Savage, p.15
Savage, page 15
The morning after his video call with Jazz, Mase woke yet again in a good mood. It lifted when he stepped off the elevator from the garage onto the first floor of HC, only to tank a few minutes later.
“Morning,” Dee said as she stepped out of the kitchen, coffee cup in hand.
“Morning.”
“I like that look on you, cher.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you and Jazz are doing things I don’t even want to think about.”
Mase chuckled. “That obvious?”
“Only because you’re both wearing the same smile.”
“Is he back already?”
She gave a nod and a wink. “I must admit, his smile has an edge of wariness to it.”
Mase wrapped an arm around her shoulder and leaned down to say quietly, “You work on him from your end. I’ll work on him from mine.”
“Mason Hart, I just told you that I don’t want to think about what you’re doing with your end.”
Mase threw back his head and laughed. Dee’s scandalized look was all for show. She knew everything that went on in HC, raunchy or not. She was the mother hen, and Wade was the drill sergeant. He had to admit that it was nice to have them both.
Being undercover was wearing on him. When this assignment was over, he’d give one of the other guys a chance at deep cover. Maybe for a few months he wouldn’t have to pretend he was straight, and he could really be with Jazz.
Mase dropped a kiss on Dee’s head and left her to her work. As he rounded the corner, he almost ran into Ax. They both took a step back and nodded at each other.
Mase moved around him. He was a few steps toward the gym when Ax said, “He didn’t know.”
There was no question who ‘he’ was, but Mase wondered what it was that Nick hadn’t known. Had Russ finally admitted the whole truth? Curiosity got the better of him, and he turned around to face Ax.
“Are you saying he didn’t know what an asshole Russel Hart is?”
“No. I think he had an idea about that.” Ax smirked. “He didn’t know your dad was moving here—or at least, he didn’t know until it was a done deal.”
Mase nodded, unsure what else to say.
“He fights with him, too…about you.”
“Nick?”
“Yeah. Ever since I’ve known him, he’s been fighting with Russ about letting you be. He did everything he could to keep Russ from moving here. He hasn’t told him the address to HC. He’s doing his best to protect you both, to give you what you both want. He feels stuck in the middle, and I have no idea how the fuck to help him.”
“Tell him he’s not fired.”
Ax snorted. “That needs to come from you. He wants a relationship with you, Mase, but he does have loyalty to your dad. He’s torn.”
“How many times do I have to say no?”
“Nick isn’t exaggerating about his health. He’s not in good shape. You said you were glad he didn’t turn Nick away. Imagine if he hadn’t turned you away. Imagine you were Nick, and you’d never actually seen that side of him. Imagine he told you he loved you no matter what, just like you wanted him to, just like he should have.” Ax put a hand on Mase’s shoulder before continuing.
“Sure, you’re pissed when you find out he didn’t treat your brothers the same way, and you even stop talking to him for months on end because you’re so angry. Then you find out he’s dying. The dad who told you he loved you no matter what is dying, and his last wish before he dies is standing right in front of you. How easy would it be for you to let it go and not ask one last time? If Russ dies today, you might not regret refusing to speak with him, but Nick would regret it if he didn’t take every opportunity to make that last wish come true.”
Mase took one breath, then two. He’d asked Nick to be empathetic, but he hadn’t been able to do the same.
“He knows he should keep his mouth shut around you. And each time he doesn’t, he beats himself up about it. My fear is that Russ will die and Nick will feel like he did all he could for his dad, but then his guilt will turn to you. He’ll realize that in doing that, he lost his chance to be your brother again. There’s no way for him to win here.”
“I feel the same way.”
Ax nodded. “He doesn’t expect you to actually forgive Russ.”
“Why would I?”
Ax breathed out through his nose. “No one’s asking you to. I didn’t know Russ before, but I imagine he’s a man who’s always had a hard time admitting he was wrong. He’s in a prison of his own making. He may still have money, but in every other sense, your situations have reversed. You’ve found love, and you’ve built your own family.”
“So I should forgive him because I succeeded despite him?”
“No. You don’t need to forgive him. But I don’t think you’ve told Nick the whole story. Bray knows something that Nick doesn’t, and no one will tell him. Make sure he has all the information, or all he can do is go with what he knows, what he sees. And what he sees is that his father has changed. And if we don’t let people change, accept that they can change and grow, why should they try? If we permanently label people as bigots because they were ignorant, why should they try to become informed if everyone has already written them off? If there’s no chance at redemption, why learn? Why grow? Why change?”
“I’m not responsible for my father’s redemption.”
“You’re not. Like I said, I don’t think Russ expects you to forgive him. And I’m not here on Russ’ behalf. I’m here because Nick is hurting. When I first met Nick, I thought he was an asshole to ask it of you, as well. Then I heard him trying to hold your dad back. If it were up to Russ, he’d blindside you. He’d show up here or at your condo. Just remember that even though he’s frustrated with you, Nick’s protecting you as well. He’s holding Russ at bay—and that’s not an easy task.”
