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A delicious warmth at Jazz’s back had him snuggling closer to the source. He couldn’t ever remember a time when he felt this damn comfortable. Usually, once he woke, Jazz quickly got dressed and got ready for his day, but right now, he wanted more time as he floated on a haze of contentment.
Something around his waist tightened, causing his back to become flush with what was behind him. Jazz’s eyes flew open. The décor of the room wasn’t one he ever remembered seeing. It looked dated and worn, yet clean. Where was he?
A voice behind him moaned softly. “Stop thinking so hard, brown eyes.”
Wilder.
The events since being asked to testify against Kingston came rushing back. He had a mate. A smile started to tug on the corners of his mouth, until he remembered that his mate planned on leaving him.
A sigh blew heated air over the shell of his ear. “Jazz, what’s going on in that head of yours?”
He could feel Wilder move so his arm was no longer under Jazz’s head. Wilder had moved it behind Jazz, with his elbow on the mattress and head propped up on his hand as he stared down at Jazz. It allowed Wilder to see more of Jazz’s face, but Jazz refused to make it any easier by turning to look at Wilder.
He didn’t think he could look at his mate, knowing he didn’t want to spend a lot of time with Jazz.
“Hey.” Before Jazz could realize what he was doing, Wilder had moved so Jazz was on his back, his mate over him, with most of his weight placed on his thick arms, that he placed on either side of Jazz. The position left Jazz with no way to escape those hickory colored eyes. “Talk to me, my mate.”
That wasn’t happening. Jazz may be pathetic and not wanted but whining about it never helped. That was one lesson his father had taught him by locking him in a closet any time he tried. He used to tell Jazz no one wanted to hear a little bitch complaining.
One time, it had taken a week before his father had remembered to open the door, and that was only because the weather had been cool enough that he’d needed a coat. Jazz had been curled up in a ball, barely able to move. His father hadn’t even noticed him, which was probably the only reason he’d left the door unlocked after grabbing his coat.
It had taken Jazz thirty minutes to crawl to the kitchen in his weakened state. Another twenty to reach the sink. He hadn’t bothered with a glass as he drank right from the tap.
When his father had come home, he’s scowled at Jazz and said, “I thought you’d finally done the right thing and left for good.”
That had been when Jazz knew, he’d be better off finding his own way in the world. He’d been twelve.
“Is this about my job taking me away from you?” Wilder asked.
Jazz desperately wanted to shout, “Yes,” but he curled his lips in to stop himself. He may hate that his mate would leave him, but there was no point in driving him away any faster.
Wilder dipped his head down until his nose was inches from his neck. He inhaled deeply. “Damn, my mate, you smell so good.” Then he swiped his tongue along his skin. A deep, rumbling moan vibrated along their bodies. “And you taste like you were made just for me.”
When he rose up again, desire burned in his gaze. “Fate brought you into my life, my sweet mate. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.” Wilder lowered his head again until their lips met in a kiss that had the butterflies in Jazz’s stomach beating their wings wildly.
No one had ever taken the time to make love to him with just a kiss before. Usually, whoever he was hooking up with, if they even bothered with kissing, thrust their tongue down his throat.
But with Wilder, it was different. He started off slow. Kissing along Jazz’s bottom lip, he added in a few nips with his teeth, then soothed the sting by gently lapping the flesh with his tongue. The kiss went on and on before his hand came up, his thumb pressing ever so slightly against Jazz’s jaw, as if asking him to open up. Jazz gladly did, letting his mate in to explore.
Zings of pleasure zipped through his body, causing his toes to curl. Jazz had no idea a kiss could make him feel so... alive and horny. Gods, but his dick ached for release and yet kissing was all they’d done. How was that possible?
When both of them were breathless and panting for air, Wilder lifted his head to stare into Jazz’s eyes. It was if he were peering right into Jazz’s soul. Not sure how to feel about that, Jazz tried to look away, but Wilder’s hand still held his jaw.
“I’ve waited my whole life for you, Jazz,” Wilder whispered. “If it’s what you need, I’ll quit my job and never leave your side.”
Tears welled up in Jazz’s eyes. “Really?” he whispered in a plea, for he truly wasn’t sure he could believe it. “No one’s ever been willing to do something like that for me.”
“I can’t imagine why.” Wilder traced one finger along his jaw, then across his bottom lip, his gaze fixated where he touched. “You deserve to have everything.” Those deep brown eyes flicked back up to his, showing Jazz the sincerity of his words.
This time, it was Jazz who leaned in for a kiss. That his mate was willing to sacrifice a job he clearly loved for him, meant the world to Jazz. “Claim me, my mate,” he whispered.
Wilder grinned. “That will be my pleasure, brown eyes.”
Their lips met in a passionate kiss, as Wilder’s fingers traced along his neck. Soon, his mouth followed the same trail, licking and nipping at his skin. Jazz arched up into the touching, loving that his mate spent so much time lavishing attention on him, instead of just flipping him over, thrusting his cock into his ass and fucking him.
Not that he’d mind that, especially from his mate. But this? This was so much better.
His skin tingled as little jolts of pleasure raced through his body everywhere Wilder touched. His own hands itched to touch, but he wasn’t sure his mate would want that. When it became too much to bear, Jazz reached out tentatively. The solid strength beneath his fingertips had him kneading into the flesh.
Wilder moaned, his muscles twitching and jumping as Jazz continued his exploration. “Feels so good when you touch me,” Wilder murmured.
Emboldened by his mate’s declaration, Jazz continued to trace every curve along his upper arms, shoulders, and back. He loved that Wilder wanted him to participate. Usually, his lovers just wanted to hold him down and fuck him. There had been many times Jazz wasn’t sure if any of his lovers had known who he was at the time, or if it even mattered.
But not with Wilder. His mate continued to move down his body, but his eyes returned to stare at Jazz, as if gaging his reactions to what he was doing. It was like Wilder wanted to ensure Jazz was enjoying what he was doing, which seemed crazy because... well, it was like a fireworks show was going off throughout his body.
Nerves were exploding with each touch, while his muscles fluttered and danced. Wilder hadn’t even put his hand on Jazz’s dick, yet it took everything he had to hold back the orgasm trying to force him over the edge.
“Please,” he whispered softly, afraid the plea would make his mate stop for daring to ask for anything. “I need you inside of me.”
When Wilder did stop, Jazz had barely been able to stop the cry of dismay from spilling from his lips. It had been his fault for thinking he could request more from his mate.
Jazz knew that wasn’t the way things worked. Wilder was the dominant partner. He set the pace. He decided what they did. Not Jazz. His wants and needs didn’t matter.
Then he heard it, the snick of a cap being opened. His gaze flew to his mate’s hands to find him pouring lube onto his fingers. Wilder hadn’t stopped because Jazz had asked for more. His mate was actually trying to give him what he wanted.
Something moved within Jazz. It wasn’t butterflies or knots. Instead of fear, or disappointment, it held a sense of wonder, as if he were experiencing a miraculous gift. The terrified little boy, who’d never known any kindness, begged Jazz not to trust this feeling.
Even the adult side of him was leery to believe. But that’s the thing with miracles, one didn’t necessarily have to believe for them to happen. Since the moment he’d laid eyes on Wilder Frost, the barest flicker of hope had ignited within him. It might be scary, hell, it was downright terrifying, but Jazz refused to let it blow out.
He was going to hold onto it with everything he had and never let go, no matter how forbidding the idea of Jazz finding someone to love him might be.
