Page 5 of Jett in Jeopardy

Jett’s frame convulsed against me. His stomach heaved once before he emptied pink puke down the front of both of us.

“Fuck!”

I froze, the stink wafting up to my nose in the cold air. Jett didn’t seem to notice that I cursed. His eyes were closed again, and he was leaning heavily against me. I wasn’t sure he was even still conscious. I sighed. At least Jett had emptied his guts out here instead of inside the apartment.

Once I unlocked the door and went inside, I flicked on the lights overhead. Jett winced and turned his face into my chest as if he could sense the light even with his eyes closed. He hadn’t passed out yet. Hopefully, that would make cleaning him up easier.

“Come on, kid,” I said, and resumed dragging him through the living room and down the hall to the bathroom. After turning on the shower and letting the water heat, I peeled Jett from my side and propped him up against the wall. He whimpered a little, opened his eyes and blinked as if struggling to focus.

“I've got to get you cleaned up,” I told him.

“I’m tired,” he murmured.

“I know, but you can’t go to sleep covered in puke.”

While he was semi-coherent, I dragged off my stained t-shirt and puke-spattered jeans, then standing in my underwear, I turned back to Jett. While I helped him balance with one hand, I tugged his shirt over his head with the other before popping the fly on his jeans and tugging them down his legs.

Once he was standing in just his boxer briefs, I turned back to the shower and checked the water temperature. I tried not to look at him too much. I didn’t want to be the creepy old guy ogling the barely coherent college student, but I’d have to be dead not to notice how good he looked, all lean, sinewy limbs, smooth chest.

God, he was beautiful.

It didn’t matter how fucking gorgeous I thought he was. The guy was off-limits.

I grasped Jett’s arm and pulled him under the warm spray with me, leaning him back against my chest, ignoring how good his slick skin felt against mine.

“Feels good,” Jett said, with a low moan that went straight to my cock.

I needed to get this done before the evidence of just how much I liked having Jett in the shower with me became obvious.

The challenge was on as I washed him as quickly as I could while still trying to keep him upright and doing my best to keep my movements as impersonal as possible. Not letting myself think about how gorgeous he looked with warm water sluicing down his toned limbs. How well his lean frame fitted with mine when he leaned his back into my chest, or how long it had been since I’d been this intimate with anyone.

I had sex, of course. I wasn’t a saint, but it had been years since I let anyone into my home, into my space—not since Ryan.

What was happening with Jett wasn’t intimacy. I was cleaning puke off a college kid who didn’t know his limits, that’s all.

Once out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and then dried off Jett, but as I toweled him off, my gaze flicked to his soaking wet underwear, clinging to him like a second skin. I’d left them on while in the shower to give him some privacy, but now he had nothing to wear that wasn’t soaking wet or covered in puke.

“Shit.” I hadn't thought this through.

Hoisting him against me, I dragged him down the hall. He’d roused some before I pulled him into the shower, but now he was fading fast. His eyes were closed, and his head was lolling to one side as if he just didn’t have the strength to hold it up.

I sat him down at the end of my bed and cupped the side of his face to try to get him to look at me, but his eyes remained closed.

“Hey,” I said. “You still with me?”

“’M here,” he murmured.

“Okay. Good. I’m just going to find you something dry to wear, okay?”

“Hm,” he managed, but at least it was a response.

I turned away from him long enough to dig through my dresser drawers until I found a pair of old gray and red checked pajama pants that I hadn’t worn in years. They’d be a little big on him, but good enough. Now, I just had to get him coherent enough that he could change from his wet underwear into these. I turned back to Jett and let out an exasperated chuckle. “You have got to be kidding.”

In the time it had taken me to find something for him to wear, he’d tipped backwards and was now sprawled across my bed, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths.

I leaned over him and gripped his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. “Jett.”

He didn’t so much as twitch. Now what? I couldn’t leave him to sleep in soaking wet underwear, but there was no way he would be able to change out of them on his own.

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