“I can’t talk to Nick if he doesn’t come into HC. I’ll let him know that I might have overreacted, but I won’t seek him out at Russ’ to do it.”
“Fair enough. He’s taken some time off this week, but I’ll make sure he comes in next week.”
“You’re good for him,” Mase said.
“I think you got that backward,” Ax said with a salute before continuing down the hall in the direction he’d been headed.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jazz
He blew out a breath before raising his hand to knock on the door. Mase had been totally honest when he said the pace of this thing between them was firmly in Jazz’s hands.
Mase opened his door with a wide smile on his gorgeous face. He took a few steps back, swinging the door wider so Jazz could come in.
“I was hoping you’d take me up on my invitation. I was thinking we could relax, watch a movie, have some dinner.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I don’t just want you for sex. We’ve been friends a long time. You know me probably better than anyone else in the world.”
Why did that make his heart stutter? That sounded an awful lot like being best friends, which was what they were—or at least what they had been before Mase left the military and went deep undercover.
“Why don’t you relax on the sofa? I was making some pasta. I’ll dish it up while you pick a movie.”
When Jazz turned toward the living room, he stopped short. Mase had rearranged his furniture. The TV was on a different wall. His sectional had been moved to the corner of the room.
He darted his gaze to Mase, who was dishing food onto plates. Had he done this for Jazz? As he moved past the coffee table, Jazz plucked up the remote. He settled into the corner of the sofa, which was now firmly against the corner of the room. His body relaxed into the buttery soft leather as he pressed the button to turn on the TV.
“I should have known,” Mase said when the movie started playing. “I haven’t seen this in years. I couldn’t bring myself to watch it with Ukrainian-dubbed voices.”
They watched Princess Bride for probably the millionth time, quoting all the same parts, laughing at all the same parts—except one.
If you asked Mase what his favorite part of the movie was, he’d claim it was the sword fight between Dread Pirate Roberts and Inigo Montoya. But the part that always made him laugh—even though no one else usually did—was a little part that wasn’t even a joke, just a silly rhyme from Fezzik the giant, “Anybody want a peanut?” Mase’s laugh always made Jazz laugh.
And when that part came on, Jazz turned to Mase. He watched his mouth spread into a smile of anticipation. Then his lips parted as the laugh tumbled from him. Jazz realized he was smiling in response, chuckling like he always did. He also realized that this was what he wanted. It felt like a regular date—like more than a date, like a relationship.
Mase was careful not to move too close, not to touch Jazz as the movie played on. Jazz found himself watching Mase more than the movie. Was this sustainable? Could a relationship work if both people couldn’t really touch, even if they both wanted to?
It was probably them both wanting to but not being able to that would crumble what was between them. Jazz shook off those negative thoughts and tried to enjoy the moment, enjoy Mase’s laughter.
When the movie was over and the dishes put away, Mase gave Jazz a long look.
“I have a surprise for you,” Mase said with a wink.
“A surprise?”
“Yep. Follow me.”
Jazz followed Mase down the hallway and into his bedroom. Anxiety sparked in his gut, but he reminded himself of all the things Mase had done to earn his trust. In all the time they’d known each other, Mase had never done anything to break Jazz’s trust. It was time to give Mase the benefit of the doubt.
Jazz stopped short when he stood in the doorway to Mase’s bedroom. “You got a new bed?”
Mase’s smile turned wicked. As sexy as that was, it made Jazz’s stomach dip with fear. It was a predatory smile.
Then Mase did something that alleviated all Jazz’s worry. He walked to the top corner of the bed and lifted a stainless-steel chain. At the end of the chain was a studded leather cuff.
“It looks less secure because it’s leather, but it’ll hold me.”
Jazz nodded. He wasn’t sure what he felt inside at that moment—grateful, touched, cared for? All he knew was Mase’s thoughtfulness was more romantic than Jazz thought he wanted or needed from a relationship. Apparently, he both wanted it and needed it.
“You don’t mind?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“Someday I hope you’ll let me touch you while we’re in bed, but I’m a patient man. I can wait.”
For how long?
Instead of asking a question he didn’t want the answer to, Jazz nodded again. Mase dropped the cuff behind the bed.
“Wanna watch another movie?” Mase asked.
“What?”
Laughter rolled off Mase and seemed to bounce like refracted light all over the room, warming everything it touched.
“Just because I bought the cuffs doesn’t mean we have to break them in today, but by the look on your face, I’m guessing you want to.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I always want to be with you…in or out of bed.”
“No.” Jazz shook his head. “I mean, do you want another blow job? I want to do what you want, not just what I want. The bindings are for me. What do you want?”
Mase took one step forward but stopped when Jazz stiffened. “I want you to fuck me.”
Jazz was so shocked that his body swayed with it a little. “You…you want me to fuck you?”
“Why does that surprise you so much?”
“I guess I assumed you were a top. I mean, you obviously top with women.”
Again, Mase’s laughter bounced between them.
“Just because I’m bi doesn’t mean I only top. For some, that’s true. For many, it’s the opposite.”
“How would being bi mean you like to bottom?”
“Think about it. Like you said, I top all the time if I’m with a woman. Part of bisexuality is finding both sexes attractive. For me, another part is getting my prostate pegged.”
“But you… I mean, some of the guys you’ve dated were definitely bottoms.”
“I’ve dated men who like to bottom. I’ve dated men who don’t like penetration at all.”
“Is that why things didn’t work out with Blake?” Jazz asked, even though he told himself not to.
“No, that’s not why things didn’t work out with Blake. He ghosted me once I got hit with the charges. Not that I would have married Blake, but it still hurt when he turned his back on me.”
They needed to back away from this topic. It was quickly killing the mood, so Jazz brought them back around to the subject at hand.
“If you want me to fuck you, do you have condoms?”
Mase tilted his head to the side a bit and Jazz knew what was coming. It took him from semi-erect to fully hard and throbbing in the beat of a heart.
“I don’t want anything between us. I want you bare inside me, Jazzy.”
“But we just started… Don’t you want to see test results?”
“No. I trust you, unless you need that from me, but I can show my results right now. I haven’t been with a man for over three years. I couldn’t risk it while undercover. I haven’t been with a woman in about four months, and I was tested when I got back Stateside. I’m also on PrEP.”
Jazz licked his lips. He didn’t have much to say, but that was more because he didn’t really have a sexual history to speak of, not one he wanted to tell Mase.
“I’ll prep myself then you can cuff me to the bed.”
Mase reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. He pulled off his shirt, then reached onto the bed.
“Cuff this hand,” Mase said as he put his free hand up near the headboard.
Jazz fastened one of the leather cuffs around Mase’s hand, bending him over a little farther. Jazz watched as he tugged down his sweats. When his cock sprang free, Jazz’s gaze snapped to Mase’s cuffed hand. He took a deep breath, then helped Mase step out of his sweats.
“Can you squirt some lube on my fingers?” Mase asked.
“I’ll do it,” Jazz said.
“If I do it, it’ll be quicker. You’ve never done this before, and I’m impatient.”
Jazz wasn’t sure how Mase was so sure of that. He wasn’t wrong, but Jazz hated how confident he was that he was right. Jazz had tried to touch himself a few times, but never got farther than the tip of a finger inside him before memories swamped him. Both his erection and libido had waned at that point, so he’d stopped trying.
Jazz picked up the bottle of lube and squirted some onto the tips of Mase’s fingers. Mase reached his hand behind himself then groaned.
“Let me see what you’re doing. I’ll never learn if I don’t try.”
Mase nodded. He turned and leaned forward, bending over the bed as he lifted one foot onto the edge of the mattress.
Jazz froze for a moment. It was sexy as hell, but he was a little worried that Mase was hurting himself. He had two fingers buried inside himself to the webbing. He thrusted them in and out while spreading them and stretching his hole.
“Jazz.”
That pulled him out of his stupor, and he looked up into Mase’s smiling eyes.
“Don’t worry. It feels good once I get past the initial burn.”
Jazz nodded, even though he couldn’t comprehend that. He stopped that thought in its tracks before it could barrel into his past and ruin the moment. This was about Mase, about making Mase feel good.
Mase twisted his wrist, then thrust his fingers deeper. Jazz had a side view, so when Mase moaned and his cock jumped, he knew it was a good moan.
A drip of pre-cum fell from Mase’s slit and started to glide down the underside of his shaft. Jazz collapsed onto the bed and used his tongue to catch that drop. When he pulled back, Mase’s ass was at eye level.
Jazz picked up the lube and squeezed some over his hand. He reached out and coasted his glossy fingers around Mase’s embedded digits. Mase shuddered and pulled his hand free.
Jazz circled him a few times before trying to press inside. As soon as Mase’s heat enveloped him, Jazz groaned. He’d fisted his cock for years but couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to thrust inside such tight warmth. His dick pulsed against his zipper, beating like a drum.
He pumped his fingers in and out experimentally, watching and feeling as Mase stretched to accommodate him. Jazz looked up at Mase’s profile. His eyes were closed, and his lips parted. Then he pressed back against Jazz’s hand as if asking for more.
Jazz increased the speed of his hand until Mase swore. Jazz immediately stilled.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No. Do it again. You pegged my prostate.”
Jazz slid his fingers forward until he felt the little bundle he’d grazed. