

“I’ll try, but when two boys love one another…”

Mama shushes me; then we work out what days I’ll be coming home. A plan formulates itself in my head as we talk. I just wonder how amenable Harper would be to coming with me and having a few days' stay in Georgia. It gives me a little over two weeks to plan something extravagant for him.

We have a date scheduled for the weekend, so I've decided to bring it up then. Especially since Harper ignores anything remotely serious in our messages. He’s always got a joke or pun for me, but when I get anything close to talking about feelings, he shuts down and disappears. Getting him to talk in person is going to be my only option.

By the time our date rolls around, I’m so eager to see Harper that I feel like a goddamn puppy. I’d planned to take Harper for a walk downtown and a dinner at a steakhouse, but there’s a car idling in the driveway when I pull in.

I park behind the car in the circular driveway, eyeing it suspiciously as I hop up the steps to Harper’s door. Just as I’m about to raise my hand to knock, a shout echoes through the door, loud and angry.

Instead of knocking, I opt to just walk in. Harper’s wrath be damned. The voices carry from the kitchen, and Harper’s voice is hushed as if calming an angry person. Honestly, I’m a little concerned I’m able to walk right in without Honey’s notice. Doesn’t exactly seem safe.

Harper stands in the kitchen, arms crossed, a look of absolute vitriol on his face. An older woman with strawberry-blonde hair stands across from him, a pinched, angry look on her face.

“I just think that I should’ve found out from you that you had another seizure, not from my cousin.”

“I understand,” Harper says slowly as if he’s speaking to a rabid dog with no ability to reason. “Next time, I’ll tell you the moment after I wake up covered in piss.”

“Harper!” The woman shouts while throwing her hands in the air. “I’m your mother, I give a shit. Fuck me, right?”

“Sorry for interrupting,” I say loudly, not sorry at all.

Relief colors Harper’s face for one single moment before he steels himself again. The woman turns around to stare in obvious confusion at my presence in her son's kitchen. Her gaze pings from me to Harper, clearly waiting for an explanation that Harper is not going to give.

“We have a date tonight,” I cautiously remind Harper.

Harper sighs loudly, then firmly pinches the bridge of his nose. “Thank you, Jackson.”

“A date?” his mother asks softly, gaze steady on me.

I send her a shy wave, hoping to make myself seem likable. Should be pretty easy. I’ve been told I’m plenty likable. The tension breaks with a snap as she steps forward with her hand extended. We shake hands briefly, her grip firm. She turns back to Harper with a tremulous smile.

“You could tell me things like this,” she says softly, then turns back to me. “I’m Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jackson, Harper’s boyfriend.”

Harper blows a very loud raspberry. “Mother, we were going out. Can I see you out?”

Harper ushers Olivia out with a strong grip on her slim shoulders. A few whispers reach my ears, but I can’t make out the words. A moment later, Harper returns to the kitchen, a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Hi.” Harper leans up on his toes to kiss my jaw.

I cup his shoulders and tug him away to look into his tired eyes. “Did you have another seizure?”

Harper visibly rankles at my question. He shrugs out of my grip with a sneer.

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Who are you going to talk to, then?” I say loudly until he turns to face me again. “If not me, not your parents, then who?”

“Listen, I’ve got it all under control, Jackson. If this is how you’re going to be, then let's end it right now.”

I snort with a roll of my eyes. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you.”

This time, Harper does sneer. “What does that mean?”

“You’re just waiting for me to run, so it’s easier if I do it now, right? Before you invest any more emotions or any more time, cut and run. I’m not fucking going anywhere, buttercup. You can either tell me what’s going on, or I’ll find out from the people you do tell. Andy? I know she knows.”

Harper screams at the top of his lungs, fists curled into tight balls at his sides. The action is so surprising that I startle just a little, but I stand unmoving, unafraid of whatever fury he can unleash on me. The scream stops, only to turn into a whimper of a cry. A tear tracks down his cheek, but he angrily wipes it away as if we both won’t notice it.

“Harper,” I whisper, worry about him choking me.

Harper holds out a trembling hand to prevent me from stepping close. I respect his wish and stay where I am, waiting for him to come to me. A few minutes slip by, but just as I thought, once the anger fades and the tears disappear, my Harper stands before me. He crosses the space between us and throws his entire weight against me. I fold my arms around him, cradling his head in the palm of my hand.

“It’s okay,” I murmur into his ear, lips caressing his skin.

“I didn’t have another seizure, not since our date,” Harper admits, fingers curling tightly into my sweater as if to anchor himself to me. “She’s just mad that she found out about that one from Cindy.”

“Please promise me you’ll tell me if you have one.” I press my cheek against the top of his head, inhaling the sweet smell of whatever shampoo he uses. “I care about you. Don’t punish me for that.”

“Okay,” Harper reluctantly agrees.

“How about we stay here tonight? We can make out and watch television.”

Harper pulls away to look up at me with his wide eyes. “I just have premade food.”

“We’ll order something.”

Harper grumbles. “Nothing delivers out here.”

“They will for the right amount of money. Do you like Italian?”

Harper tosses himself on the sofa with a large sigh. “Who doesn’t?”

Leaving Harper on the couch, I return to the kitchen to call the restaurant. A couple of hundred dollars later, our delivery order should be arriving in a little over an hour. Harper and Honey are curled around each other on the couch when I return to the living room. I slump onto the couch beside Harper, tucking my arm around his shoulders. It physically hurts to hold back my smile when Harper leans against my side with a contented sigh.

“I want to ask you something.” I twirl a piece of Harper’s hair around my fingers as he leans his head against my bicep to look up at me. “Will you come home with me for Thanksgiving?”

Harper’s mouth pinches, clearly wanting to lash out. He takes a few deep breaths and then nods in agreement. Wow. That was pretty easy. There must be a catch.

“I have to bring Honey,” Harper gently reminds me as if I’d tell him no as if she isn’t my best girl.

“Of course.”

Harper leans back against me with a happy sigh. All traces of his little explosion from earlier are gone, leaving the sweet version of Harper that I crave so much.

“Did you have a good week?”

Harper shrugs against me. “Mostly. Better now.”

Fuck. I tip his head up with a finger under his chin and kiss him. He sighs against my mouth, body relaxing heavier into my side, the ultimate sign of trust. Harper tastes like chocolate, as if he had some right before I arrived. But he also just tastes like Harper. A taste that I’m starting to recognize as familiar, as grounding, instead of something new.

“What was that for?” Harper asks when I finally pull away.

“I just missed you, is all.”

A smirk tilts just one side of Harper’s lips up. “Can I suck your dick now?”

I groan into his messy hair. He’s going to kill me. Only Harper would ask to suck my dick after I gave him a sweet, lingering, I’m so in like with you kind of kiss.

“How long have you been thinking about that?”

Harper pretends to think, eyes scrunched deeply at the corners. “Since you told me no last time.”

“Come here.” I manhandle Harper into my lap until I can tangle my hands in his hair to tug him down for a decadent kiss. The moan he lets out when my tongue caresses his own sends my cock to full hardness. I roughly grab on to his hips and tug him down, letting him feel how hard I am just for him.

He tugs away with a gasp, eyes wide and blown with desire. Lips wet from our kiss, he licks the lingering wetness away as if to keep the flavor of us on his tongue. I curl my fingernails into my palm, hoping to stave off my orgasm as long as I can. Harper’s big, green eyes hold my gaze as he slinks down my body, landing on his knees between my spread legs.

Harper licks his lips again while roughly rubbing his palms up and down my clothed thighs. I keep my hands hanging loosely at my sides, letting Harper take this at his own pace. My heart skips a beat when his fingers carefully unbutton my jeans. One look from him is all the direction I need to lift up slightly so that he can tug my jeans down just enough.

Unable to resist touching him any longer, I softly brush the pads of my fingers across his crimson cheek. “I’ll like whatever you do, I promise. You’re the sexiest thing that’s ever knelt between my thighs. We’re in this together. I’ll walk you through it.”

Surprisingly, Harper doesn’t argue. With a quiet release of breath, he quickly tugs my boxers down and stares longingly at my cock when it slaps my stomach. A drop of pre-cum leaks from my tip under his heated stare. Harper tilts his head in wonder, lifts his hand, and gathers the pre-cum on his fingertip. I watch, frozen, fully entranced, as he closes his eyes, seemingly savoring the taste of me.

The next moment, Harper’s leaning forward and taking my cock into his warm mouth. I dig my fingers into the softness of his sofa to prevent myself from grabbing on to his hair and fucking into his mouth. Not this time. I don’t want to overwhelm him. A little choking noise escapes him when he sucks me down too deep, but instead of pulling off, it seems to spur him on further.

He swallows me down to the back of his throat with a loud moan that reverberates through me. With his nose buried in my groin, his hands grope for mine. I try to tangle our fingers together, but he shakes me off; instead, he raises my hands to his head and then pats my hands. Fucking Jesus shit. His eyes lift to mine, tears lining the rims.

“You want me to fuck your face?” I ask, voice breaking for the first time in over a decade. No one ever makes me feel unsure or off-footed during sex. Only Harper.

Harper nods as much as he can while holding my gaze. I brush my thumb along his cheek, feeling it hollow as I drag him up, then slide him back down. It takes every ounce of willpower for me to not tilt my head back, just go for the ride, and enjoy the sensations. Fucking into his mouth is divine. A few tears fall and splash against my wrists, spurring me to fuck his face faster.

His fingers dig into my thighs, all while he makes little moans of pleasure, slurping at my cock, fucking choking on it. My thighs tremble around his thin frame. Pleasure forms hot and terrifying at the base of my spine, demanding that I come as soon as I can. I try to drag him off, to give him a warning, but he only hollows his cheeks out more, sucking me so deeply that I bury myself in his throat and come.

My body slumps against the sofa, boneless with pleasure. Harper breathes heavily through his nose, swallowing rapidly to take every ounce of my cum down his throat. It’s impossible he’s never done this before. I refuse to believe it. Everything he’s told me has been an elaborate ruse to gift me with the greatest fucking pleasures I’ve ever experienced.

Harper slowly releases me from his mouth, then wipes his lips with the back of his forearm. Cocking his head to the side, he dissects me with all the dedication of a hawk studying their prey.

“Good?”

“Harper, you have no fucking idea…” I trail off and drag him into my lap to lick the taste of myself from his mouth. He moans into my mouth, tongue sliding against my own. He’s so hot against me, a burning furnace of want, desire, and fucking mine. He’s mine.

I wiggle my hand between us, unbutton his jeans one-handed, and slip my hand into his boxers. He moans against my mouth when I curl my hand around the heavy length of him. It only takes a few tugs of my dry palm for Harper to go rigid against me, his cum splashing against my stomach and into my hand.

He pants against my lips, body loose and heavy from his orgasm. I lift my hand between us, slowly licking it clean as he watches me with wide eyes.

“That was…” Harper closes his eyes as if at a loss for words.

“Are you seriously telling me that was the first dick you’ve ever sucked?”

Harper hums and nods. “I must be a natural.”

“Are you interested in being fucked?” I ask just because I have to fucking know. If he’s not, it won’t matter. We’ll work it out regardless. But goddamn, the idea of burying myself inside him lights me up like nothing else.

“Yeah, Daddy.”

I bury my fingers in his hair and yank until he gasps. “Don’t be a little shit.”

“Sorry, Daddy.” But the twinkle in his eye tells me he’s not the least bit embarrassed.

I kiss him again until he melts against me. We clean up just in time for dinner to arrive. Harper helps plate the food so it feels less like we’re eating delivery and more like we’re eating a home-cooked meal.

Sitting at the kitchen island, we share the mixture of food that I ordered. Harper seems to prefer the shrimp Alfredo, so I focus on the gnocchi. Tearing into the garlic knots, Harper sends me a wicked grin.

“Good thing we fucked beforehand so we don’t have to kiss each other with garlic breath.”

“I’ll kiss you, garlic breath or not.”

Harper laughs loud and pleased, making me bite my lip to hold back a full-blown grin. “You’re the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met.”

I swipe a garlic knot through the red sauce on my plate. “You make me this way.”

Harper hums in disbelief as he mimics me, swiping his garlic knot through my plate's red sauce. “So, should I request the entire week of Thanksgiving off?”

“Yes, please.”

A small, pleased grin flirts at the corner of Harper’s mouth before he suppresses it. “Alright, Daddy.”

“One day, you’re going to say that with a lot more pleasure on your lips.”

Harper chews his garlic knot thoughtfully, all while eyeing me with a level of disdain that should be a turn-off but strangely riles me up all over again.

“We’ll see, Daddy.”

I kiss him because garlic breath be damned. When he chuckles against my lips, I know I’ve won.

Every year, the boys and I do Friendsgiving. We get together to celebrate our friendship, while also pigging out on our favorite foods. The day is one of my favorites. This year will be even better because now Harper will be there with me. Whether he likes it or not.

“Don’t kiss me in front of Beau and Colby,” Harper demands, all grumpy and hissing like a kitten.

We aren’t even in the house yet and already with the demands. Harper sits in the passenger seat, arms crossed, a pout on his perfect lips. Maybe I should’ve given him a warning that tonight’s date night was Friendsgiving, but I didn’t want to give him more time to figure out an excuse to not come.

“Can I hold your hand?” I ask sarcastically.

Harper’s lips twitch at the corners. “No.”

“Can I look at you at least?”

“Once every thirty minutes is fine.”

I nod in acceptance of his demand just as the car comes to a stop in front of Colby’s house. “I’ll set a timer on my phone.”

Harper sighs loudly, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “All right, let's go.”

“Nope.” I cup the nape of his neck, letting my fingers curl into the soft hair there. My mouth is on Harper’s before he can even utter a word. It takes a few teasing swipes of my tongue, but finally, he opens for me, relaxing into my hold. When I pull away, he’s starry-eyed and quiet. “Better?”

“Yes,” Harper admits quietly, as if it’s a secret.

“If you get overwhelmed and want to sneak away to kiss me, just tug on your ear.”

Harper chuckles against my lips. “How will you see the sign if you’re not allowed to look at me?”

I mock gasp. “Oh no, maybe the don’t look at me order should be lifted.”

Harper drops his forehead to my chest, his fingers tightening against my stomach. Colby comes out of the house barefoot and waving when he spots us in the car. A little furrow forms between Colby’s eyes as he looks on. I hold a finger up in the universal sign for one more moment, watching as he returns inside.

“Okay, you can look at me,” Harper agrees with an air of giving up. “But no kissing.”

“Alright, punk. Time to go in.”

I kiss his cheek, grinning like a loon when he closes his eyes in bliss at the feel of my lips.

We walk into the warm farmhouse hand in hand despite Harper’s earlier reluctance for displays of affection in front of his family. Honey’s vest is off tonight, so she wiggles and pants when Whiskey comes into view. They huff and nuzzle at one another before disappearing into the living room to the right.

Everyone’s gathered on the back porch under the glowing fairy lights. It’s the perfect evening to be outside. The air has a slight chill, and the wind whips the cool, fresh smell of the trees behind Colby’s house toward us. Eli stands whispering with Colby at the edge of the back porch, but he grins widely upon spotting us.

“There you two are! We thought maybe you weren’t coming.”

