Page 8

Chapter 8

Apollo

I’m living through some unprecedented times—a full weekend of time off. No dressing up. No going out, no putting on a show or pretending. No looks, no touches, no soul-crushing effort. Two entire days of doing nothing and lounging around. That is, besides the laundry.

It would be a lie if I said I enjoy the domestic chores, but someone has to do them. It definitely won’t be Jasper, and he hates the idea of having anyone else in his space, so it falls on me. Still, it’s better than having to work and doesn’t take too long, anyway.

I’ve organized and cleaned my makeup brushes by the time the first batch is done. As I fold and bring the clothes to the bedroom to put them away, I notice a shirt that must have fallen behind the laundry basket before and therefore didn’t get washed.

Groaning, I drop the fresh clothes on the bed and go pick it up. One of Jasper’s shirts. Of course. He always just throws them in the direction of the basket.

I flip it around in my hand and see dried-up blood on both of the sleeves. My heart sinks. It doesn’t look very old. Is this from last night, when he came back after I went to sleep?

Another shirt ruined. How many has it been?

There’s no way I can get the blood out of the fabric, so I take the shirt to the bin in the kitchen. A sense of uneasiness follows me. Not just because this was a gift for one of Jasper’s first birthdays we spent together.

Lately, he’s been working a lot more than usual. Always sorting out some important things and big deals that I don’t need to be burdened with the details of.

Of course, I never do. It never even bothered me, Jasper not wanting to discuss the intricacies of his job, because why would it? I’m just a prostitute. He’s right about me not having to burden my mind with all the stuff he does, and yet…recently, there’s so much that goes on with him without me it makes me feel a bit lonely.

Lonely… I chuckle to myself, amused by my own stupid thoughts. Why should I feel lonely? I have everything I could ever need.

I settle on the couch with a tub of ice cream and search for makeup tutorials on my phone, waiting for Jasper to come home. He hasn’t been responding to my messages, which must mean he’s busy. So…I wait.

It’s not until a few hours later that I hear the door click. Half asleep watching some random reality show, I jerk awake and turn to it. He grunts while getting his shoes off, hidden from me in the entrance’s darkness. Standing up quickly, I switch the TV off and go turn the ceiling light on.

“Jaz,” I blurt, seeing him squinting at me with an annoyed groan, more blood covering his forearms and face—this time definitely fresh. “Are you okay?” I hurry to him, gently placing my hands on his chest.

“Lemme sit down at least,” he mutters, avoiding my gaze before plopping down on the kitchen table chair. I study him with my heart pounding inside my throat. His knuckles seem swollen and tender. It’s safe to say most of the blood isn’t his.

“What happened?” I ask as I kneel in front of him. Finally he meets my eyes, the striking azure of his sending ice through my veins. There’s that short-tempered, dangerous unpredictability radiating out of them. He hasn’t come home like this in a while.

“Work,” he retorts sharply. Seeing the way I gulp and withdraw, Jasper sighs and grabs my hand, drawing it toward his mouth to kiss it.

I notice a spot on his sleeve that’s saturated with blood, unlike the random splatters everywhere else. With a gasp, I take his wrist and pull it up to inspect it, making him let out a quiet hiss of pain. “You’re hurt. Is that from a knife?” I ask, widening my eyes. Jasper lets me spread the fabric of his cut up shirt to reveal the long laceration. It doesn’t look horribly deep. “I can fix this,” I say the first thing on my mind out loud and hop up to get the first aid kit before he can say anything.

Adrenaline pumps through me, and I’m grateful. No matter how worried I am or even uncomfortable with injuries, I’ve done this before, and I know I need to focus to patch him up.

Jasper sits patiently and fairly motionlessly while I clean and dress his wound. He looks down at me without a word the entire time. His pheromones take on that unusual, yet familiar scent. The same smell, only as if laced with aggression.

Coupled with the way I sense his unrelenting gaze on me, I feel myself getting anxious. Thankfully, I manage to treat the injury and stop it from bleeding.

With a deep sigh, I put the rest of the bandages in the first aid box and slowly lift my head to look up at him. I hope to see the face of Jasper I do when we wake up together in the mornings, basking in the sunlight in each other's embrace.

But it isn’t him .

