Page 44 of His Custody

“Do you ever think of me that way?”

Bagpipes went off in his head. Bagpipes of all things. Not fireworks, not thunder and lightning. Not even goddamn butterflies. Fucking bagpipes.What the fuck, brain?He struggled not to let the bagpipes take over, but instead kept his voice steady and calm while his heart beat a mile a minute and his dick throbbed.

“What way?”

“Every morning, you wake up, and you’re... You...”

His stomach clenched so hard the only thing that stopped him from curling into the fetal position was that Keyne would be crushed. She’d noticed. Of course she had. How dumb was he, thinking she never had?

“I’m sorry, Keyne. It’s, you know, for guys, it’s—”

“Nothing. I know.” Her head dipped and she curled in on herself in his arms. She swallowed. “That’s why I asked but I didn’t think...”

She scoffed and his chest collapsed. “I’m not dumb. I didn’t actually think you thought about me like that. I remember your girlfriends. Why don’t you have girlfriends anymore?”

Fuck.Because they’d be threatened by you and they should be? Because you needed me too much and what I get from you is most of what I need, more than I’ve ever had from anyone else? Because I’d rather jerk off to thoughts of you than come inside someone else and because when I’ve tried to fantasize about other women all I think of is you?“Busy.”

“Yeah, but you’ve always been busy.” She rolled away from him and looked him in the face. “I’m sorry I ruin everything. I’ll be at college next year, you can have your life back.”

“No. Don’t say that, Keyne. Not for a second since you’ve come here have I regretted it. I’ve been exactly where I wanted to be and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re not a chore, you’re a privilege and I won’t have you thinking any differently. If anyone makes you feel otherwise, they’re wrong. They’re flat out fucking wrong.” He meant every word of it, and even as he wished for her to find a partner who would treat her that way—who would care for her, and coddle her even while admiring how tough and intelligent she was, how funny and stubborn she could be, and yeah, her beauty. Another one of those things he’d tried not to think about, but she was more than girlishly pretty. The lines of her were elegant and lovely—he was also exceedingly jealous of this hypothetical man who would get to have her.

“But I’m—”

“No buts. You deserve to be loved for exactly who you are.”

“A busted-up mess?”

He cracked a smile. “Yeah.”

She scowled at him and it knocked all sense of reason from his head. If there was anything else he could want in a woman, he couldn’t think of what it might be. That’s what made him go off the deep end and give into the urges he’d been having for months.

He reached for her. Threaded his fingers through her hair and closed his fist. Leaned in, and... kissed her. Soft but firm, and she made a tiny startled noise, making him pull away. He was preparing his apology, guilt crushing his insides but she shook her head and lunged for him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth to his.

They kissed, closed mouth for a while until her tongue, tentative, licked his lower lip and he wanted to die. It was a toss-up between that and ravishment. He wanted to ravish her. But he made himself soft, receptive for her as she touched the tip of her tongue to his mouth and then inside. He drew her in, offering a slow small caress.Yes, Keyne, yes.

This was her choice. He’d let it be her choice, and if this was what she wanted... god save them both, but he wasn’t going to stop her.

The second she gave any indication whatsoever this was not what she wanted, he’d stop. She knew enough kickboxing to make a man who plied her with unwanted advances very sorry, and even if she didn’t want to use violent means, he hoped she’d become comfortable enough with him, trusted him enough, to say stop.

She was getting braver, her mouth open and hungry and he stilled himself to respond. Let her have anything she wanted, but not press anything on her. She stopped kissing him and with their faces still close, whispered against him, her lips brushing his. “Jasper? Kiss me, please? I want you to kiss me.”

His response was immediate. He would give her anything she asked for. If she wanted to be kissed, he would kiss her until the day he died. Not wanting to scare her, he held back some, but he explored her mouth and she moaned, a gaspy high-pitched thing that made his dick ache. He cupped her face in his hand and ran fingers into her hair. The feel and the taste of her were so diverting, it was only when she moaned again—this time louder—that he realized his hand was half wrapped around her throat, pressing her into the pillow.

He let go, ashamed of himself. Keyne wasn’t one of those women, the ones he’d met in specific contexts, who knew what to expect, who he’d negotiated with. She was an innocent. While he shouldn’t be doing this at all, he definitely shouldn’t be playing kinky games with her.

But then her hand was on his, pressing his fingers hard around her delicate neck, her pulse beating fast under his palm. Holy Jesus fucking hell. He pulled away, eyes wide. Keyne stared back at him, pink in the cheeks, her freckles not visible beyond the blush.

“I... I liked it. Don’t let go. Please, don’t make me...”

Her small mouth pursed. He stroked her hair with his free hand as her eyes darted away.Don’t leave, Keyne. Talk to me. Let me in.

“Don’t make you what?”

“Don’t make me feel bad because I...” She shook her head, blowing an audible breath out her nose. “You won’t understand.”

“Try me, sweetheart. When have I made you feel bad about something you wanted?”

He loved the way her eyebrows came together, arches of spun gold bunching above the bridge of her nose. She was thinking about it. And when she gave her answer, it slayed him, made pride burst right out of his fucking head. “Never. Not even when I...”

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