“Sorry, Jackson had a fashion snafu. We wore the same thing, and he had to change… it was all very dramatic.” Harper drops my hand and heads towards the outdoor sofas, plopping down beside a grinning Trevor.

Everyone looks between me and Harper as if gauging the truth of the statement. But I can’t stop thinking about Harper wearing my clothes, maybe just one of my shirts, nothing else at all. Oh no. That’s not a conducive train of thought for right now at all. Harper smirks wickedly and murmurs something to Trevor, making my friend borderline cackle. I flick my gaze to Beau just in time to see him hide his grin at the sound of Trevor’s laughter. We’re all seriously lovesick.

“How’s it been going?” Eli asks softly, his gaze also trained on Harper.

“Good, when he’s not trying to push me away.”

Eli places his hand on my forearm, squeezing in reassurance. “I’m pretty sure he’s worth pushing through his sky-high barriers. I’ve never seen you so enamored with someone. I like it seeing you this way.”

“Ditto.” I dip down to kiss his cheek, earning myself a swat on the arm.

“Beer or wine?” Colby asks as he comes up behind Eli.

“Nothing for me, solidarity with Harper.”

Colby smiles an approving little smile and hands Eli the wineglass he’d been holding. Satisfied that I passed some hidden test, I make my way over to the sofa. The spot beside Beau is empty, so I plop down beside him.

“Still bored?” Beau asks, obviously trying to make conversation.

“Much less now. You’ve missed the window to put me to work at the farm.”

Beau laughs low in his throat. “The season is winding down at the farm now. Looks like we both missed our windows.” Beau runs a hand through his hair, turning his gaze towards me. “How’s he doing?”

Clearly, everyone is more comfortable asking me than asking Harper himself. I totally understand it, but I’m his boyfriend, not his keeper. I’m not going to set a precedent for reporting on his health.

“He’s happy to be here tonight,” I say in answer.

Beau’s smile holds an air of approval. “Well, I doubt that’s the truth. He’d much rather be planning world domination than at a dinner with friends.”

“We’re like Pinky and The Brain. If he plans it, I’ll help him carry it out.”

Beau’s laugh this time is loud, gaining the attention of the men around us.

“What’s so funny?” Eli asks, sipping slowly at his wine before he sits on the still-empty sofa beside Trevor.

“Jackson’s hilarious,” Beau replies seriously.

“I compared Harper and I to Pinky and The Brain,” I admit with a grin.

Everyone chuckles except for Harper. He only studies me for a moment before turning his gaze towards Honey and Whiskey. The dogs are playing in the short grass, a toy tossed in the air between them every now and then.

Colby takes a seat beside Eli, dropping a proprietary hand to his boyfriend's thigh. “What’re everyone’s Thanksgiving plans?”

“We’ll be with Mama and Andy,” Beau announces, eyes on Trevor.

Trevor tilts his beer towards Beau with a smile. “What he said.”

Colby shares a secret smile with Eli. “I think we’re going to take a trip to the beach house.”

“What about you two?” Eli asks as he turns back towards the rest of the group.

“I’m taking Harper home.”

Harper flushes a bright, vivid red and slinks down in the sofa cushions as if hoping he can disappear.

“Oh, that’s great!” Eli says excitedly, gaze flicking from me to Harper. “Jackson’s mom is the best. She makes this sinful macaroni and cheese that I still think about to this day.”

“You’ve met them?” Harper asks quietly.

“Yes, one time I spent Christmas with them. My mother was traveling, and Jackson invited me along. You’ll have a great time, Harper. They’re even sweeter than Jackson.”

“How is that possible,” Harper mumbles in disbelief under his breath.

Trevor leans over to whisper something in Harper’s ear. Curiously, Harper flushes an even deeper shade of crimson. The night goes on around us, enjoying dinner outside under the stars. Harper sits beside me, but I give him the space he requested. Although it’s almost impossibly hard to keep my hands off of him. Eli gives everyone a hearty helping of pecan pie. Harper devours the pie at the speed of light despite only eating half of his dinner. The man’s sweet tooth is insane.

