Page 46

"Wait," Saul said, reaching for him. "Please don't run. Let's talk about this."

Jesse shook his head, his face flushing. "I can't... I need a minute." He turned and disappeared down the hall, his footsteps quick but not running – a small mercy that meant he wasn't fleeing in blind panic like that first night.

When we heard his bedroom door close, Saul turned to me, his expression unreadable. "Well," he said softly. "That happened."

I ran a hand through my hair, my mind racing. "It was an accident.”

"I know," Saul said, his voice gentle as he reached for my hand. "But I also saw the look on both your faces."

I sank onto the couch, the joy of my promotion momentarily forgotten. "This is messy, Saul. He's vulnerable, he's been through hell, and we're supposed to be helping him heal, not..." I trailed off, not even sure what to call what had just happened.

"Not falling for him?" Saul finished quietly, sitting beside me.

I looked at him sharply. "Are you?"

Saul's eyes met mine, steady and honest as always. "I think I've been falling for him since the day you brought him home. And I think you have too."

I couldn't deny it. Over these past weeks, Jesse had become so much more than just someone we were helping.

The way he fit into our lives, his quiet strength despite everything he'd endured, the way his rare smiles lit up his entire face – I'd been noticing it all.

The way he responded to every instruction I gave even if I tried to make them less so.

"Even if that's true," I said carefully, "it doesn't mean we should act on it. He's not ready for that kind of relationship. Hell, he might never be ready after what that monster did to him."

"I know," Saul agreed. "But I also know that avoiding this conversation won't make these feelings go away." He squeezed my hand. "We should talk to him.”

I stood and held my hand out to Saul. We could hear the muffled sobs at the door, and I didn’t even attempt to knock, just pushed in.

Jesse was curled up on the bed, his back to the door, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

I stared at Saul’s old teddy bear Jesse was clutching.

The sight broke my heart. I crossed the room in three strides, Saul right behind me.

"Jesse," I said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Please look at me."

He shook his head, burying his face deeper into the pillow. I wasn’t even sure if he knew he had the bear in a death grip. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I keep messing everything up."

"You haven't messed anything up," Saul said, settling on his other side.

"And that kiss wasn't your fault,” I added. “If anything, it was mine for pulling you into our hug."

Jesse finally turned, his face tear-streaked and vulnerable.

"But I wanted it," he whispered, the words clearly costing him.

"I've wanted it for weeks. Both of you. And I know that's wrong and messed up after everything with Graham, and you're both together and happy and I'm just this broken thing you took in and?—"

"Stop," I said firmly, my Dom voice slipping out before I could catch it. Jesse immediately fell silent, his eyes widening. I gentled my tone. "You're not broken, Jesse. And wanting connection, wanting touch—that's not wrong. It's human."

Saul reached out, slowly enough that Jesse could pull away if he wanted to, and brushed a tear from his cheek. "We've wanted it too," he admitted quietly.

Jesse's breath caught and his gaze darted between us, disbelief warring with hope on his face. "Both of you?" he whispered.

"Yes," I confirmed, my voice low and steady. "But we didn't want to pressure you or make you feel uncomfortable. Your healing has to come first, and staying here has no conditions. Ever. "

"But I feel safe with you," Jesse said, his voice gaining strength. "For the first time in so long, I feel... like I can breathe. Like I'm a person again, not just a thing to be used."

Saul's hand found mine across the bed, squeezing gently. "We've talked about finding someone to share our lives with for years," he explained. "Someone who would complement what we both need."

"What do you mean?" Jesse asked, sitting up slightly, his brow furrowed.

I took a deep breath, knowing we were crossing a line that couldn't be uncrossed. "Saul and I love each other completely, but our needs aren't always compatible. I need someone who responds to my control, who thrives under it. And Saul?—"

"I need someone who lets me take care of them," Saul finished. "Someone who enjoys being spoiled and protected in a way Chris can't."

Understanding dawned in Jesse's eyes. "And you think... that could be me?"

"We think it could be," I said carefully. "But only if it's something you want too. And only when you're ready."

Jesse was quiet for a long moment but then in a flurry of movement he launched himself into my arms, reaching out a hand and pulling Saul close. He looked me right in the eye. “You’re a Dom.”

I nodded.

He glanced at Saul who I saw had an encouraging smile on his face.

“Which means,” he said slowly, “that I can’t initiate a kiss,”—he blushed—“or anything else.”

