Page 13 of Jesse (Pecan Pines #6)

Jesse

“Give me five minutes,” I said, breathless with a sheepish grin as I fumbled with my keys. Beck raised an eyebrow but smirked.

“I’ll be counting,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world.

He wore that dang hoodie that made his collarbone peek out just enough to be distracting.

I darted inside my apartment like a man on fire. Because I was. On fire with anticipation. On fire with nerves. On fire with something I didn’t want to put a name to yet.

It was a mess. Not the good kind of mess either. The floor was a battlefield of clothes, shirts, socks, two jackets that somehow ended up in a heap by the couch.

“Dang it,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair as I kicked a pair of jeans under the couch.

I started gathering clothes like a madman, stuffing them into the laundry bin like I could magically erase the fact that I lived like an unsupervised bachelor most of the time.

Why was I nervous? I’d brought guys back here before. Hookups. Short flings that never made it past sunrise. But Beck… Beck wasn’t like that.

He wasn’t a one-night stand. I didn’t even know what we were yet, but I knew this: I wanted more than just one night.

A knock sounded behind me, followed by the creak of the door opening.

“I’m not the inspection police,” Beck called out with a teasing lilt. Then he stepped inside and blinked. “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned this place?”

“Hey,” I huffed, still holding a fistful of socks, “I’ve been busy solving murders and competing in food truck competitions. Domestic god isn’t on the resume right now.”

He laughed, actual, full-body laughter. The sound did something to me. Made my stomach flip. Made my wolf settle a little, like it liked the sound of Beck laughing too.

Beck strolled in, surveying the chaos with an amused look. “It’s like your clothes fought a war and gave up halfway.”

“Thanks for the support.”

He knelt down, started helping me pick up more clothes.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said quickly, watching him fold a hoodie that had been on the floor for three days. “Seriously, Beck, this probably ruined the mood.”

He straightened, gave me a look I didn’t expect. Soft. Open. A little flushed in the cheeks.

“It didn’t,” he said. “I kind of like seeing you like this.”

“Like what? Frazzled and messy?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s real. You always seem so in control. It’s nice seeing the other side.”

That hit something in me I wasn’t ready for. I coughed, turned away before he could read too much on my face, and headed into the kitchen. “Beer?”

“Sure,” he called.

The kitchen was the one place in the apartment that wasn’t a disaster zone. Go figure. I opened the fridge, grabbed two bottles, and cracked them open.

He came up behind me a second later, close enough that I could feel his heat at my back.

When I turned, he was right there.

His fingers brushed mine as he took the bottle. That little contact, barely a whisper of skin, sent sparks crawling up my arm. I stared at him a second too long, and he noticed.

His lips curved into that half-smile that made me stupid.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “You think we’ll survive the next competition round?”

Beck leaned against the counter, eyes glinting. “We survived the last one. Barely.”

“You mean I survived your perfectionist streak.”

He scoffed. “Please. If it wasn’t for my ‘perfectionist streak’ we wouldn’t have plated anything on time.”

“You’re lucky I think bossy looks good on you.”

His brows arched. “Oh, do you now?”

I took a long sip of my beer, but my eyes never left him. “I’m just saying. You make it hard to focus when you get all intense and focused. It’s kind of… hot.”

The air between us shifted. Slowed. Thickened.

I saw the moment he felt it too. His breathing changed, chest rising just a little quicker. His lips parted, eyes locked on mine. Without thinking, I stepped closer.

“Jesse,” he murmured, but didn’t move away.

“I’ve been trying to take this slow,” I said quietly.

“You suck at slow.”

I laughed. “I know.”

And then I kissed him.

His mouth met mine like we’d done this before in another life. Soft, but not hesitant. It was warm, sure, but it also had teeth.

His fingers fisted in my shirt, mine tugging him closer by the waist.

There was no shyness in the way he kissed me back, only hunger and heat and something wild, something neither of us wanted to name just yet.

I guided us out of the kitchen, still kissing, beer long forgotten on the counter.

Somehow we made it to the couch. He landed on top of me, straddling my lap, grinning down like he had me exactly where he wanted. Maybe he did.

I pushed his hoodie off his shoulders, let my fingers skim the warm skin beneath. He shivered under my touch.

“You always run this hot?” I asked, voice rougher than I meant it to be.

“Only around you.”

I leaned up, kissed his neck, and was rewarded with a soft inhale. He arched slightly, pressing closer.

The foreplay was a blur of heat and tension, kisses that turned into nips, touches that grew bolder.

His hands slipped under my shirt and I let him pull it over my head, watched his eyes flick over my chest like he wanted to memorize it.

“Bedroom?” I asked.

He nodded, breathless.

We made our way there between more kisses, more hands. Soon enough, we were both completely undressed.

Once in the room, I didn’t rush him. I took my time, laid him down like he was something precious.

Because, hell, maybe he was. It wasn’t just sex. I’d had sex. Plenty of it. But this?

This felt different. This felt like something I didn’t want to end.

Like I wanted to fall asleep beside him and wake up to his messy hair and tired eyes in the morning. We didn’t rush.

I crawled on top of Beck, kissing his mouth slowly, thoroughly enjoying myself.

He tasted like beer and something sweet, something uniquely him that I was quickly getting addicted to.

His lips were soft, parting under mine with a breathy sigh that made heat bloom low in my belly.

I kissed him again, deeper this time, savoring every slow drag and slide of our mouths, every gentle bite, every soft sound he made.

Beck’s hands roamed over my back, nails lightly grazing my skin as he pulled me closer.