We all end up in Colby’s living room, sitting around the piano. Colby plays a few classical songs to a large round of applause from the group of us. The man blushes at the praise and waves everyone off.

“Any requests?” Colby asks with a grin.

“Hannah Montana,” Trevor says with an answering teasing grin.

Eli laughs so hard mid-sip of wine that half of it ends up dribbling down his chin. Colby loses it then and leans forward to wipe the wine away.

“Jesus, Eli, keep it in your mouth,” I tease.

Eli rolls his eyes deeply. “Hilarious. Anyway, yes, do you know any Hannah, Colby?”

Colby stares at Eli in obvious contempt. “No, sorry, I don’t know any Hannah Montana.”

Harper strides confidently over to the piano. He shoos Colby off the piano bench, and Colby goes with raised eyebrows and a small, knowing smile. Harper takes a seat at the bench, dancing his fingers so lightly over the keys that no sound happens. Leaning back harder against the leather sofa, I watch as Harper finally starts to play the beginnings of “The Climb.” Probably not the song that Trevor was going for, but something in my heart goes just a little wonky at the familiar sound of the song.

A furrow of deep concentration forms between Harper’s brow. His auburn hair flows over his shoulders, but a few pieces escape to cover his face. I absolutely loathe those few strands of errant hair. I want to brush the strands away so I can have a clear picture of his face when he starts to sing. Trevor unfurls from the sofa and joins Harper at the bench, earning him a surprised look from Harper.

They sing the song together, voices just barely harmonizing. Trevor’s voice is low, while Harper’s is a little higher, but a small, private smile warms Harper’s face as they sing, and that’s what matters most.

“I didn’t know he could play,” I murmur helplessly, caught in another wave of desire.

“He was a bit of a prodigy as a kid,” Beau says like he’s sharing a state secret.

I raise one eyebrow. “What happened?”

Beau shrugs. “Nothing. He just lost the passion for it, I guess.”

Harper finishes playing the song, a warm, beautiful flush on the apples of his cheeks. Everyone claps as Harper does a small bow while seated. His eyes meet mine just as his hand slowly lifts to tug at his left ear. That’s my cue.

“On that note, we’ll be heading out.” I shake hands with Beau and Colby.

Harper’s just finishing hugging Trevor when I finally make my way over to him. I kiss both Trevor and Eli on the cheeks before guiding Harper out of the house without a single word. Honey streaks ahead of us and waits like a good girl for me to open the back door up for her. Once she’s settled in the back row, I help Harper into the passenger seat, then lean in to kiss him firmly on the mouth.

I pull away before I can get carried away. Harper’s mouth has a way of short-circuiting my brain.

“I didn’t know you could play piano,” I admit into the quiet of the car.

Harper waves his hand dismissively. “I played as a kid; now it’s mostly one of those fun little tidbits when there’s an icebreaker somewhere.”

“I thought you played beautifully.”

“Colby has a baby grand. Anything I play on it will sound beautiful.”

I huff in irritation. “Harper, take a damn compliment.”

Harper’s fingers dance across his thigh, and he turns his head away so that his face is hidden from me. Sometimes, the man makes no sense. He likes to be a little shit and make people laugh, but when attention is on him, he turns profoundly uncomfortable. He’s a mystery inside a puzzle inside an enigma. How many years is it going to take for me to understand him? I don’t fucking care because I’ll wait, but it’s infuriating.

I think Harper may need a heavier hand than I initially realized.

Harper keeps the lights off in the house, so only the glow of the under-cabinet kitchen lights breaks through the dark. I follow him into his bedroom like he’s a planet, and I’m just a moon stuck in his orbit. Which is the truth of the matter. I’ve been circling him for months now. Harper lifts off his navy-blue sweater, dropping it to the ground without a care in the world.

He starts to unbuckle his pants just as he turns his head to peer at me over the creamy skin of his shoulder. “You should fuck me.”

Christ. He always wants to ruin my goddamn plans. Blood rushes in my ears at the sight of him wiggling out of his jeans. The sight of all that pale, creamy skin has saliva pooling in my mouth. I need to worship him with my lips, kissing every inch of his skin. Harper finally shimmies out of his boxers, leaving him gloriously nude. God, his ass. I want to bury my face between his cheeks and live there for the rest of my days. Giving him every ounce of pleasure he’s deserved his entire life.

“Harper,” I say his name like a swear.

He stretches his arms over his head, bunching up the slight muscles on his back. Dimples pop on each of his ass cheeks. I can hear my breath coming faster, somehow disconnected from my own body.

“Yes, Daddy?” Harper says, voice a low tease.

“Go take a shower and clean yourself for me. Thoroughly. I’ll be waiting here for you.”

Harper’s shoulders tense with the command, but he doesn’t argue. A sign that tells me he’s thankful not to be given an option. My Harper is a brat to his core, but when he wants something deep down, he doesn’t fight. He gives in so easily when it’s what his heart truly desires. And I know what he wants, truly even needs, is for me to be Daddy.

The shower turns on, and moments later the sound of water sluicing over Harper’s body echoes through the room, water hitting the tile walls. I take off my shoes, but that’s it, choosing to stay fully clothed for tonight. The nightstand beside Harper’s bed hides a curious amount of toys that I ignore for now, deciding that’s a question for another time. Grabbing the bottle of lube, I toss it onto the comforter, then wait patiently at the foot of the bed for Harper to finish the shower.

When Harper finally exits the bathroom, a cloud of steam follows him. His skin is flushed with heat and his eyes sharpen at the sight of me still fully dressed.

“I thought you were going to fuck me?” Harper asks quietly, voice beautifully shy.

I point at the bed instead of answering. “Get on the bed, lie on your stomach.”

I can see the moment it all clicks, the moment he decides to push his chances. His nostrils flare slightly, fingers tensing and relaxing at his side.

“No.”

“Harper,” I say, voice low and deep. A shiver rolls through Harper, but he stares at me without flinching, a challenge in his deep green eyes. “For once in your life, be a good boy and listen without arguing. Good boys get rewarded with pleasure, and bad boys don’t. Be a good boy for me and get on the bed.”

Harper squeezes his eyes tightly shut as if at war with himself. I have to bite back a grin when he silently heads towards the bed; shoulders slumped in defeat. Once he lies down, I let my eyes trail over the expanse of his body, taking stock of every inch of beautiful skin. His skin pebbles beneath my touch as I slowly glide my fingers from his ankle to the back of his knee.

Only the sound of his deep breathing fills the room. I dance my fingers all along his skin until he’s trembling underneath me, begging me without words to give him more of my touch. His skin is soft beneath my lips when I kiss those two irresistible dimples of his perfectly round ass cheeks. Touching Harper is divine, as close to the pearly gates as I’ll ever get.

I nudge his legs apart more so he’s on his stomach with his legs in the shape of a V. His arms are tucked under the pillow, out of sight, and his hair shields his face from my view. I can’t have that. If I’m going to take care of him tonight, then I want to see all the fruits of my labor.

Harper shivers beneath my lips as I kiss up his spine, licking his skin to savor the taste of him. Roughly gathering his hair at the nape of his neck, I press my mouth to his ear.

“Tell me where you have a hair tie.”

Harper’s eyes are beautifully glassy when they flicker to me. Wordlessly, he removes his arm from under the pillow, holding his arm out for me so I can slip the tie off of his wrist. I comb my fingers through his slightly damp hair, fixing it in a messy braid so it lies down the gentle curve of his spine. I slip my hand under his head, turning his head toward me so I can kiss him senseless until he’s a trembling mess beneath me.

