Page 67 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

“Someone has to be, right? You deserve some time to fall apart if you need to.”

“True, and thank you, but for the moment, I’m too numb. I can’t help but think that my grandmother expected something everyone else didn’t. Why else would she set me and Kai up for life with money that my parents can’t touch?”

“I don’t know. I can’t figure out this society. Why else would a family let someone abuse a person for the first ten years of his life then let him live in poverty only to set him up with a bank account that is larger than most individuals will make in their lifetime? But maybe she had an idea your dad was up to something. I don’t know. I don’t want to imply anything, but it’s hard not to.”

“Jesus, this is all so fucked. What the hell are we going to do?”

“Right now, we are going to ignore it, order some food, and sit on this couch and waste the night away. I’m going to make you come so many times you’re going to beg me to stop.”

Liking the thought of that, I shiver. “I’m going to shower while you order Chinese, then I’m going to nap and rest up as we wait for it to get here.” I tilt my head up to look at him. He kisses the tip of my nose and I cup his cheek. He turns his head into my touch and kisses my palm next.

“That sounds like a solid plan.” I turn around and head toward the room. We can talk about the new furniture and how it got here later. “And, Outlaw?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t put any clothes on when you come back out.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, Jester.”

I stop dead in my tracks when I see the bedroom, and a gasp catches my breath. A king-size bed with fluffy white bedding sits in the middle, sans night stands. But on the wall above the bed is a stunning rendition of the Outlaw skull he drew for me that day when we were passing notes in class. It’s detailed, brightly colored, and popping off the wall.

Underneath, it’s signed The Jester and His Outlaw. After the day I’ve had, a strange bout of tears bubbles up in my eyes. I shake them off and make my way to the bathroom. Moving in with Riggs, my love, my Jester, is going to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I can already tell.

“I’m notthe biggest fan of the white bedding, but I like the furniture in the living room,” I say to Riggs the next morning. He’s in the kitchen, in the middle of making pancakes for us. I slept in a little, needing it after our adventures last night. That’s the only way to describe them. Riggs brought me to climax so many times I honestly lost count, but he wouldn’t let me touch him. I tried to explain to him I enjoyed seeing him come, but he was relentless in his pursuit of bringing me pleasure.

I got him back though because in the middle of the night, he woke to me stroking and sucking his beautiful cock.

“This is our fresh start,” he explains. “I bought the necessities so we could sleep here last night but figured the rest of it, we could do together.”

“You bought the couch and the bed? You used the money from Mr. Tucker?” He spares me a glance over his shoulder from the stove.

“Yes, and please don’t make a big deal of it.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “The bedspread is like the one I have in my room at my old place. We can paint it together if you’d like, or we can buy something of your choosing later. It’s up to you.”

He scoops the last pancake out of the pan and drops it on the plate, placing the steaming pile directly in front of me. In the shape of a heart is the gooey goodness of chocolate chips. Before I can dig in, Riggs captures my lips in a searing kiss, making me grateful that I’ve already brushed my teeth. I barely had the energy to do anything this morning, but I’ve already been up for a run. A run where Chandler and three other guards accompanied me in formation. I was like the president with the secret service trailing me. It was quite the debacle, but I felt safe and could get my exercise in.

“What was that for?” I ask when he pulls away and allows air to penetrate my lungs. “Not that I’m complaining.”

He adjusts himself in his sweats and I’m not shy in the way I watch him. “Like something you see, Outlaw?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

The corner of his lips turns up into a smirk as he grabs himself again. “That and this,” he kisses me again, “is because you’remineand I can.”

The way he growls those words has my pussy clenching, wishing he would bury himself to the root inside me. I would expect after last night I’d need a couple of days off, but my libido has other ideas.

“Yours? I love the sound of that.” The next kiss is slightly more innocent and brushes against the tip of my nose.

“Good. Now eat up. J and Mr. Tucker are coming over soon.” As he says that, the doorbell rings. “Scratch that, they’re coming over right now.” He glances at the clock, his eyebrows raising. I groan, not wanting to talk about what happened last night with them, but I know it’s necessary.

“‘Mornin’, y’all,” Riggs says when he greets them at the door. I guess now that we are living in a place together, Jensen isn’t going to just walk in anymore like he used to.

“‘Sup?” J says.

“Son,” the ever formal Mr. Tucker adds. They all join me in the kitchen, but Mr. Tucker takes the time to scan the place before he greets me. I’m sure he’d want Riggs to be living somewhere a little bigger, a little more extravagant, but if that’s what he’s thinking, he doesn’t pick the wound. At least living here is sort of under his roof, considering he owns the building. Then the thought occurs to me that maybe he’s never seen the inside of these apartments other than in pictures.

The air around the Tucker men, that is normally tense and volatile, doesn’t hold as much doom today. They seem lighter, more at ease with one another. It would be nice if they got along. J deserves to have a good relationship with his father. I think now that J realizes Mr. Tucker had decent intentions from the start, he has a better understanding of his father. If he had just told them both to begin with, he could’ve saved a ton of heartache.

“Are you guys hungry? I’ve made pancakes,” Riggs offers, pouring us two glasses of orange juice. “There’s coffee.”

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