I was lost for words which wasn’t like me at all, but Saul chuckled softly. “He has you there.”

“So that means,” Jesse said slowly, “that I have to wait to be told to kiss you?”

I grinned myself. “Not exactly, but it gives us something to work with.”

He lifted his chin. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Jesse's challenge hung in the air between us, his blue eyes bright with a mixture of hope and trepidation. I felt a smile tugging at my lips, appreciating his boldness even as I recognized the vulnerability beneath it.

"Are you sure?” I asked. “You have to consent." My voice dropped to the register I used when I was in control. The effect was immediate—Jesse's pupils dilated, and his breath hitched slightly.

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm sure."

I cupped his face gently, my thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone. "Then kiss me, sweetheart."

Jesse leaned forward without hesitation, pressing his lips to mine. This kiss was different from our accidental one—deliberate, tender, and full of promise. I kept it gentle, letting him set the pace, feeling him tremble slightly beneath my touch.

When we broke apart, his eyes were shining. He turned to Saul, who was watching us with a soft smile.

"Can I—" Jesse began, but Saul was already nodding, opening his arms.

Their kiss was beautiful to watch—Saul's natural tenderness meeting Jesse's cautious exploration. Something warm unfurled in my chest at the sight of them together, not jealousy but completion, as if a missing piece had finally clicked into place.

"This isn't going to be simple," I said when they separated. "We all have baggage, and you're still healing, Jesse."

Jesse nodded, his expression growing serious. "I know. And I'm... I'm still scared sometimes. Of everything. Of feeling too much." He took a shaky breath. "Graham tried to destroy me. Made me believe I was worthless except for..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

"You're worth everything," Saul said fiercely, his hand finding Jesse's. "And we'll go as slow as you need."

"What if I'm never... fixed enough?" Jesse asked, voicing his deepest fear. "What if I can't be what you both need?"

I shook my head. "That's not how this works, sweetheart. We don't need you to be 'fixed.' We just need you to be you. The rest, we figure out together."

Jesse looked down at their joined hands, then back up at me. "I want to try," he said softly. "I want this. Both of you." He chewed his lip and without even questioning it, I pulled it gently free. “I…I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Saul hummed, his hand snaking around Jesse’s neck. “Good thing we have a custom bed then.”

I would be gentle. Slow. But I wanted to see how he responded.

If he was really the submissive I thought or if he was too scared to think of disobeying me.

“Let Saul undress you.” Jesse’s pupils dilated at the order and I swear my heart skipped a beat.

Jesse gasped softly at my command, a visible shiver running through his slim frame.

His eyes met mine, wide and uncertain but with an unmistakable flicker of desire.

This was the moment of truth—would he obey because he wanted to, or because he was afraid not to?

"You can say no," I reminded him gently. "At any point."

He swallowed, then nodded. "I want this," he whispered, turning toward Saul.

Saul's hands were infinitely tender as they reached for the hem of Jesse's t-shirt. "May I?" he asked, waiting for Jesse's nod before slowly lifting the fabric. Jesse raised his arms, allowing Saul to pull the shirt over his head.

I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath at the sight of his torso.

The bruises had faded, but the scars remained—some thin and white, others raised and pink.

Evidence of systematic cruelty that made my blood boil.

Jesse instinctively crossed his arms over his chest, shame clouding his expression.

"Don't hide," I said softly. "You're beautiful."

"I'm not," he whispered, but he slowly lowered his arms, exposing himself to our gaze once more.

Saul leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly prominent scar near Jesse's collarbone. "Every mark shows how strong you are," he murmured. "How you survived."

Jesse shivered as Saul continued to press kisses to his skin. I noted Jesse lifted his hand as if he wanted to touch but didn’t dare. “Can you do something for me?” Jesse’s gaze darted to mine, nodding instantly, and I smiled. “Can you just lay there and let us spoil you?”

Jesse inhaled sharply and gave a full-body tremble, but I knew it wasn’t in fear.

I’d spent the last fifteen years of my life learning how to read body language, and I knew this was a mix of nerves and excitement.

Saul moaned in appreciation. I reached out for the teddy bear and, loving the faint blush that stole over Jessie’s cheeks, tucked him under the comforter, then stood and held my hand out.

The day stretched before me deliciously. We would spoil our boy, make him come hard, then Saul could run a bubble bath and care for him while I cooked. “Saul?” I said. “I think Jesse’s feeling neglected.”