It’s still the Jasper that just came home after beating someone until his knuckles tore open. All those sweet, loving qualities only I have the privilege of being shown are suddenly hidden somewhere behind this volatile, terrifying rage he carries.

I jolt when he clicks his tongue in a mean, mocking way. He shakes his head while hanging it down. “I hate how you look at me in moments like these,” he says, his voice deep and rumbling. My breath hitches and I tense up. “Like I’m some kind of monster.”

He sounds as though he despises me. I try to talk myself out of thinking that. Of course he doesn’t. He loves me . So why is there so much bitterness in his words?

“I…”

Nothing is coming out. Shit. Jasper’s pheromones change from resembling a fresh, lovely ocean air to standing on a beach in the middle of a bone chilling night.

As he grabs my chin and pulls it up so I face him, I feel my whole being constrict. I don’t want to fear him. I don’t want him to think that I do. His gaze is jaded, somehow, and the smile on his lips isn’t genuine. “Everything I do…I do to make a good life for the both of us. All these nice things—the pretty clothes, expensive jewelry, makeup, the entire package… I do what is necessary for you to have all that. Everything you might want.”

Hypnotized by his commanding aura, I stare at him, lips parted.

I don’t need all those things , I want to say. I only need you.

“I know,” I whisper, breathless.

Jasper’s expression finally shifts into a softer one. The light slowly returns to his eyes. “It’s good. That you are away from all this,” he says, glancing at his bloodied knuckles while he runs his thumb across my lip. He moves closer. “You’re too precious and fragile. The burden is mine…even if you might hate me for it.”

“I don’t hate you,” I blurt out desperately, pressing my forehead against his.

I hear him chuckle. Hooking his hand around my nape, Jasper relaxes against me, finally releasing all of that pent up anger and coming back to us . Still, something about him makes me uneasy. Whatever happened must have frustrated him a lot. Maybe he just needs to relax. The only thing I can do is to help him feel better.

“Let me take care of you,” I whisper, moving in for a kiss. I pull his hand off my neck and guide it down toward my ass. Jasper doesn’t need much convincing to act on his own. He responds hungrily, twisting his tongue with mine and sliding his fingers underneath my clothes to reach my entrance.

He doesn’t even undress me before lifting me up and taking me from behind against the table. Like some ravenous beast, he thrusts in and out while holding my hands above my head, pinned against the wood. His pheromones warp my senses, making me melt under him.

This isn’t the usual emotional sex Jasper and I have. I realize quickly, once he comes inside of me and then immediately flips me around on my back only to lift my legs up over his shoulder and start fucking me again, as hard as a rod, that he might be starting his rut.

The thought makes me roll my eyes with exhaustion. Keeping up with Jasper in his rut is a daunting task. And with me having a day off tomorrow? I’ll most likely end up locked up in here, getting railed mercilessly in every room at every position until his hormones settle down. And on Monday, a slew of clients complaining about missing me over the weekend will hound me on top of that.

I catch myself having these thoughts and pause internally.

I shouldn’t be like this. Annoyed with Jasper for something he can’t control. I am the one he spends his rut with. I’m the one he wants. The only one.

Having these sorts of feelings isn’t good. Lately, I’ve been a mess. I need to find a way to pull myself together before I start spiraling. Already, the small, inconspicuous thoughts pop into my head here and there. Thoughts of using drugs as a crutch again that I thought left me completely. Jasper would hate nothing more than for me to slip to that.

No. I can’t do that. There has to be something else. Maybe…spending time with another person would help?

I almost surprise myself when that idea pops into my head. To think of it, I’ve never actually used my side of this whole open relationship thing we have. Never before have I felt like it. Jasper was always enough. I never needed more. And I don’t need anyone else, but it just…feels like an idea I might want to explore now.

“Look at me while I fuck you, Apollo,” Jasper orders, pulling me from my thoughts. He’s holding my cheeks with a dangerous expression on his face. Droplets of sweat run down his forehead.

I obey, staring him right in the eye as he thrusts harder, almost like he’s trying to make a hole through my insides.

This question is definitely best left to later. Jasper becomes way too possessive in his rut for me to even entertain that.