Our bare chests brushed together and the contact, warm, intimate, grounding, and it nearly undid me.

I moved lower, pressing kisses along his jaw, then down his neck.

I lingered there, tongue darting out to taste the salty skin at the hollow of his collarbone, and Beck arched up into me like he couldn’t help it.

God, he was beautiful like this. Flushed, panting, eyes dark and dazed as he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world.

My lips found the tender spot between his shoulder and neck, and I froze. My gaze lingered there. On that soft, unmarked skin, and something primal stirred in my chest.

One word echoed through me like thunder: Ours.

My wolf surged up so fast it nearly stole my breath. He didn’t just whisper it. He claimed it, with raw certainty and bone-deep hunger.

Ours. Mate.

I shuddered, every nerve ending suddenly sparking with need. Not just for sex. Not just to touch or taste or take. It was deeper than that. More dangerous. I wanted to mark him.

Right there, on that delicate spot just beneath his neck.

I wanted to sink my teeth in and make him mine, brand him with my claim so every shifter from here to the damn border would know he belonged to someone. To me.

Because Beck wasn’t just some guy I liked. He wasn’t just a partner in food truck competitions or someone I flirted with over beers and brisket.

He was my fated mate. The truth of it hit like a punch to the gut, brutal in its clarity.

That was why this felt different. Why everything with him was sharper, sweeter, more intense than anything I’d ever experienced.

Why his laugh settled my nerves and his scent made my heart race. Why no one else had ever gotten under my skin like this.

Beck. My mate.

And yet… I couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Maybe he didn’t feel it. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Hell, I wasn’t sure if I was ready.

The last thing I wanted to do was scare him off or push him into something he wasn’t expecting, especially not when things were just starting to shift between us.

As much as my wolf clawed at me from the inside, urging me to mark, to claim, to seal the bond that had already rooted itself in my soul, I held firm.

Not yet, I told him. Be patient.

My wolf growled in protest, restless and insistent, but he obeyed. Barely.

He knew, deep down, that forcing it would only ruin what we had. Beck deserved the truth when he was ready. When we were ready.

So instead of sinking my teeth in, I lowered my mouth and pressed a soft kiss to that vulnerable spot, my lips lingering in reverence.

Beck shivered under me, eyes fluttering closed.

I moved my mouth lower, taking Beck’s thickening member between my lips. Beck moaned and I bobbed my head up and down. It didn’t take long for him to gasp.

I pulled away just as Beck came. Smiling down at him, I pressed a kiss to his mouth.

“Please, Jesse,” he whispered when I pulled away, and I knew what he was asking for.

I got off him, grabbed the lube from the bedside table and straddled him again.

Hefting his legs over my shoulders, I lubed his passage, sliding one, then two digits inside him. Deeming him ready, I slowly entered him until I was balls deep inside him.

Beck moaned beneath me as I started on a slow rhythm before picking up speed. Beck begged to go deeper, faster, and I happily complied.

Soon enough, I reduced us both to panting and sweating messes. I entered him again, hearing him gasp. Beck arched his back and I knew I found his sweet spot.

I made sure to hit his prostate every single time. Beck climaxed, screaming out my name. Several thrusts later, I followed.

The room fell away from my line of sight as the pressure building inside me burst. I remained inside him for a few moments, before pulling out.

I made a quick trip to the bathroom, grabbed some towels and returned to Beck, cleaning us both up.

And when we finally curled under the covers, tangled up in each other, Beck’s head resting on my chest and my hand spread across the warm, bare skin of his back, my wolf settled in a way it never had before.

Not just calmed. Content. Like every instinct, every primal itch that had been crawling under my skin for weeks had finally gone quiet. Comfort. Connection. Craving.

All of it, wrapped in the weight of Beck’s body against mine and the soft rise and fall of his breathing.

I exhaled slowly, threading my fingers through the mess of curls at the back of his neck, my other arm tucked around him protectively.

His scent was everywhere now. In my sheets, on my skin, in my lungs. And something about that felt right in a way nothing ever had before.

“This was…” Beck’s voice broke the silence, hushed and sleepy. He tilted his face up slightly, cheek brushing against my chest. “Amazing.”

My mouth curved in a slow, honest grin. “Yeah,” I said, voice just as quiet. “It really was.”

There was a long beat, the kind where you could either let the moment settle or push it one step further.

My wolf, lazy now but watchful, nudged me softly, silently urging me toward the latter. I hesitated, then found myself asking, “Stay a while?”

Beck didn’t answer right away. For a second, I thought he might pull away or make an excuse, but instead, he shifted, arms curling more securely around me.

“I think I might,” he murmured, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That answer? That simple, unguarded trust? It made something inside me ache. I felt my wolf stretch inside me, not restless this time, but… pleased. Reassured.

For now, he was appeased, satisfied with the closeness, the promise.

He’d gotten a taste of what it meant to lie beside our mate, to be wrapped in warmth and acceptance instead of lust alone.

But I knew that wouldn’t last forever.

The bond between us, between me and Beck, was real. Unmistakable. Bone-deep and soul-tied. I felt it in every beat of my heart and every brush of his skin against mine.

My wolf could wait. For now. He was quiet, content to bask in the closeness of our mate without baring teeth or making demands.

But he didn’t possess endless patience, and neither did I. I closed my eyes and let the rhythm of Beck’s breathing lull me.

“You’re warm,” Beck murmured, his voice trailing off into a soft yawn.

“Good,” I said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Means you’ll sleep better.”

He hummed and nuzzled in closer, his fingers tightening slightly around my waist.