Page 24 of Crossroads

TWENTY-THREE

It’s getting late in the day, and Jasper still hasn’t come back to the farm. I didn’t think he’d stay longer than an hour, so I guess maybe I’m a little concerned.

He’s a grown man, and I know he can handle it. But also . . . he was nervous. I don’t think he actually wanted to go, no matter how guilty that made him feel.

So when Kelly suggests I go to his parents’ and check on him, I’m only mildly ashamed at how fast I jump at the chance. I drive to the address she gave me and look at the nice modest, white house at the end of the block and frown when I don’t see Jasper’s truck here.

I decide to knock on the door and smile when it’s Logan who pulls it open excitedly. “Emerson! You came to play with me?”

“Hey, buddy,” I say fondly because the kid is really cute. I ruffle his hair and kind of sidestep that question because I’m not going to tell him I’m not here to play with him. “I was looking for your brother.”

“Hi.” I hear a soft voice and see Jasper’s mother coming up to the door. “Jasper left about two hours ago.”

My belly does a flip and then sinks. “Two hours ago?”

Logan looks sad, and his mother brushes her hand over his hair. “He didn’t go back to the farm?”

I shake my head. “No.”

I can see the worry on her face and on Logan’s.

I don’t like it. Something must have happened, but neither really give me a clue.

His mom clears her throat softly and sighs, “You might want to check the football field. I know he used to go there on tough days. If he’s not at the farm, I assume that’s where he is. ”

Football field? Really?

I didn’t realize he was such a jock, but that’s fine. She gives me general directions to get there, and I thank her and say goodbye to Logan before I drive out, finding the football field where she said it would be.

It’s totally empty, which makes sense with it being summer and a Sunday. Seems like the whole town shuts down on Sundays.

I climb out of my car and walk down to the gate, letting myself into the stadium, terrified of what I might find.

I see Jasper right away when I step on the field, lying flat on his back and looking up at the sky with an empty bottle next to him.

Well, this isn’t good.

I walk over to him and see it’s an empty vodka bottle. “You drank an entire bottle of vodka?”

He barely moves his head to look at me, his expression almost bored. “It was almost empty already, and that was hours ago, so the buzz is already wearing off. You should just go.”

“Not a chance,” I say and sit down on the ground next to him. “What happened?”

“Go away, Emerson,” he says, his eyes no longer looking all that bored. They’re full of fire now, and I can handle that.

“No,” I say easily and then lie down next to him, our heads only an inch apart as I look up at the clouds rolling in above us. “What happened?”

“What happened is my father hates me. That’s what happened. And I deserve it.”

“Bullshit,” I say, letting my head fall to the side to look at his profile. “Bullshit,” I say again, a little more firmly this time.

His head rolls to the side, his eyes fixing on mine. “He hates me.”

His eyes are a little puffy and red, likely from crying, and my heart cracks open for him. “He doesn’t.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I don’t,” I say, but that doesn’t change anything. No one could hate Jasper. He’s impossible to hate. I tried. “But he doesn’t hate you. He likely hates this whole situation, but he doesn’t hate you.”

“You didn’t hear him. You didn’t see his eyes.”

“Jasper,” I say, desperately wanting to make it better and not having a clue how to do it. He sits up and wipes at his eyes furiously, and I sit up too, wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight.

I don’t say anything else because what can I say?

I can’t make the pain go away for him. As luck would have it, just then, the sky opens up and starts pouring down on us. The sky is black, and there’s a crack of lightning that briefly brightens it before it goes dark again.

“Come on,” I say, pulling him up. He struggles, but I eventually get him to his truck and shove him inside, climbing in behind him.

“Rain in July. Fucking fantastic,” he grumbles. He’s soaking wet, and so am I. The rain is pelting the windshield, and it’s almost peaceful how loud it is, hitting the metal on top.

We’re in our own little cocoon.

“Rain is good for crops, I hear,” I say with a slight smile.

His eyes roll, but there’s a little hint of a smile on his face. I’ll take it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“True,” I say and then grasp his face in my hands, both of us shivering from the cold. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m any less sorry you have to go through this. You’re the strongest person I know, Jasper. Most would have run far away, but you don’t. Even if you think that’s what you did. You didn’t. You stay. You’re there.”

He shakes his head, my hands holding onto him. “I miss him.”

I nod my head, brushing away what I think is probably a tear from his cheek and not just water from the sky. “I know you do, baby. But you’ll get him back.”

“Why can’t I just fix it?” He sounds so broken. So tired. And I hate this for him, but it’s also just another reason why I love him.

The thought is surreal. I love him. There’s no denying it anymore. I love him for exactly who he is. This strong, stubborn man who takes everything on himself. He silently lives with his own pain while he’s busy being strong for everyone else.

But I want to be his strength. I want to give him that.