Pressing his thumb firmly against the tip of my cock, he gets my attention again. Grinding his teeth, he bites on my lip, letting me know that if I stray away one more time, there’ll be hell to pay.

?

“Are you feeling better, doll?” Jasper whispers into my ear while he gently runs his hand through my wet hair. I lean into him more, hearing the water splash out of the tub.

“Mhmm… I feel as good as I can after two days of incessant fondling,” I mutter, resting the back of my head on his shoulder behind me. Jasper smiles against my neck before placing a kiss there. Thankfully, he does as he promised. He doesn’t push me or try anything. This bath is nothing more than that—a bath. Only something to help my aching, abused body recover, hopefully. I don’t think I could handle another go.

“I’m sorry,” he says, petting me on the head again. Right now, his pheromones are the opposite of what they were when he got home. They soothe me and make me feel safe.

Jasper just after his rut is my favorite. Placid, soft and agreeable.

“You should be,” I note with a smirk. “You should be especially sorry on behalf of the clients who expected me to work today.”

He squeezes me tightly against himself so that I feel his heart pounding against my skin. “I wasn’t quite ready to let you go, unfortunately. Lucky for you, I know your boss, and he’ll let it slide. Thanks to that pretty face of yours.”

I chuckle, turning around to him to share a kiss. I miss his playful side.

As I tenderly run my finger down his cheek, basking in his sky-blue eyes, I’m happy, no matter my aching body.

“There’s something you want to say,” he says suddenly. He doesn’t sound upset, only curious. With hesitancy, I rest my hand against his muscular chest as it lifts and falls down slowly. A part of me wants to forget that silly idea. To not risk the possibility of ruining this moment. And yet…I did keep thinking about it, even today. “Tell me.” He presses gently.

Swallowing, I push through my doubts and speak up. “I was thinking… N-not while we were doing it! But in general, for a few weeks, that maybe I could…I could use having some casual sex outside of work, you know?”

I feel a wave of regret as soon as the words come out of my mouth. Fear grips me. Intently, I watch Jasper for the slightest change in his expression. All he does is raise his brows lightly.

“Oh.”

Oh? What does that mean?!

“It’s not that I’m missing anything in particular or I’m unhappy,” I clarify swiftly, sploshing more water out of the bath by accident as I straighten my back. “I’ve just been feeling really unmotivated at work, and with you being so busy lately, I’d rather…not push whatever this is on you. It is nothing serious. More of a distraction.”

Why do I feel like a stuttering mess all of the sudden?

“Why not?” Jasper remarks lightly, making me narrow my brows in surprise. “Our agreement was clear. As long as we tell each other it’s supposed to happen, and we both agree… You’re free to do whatever or whoever you want, sweetheart,” he says, twisting a strand of my hair that falls across my face around his finger with a smile. “Provided that I know who, where, and when. You know I like to be informed. Keep track of what’s going on. Especially when it comes to what my precious doll is doing.”

The uncomfortable knot contorting my insides releases somewhat. Still, it’s making me uneasy to see Jasper this agreeable. Was I supposed to ask him later, when he’s no longer addled on the feel-good post-rut hormones?

Then again, it’s not like he’s incapable of making rational decisions right now.

“Th-thank you for understanding,” I say, trying to shake off the weird sensation. I shouldn’t act like he never let me have anything.

Jasper smiles contently, not a hint of insecurity to be seen. Maybe I was way overthinking for no reason like I always do.

“Anyone specific you’re thinking of?” he asks, cocking a brow.

“No,” I blurt out the answer immediately, even if a face does appear in my mind. Why am I lying about it? “I just wanted to know if you’d be open to it first. I’ll see if the opportunity presents itself, I guess,” I say with a shrug, and rest my head on his chest to avoid meeting his eyes.

Kobe.

Kobe’s face came to mind the moment Jasper asked. I don’t understand why. It makes no sense, really. To think in that way about another omega. When have I ever?

A part of me doubts he would even be interested.

Still…those gentle eyes, widening at me with soft, genuine concern each time we’ve been together, haunt me tenderly. I want to see them and his pretty face flustered. If the honesty he’s shown me is the bare minimum, how glorious would he look moaning underneath me, completely surrendered and exposed?

I don’t understand why I have these unusual thoughts—all I know is that they feel right .