“Do you trust me?” I ask against his parted lips.

“Always,” Harper promises.

I trail my lips back down his spine, grabbing the bottle of lube as I go. A gasp rattles out of Harper when I part his cheeks, only to nuzzle my nose against him, inhaling the clean scent of him. When I gently lick his hole, his legs spasm, and he scrambles onto his elbows to look back at me.

“Jackson?” Harper asks, cheeks flushed, gaze weary.

“You said you trust me.” I raise my hand to press him back down flat against the bed. “Let me take care of you. Just let go.”

When I lick him again, his thighs tense underneath me, and a deep, guttural moan floats from his parted lips. From this angle, I can lick into him and clearly see his face taut with pleasure.

“Jackson… oh my God…” Harper trails off with another moan.

Heaven is buried between Harper’s ass cheeks. His fingers curl tightly into the blanket as I lick into him, feeling him soften around my tongue each time I press in further. It would be so easy to just fuck him like this, but I have plans, so tonight, it’ll just have to be about his pleasure alone.

I pull away from him to generously coat my fingers with lube. He pants underneath me, gyrating his hips against the bed to seek friction. Normally, I’d punish him for that, but I know how on the edge he has to be. I roughly flip him over, settling between his splayed thighs so that they rest over my own. Pressing my finger against his entrance, I tap my finger against his hole a few times in a silent ask for him to let me in. His eyes squeeze shut, and he relaxes enough for me to slip in up to my knuckle. God, he’s so fucking hot.

His head tilts back as I search out his prostate, pressing against it once I find it. Harper claws at the bed, swallowing loudly over and over as if he’s trying to gulp down air. Taking pity on him, I take his cock in a tight grip, roughly pumping it in my hand.

The tendons in his neck pop with strain as he tightens around my finger. His cock is angry and red, begging for him to come. I realize with startling clarity that Harper is holding off his orgasm because I haven’t yet given him permission. He’s so fucking good, so perfect, and so very mine.

“Harper, love, you can come whenever you want.”

Harper mumbles an incoherent sentence before tensing up, back arching off the bed with the intensity of his orgasm. His release coats my fingers, and I stroke him through it, needing to bring him down gently from the volatile orgasm shaking through him. My cock is painfully hard, but I don’t care about my pleasure, not when Harper is blinking at the ceiling in a daze like he just saw the face of God.

I lick my hand clean, holding back a feral grin when Harper’s eyes firmly shut to blot out the sight. The taste of him is decadent on my tongue. Once I’ve cleaned my hand, I eagerly lick the cum off his stomach. I finally collapse onto the bed, letting my head rest against his still-trembling stomach.

His hand comes up to rest over my scalp, thumb drawing circles against the short, buzzed hairs on top of my head. His stomach trembles with each slow inhale. Resting my chin just below his belly button, I look up at him to find him already gazing down at me. Even in the low light of the lamp, the tears in his eyes are visible. I don’t call attention to it, because I know that’s the wrong way to go about it with Harper. Instead, I curl tighter against him, turning my head to rest my cheek against his stomach.

“Stay the night?” Harper asks quietly sometime later.

“Try to get me to leave.”

Harper just snorts, but his body slumps in relief. I jump out of the bed to hurriedly tug off my clothes. The loopy smile on Harper’s face is worth it when I trip while hopping out of my jeans. I climb into the bed with him, wearing only my boxers. He curls against me, all long limbs and tiredness. Burying my face in his hair, I breathe him in, needing him in my lungs before falling asleep.

This perfect man, everything I’ve ever wished for, everything I’ve so wanted to keep. He quickly falls asleep in my arms, lips parted as he snores softly. Honey pushes through the bedroom door, eyes glinting in the darkness. I gently pat the bed in invitation for her to join us. She curls up against my back with a huff, pleased to finally be allowed in the bed with us. And that’s how I fall asleep, between the two beings that are rapidly becoming the most important part of my life.