I kiss him softly, tasting a hint of vodka on his tongue when he hungrily pushes it into my mouth. He doesn’t want to talk anymore, and I’m okay with that.

We can talk later. I want him to take everything he needs from me. I realize we were meant to find each other. I’ve spent my whole life being selfish, and he’s done the opposite, being selfless. It’s time for me to give back.

We kiss like starving men, the rain forming a wall against the outside world as it pelts his truck in thick sheets.

I remove his soaked shirt, and he does the same for me.

I’m thankful his old rusty truck has bench seats when we both remove our jeans and then underwear, and I straddle his thick thighs, kissing the hell out of his sweet mouth.

“I want you inside me.”

His hands are on my naked hips, his head pulling back the small amount allowed by the cramped cab of the truck. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m ready for this. You don’t want it?”

I watch him swallow thickly, his tongue poking out and licking his dry lips. “You know I do, but I don’t need a pity fuck.”

I pinch his side, and he swats me away. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. I don’t pity you, Jasper. I’m in awe of you.”

His big hand sweeps up to my jaw, cupping it as he looks at me intensely. “I don’t want your first time to be in a truck. All cramped and shit.”

I grin at him. “It’s hardly my first time.”

His hand that is resting on my hip moves to my ass and swats it hard, only serving to make my dick harder. “Brat.”

“I’m your brat.” I lean forward, relishing the touch of his hand on my face. Wanting him. Wanting this more than I’ve ever wanted anything. “I have lube. We’ve been tested. I want this.”

He lets out a shaky breath and then nods silently. No more words.

We don’t need them.

I grab the lube packet from my jeans and open it, my nerves starting to kick up a little, but Jasper won’t have that.

He’s back to his sure, confident self when he takes the lube packet in his hand, squirting a generous amount into his hand.

I think he’s going to finger me again, but instead he slicks up his cock and then mine.

His free hand wraps around the back of my neck and he pulls me in for a kiss, his lips doing the directing now, telling me to relax. His mouth calming me as he strokes us both together in his big hand.

I get lost in the moment. Just feeling. His tongue stroking over mine. Our hard shafts pressing together as we thrust into his fist. The nerves are gone, and it’s just him and me and the rain.

I grip his shoulders and lift up when he slides his hand down my back and over my ass, he adds more lube to his hands before he wraps one around us again and then uses the other to press lube into my hole.

One finger, then two, then three.

It’s a stretch and a little uncomfortable, but it doesn’t take long before I’m thrusting into his fist and then pushing back on his fingers, riding them and begging him to make me come.

“Do you want to come just like this, baby?” he asks against my lips. “Or do you want my dick inside you?”

“Ngh,” I barely choke out. He’s stolen my ability to form words. “I don’t know,” I gasp, riding his fingers and enjoying the feel of his leaking cock sliding against mine in the tight grip of his fist.

I’m close, nearly blowing when he strokes over my prostate, but I stop him.

“Your dick. I want this.” I make the decision and pull back to look into his eyes, making sure he wants this too.

He gives me a clipped, stilted nod, and I’d think he was having second thoughts if I didn’t know him better. He wants this too. He removes his fingers, leaving me achy and needy, but he encourages me to lift up, gripping his cock and guiding it to my hole.

“You’re in charge,” he whispers against my lips and then lets go of his own dick to grab mine, slowly stroking me as I breathe raggedly and lower myself down onto the head of his thick shaft.

“Oh fuck,” he says, his free hand gripping my hip, his nails digging into my skin as he strokes me slowly and carefully, his thumb swiping over my tip and making me shiver.

It hurts. I can’t lie. I only get the head of his cock inside me before I have to stop. But then I lean forward and kiss him, letting my body relax before I take more inside me. The muscles give way and allow him access, and soon he’s filling me to the brim, deeply seated and making us one.

The burn fades, and soon I’m rolling my hips, lifting up and taking him back into my body over and over as he strokes me and kisses down my neck and back up to my lips, whispering encouraging words about how well I’m fucking him.

He lets me take control, despite him being the one inside me. He lets me use his body, but he’s an active participant, for damn sure. When we find just the right angle, where his cockhead strokes over my prostate, I nearly lose it, dribbling precum all over his hand.

“Close. So close,” I say, gripping his shoulders and riding him, hitting that spot deep inside me over and over as he thrusts up with sure, precise strokes.

“So good. So damn good,” he says, swallowing my tongue and licking into my mouth as he fucks me so good, I know I’m ruined for anyone else.

This is all I want.

He’s all I want.

I come, my cock jerking in his hand and spraying all over him, my ass clenching tight around his dick that jerks inside me, and I can feel the heat of his cum when he finds his own release.

I rest my body against his, his cock still inside me but starting to soften. My eyes close when he starts to run both his hands down my spine.

I want to stay here forever.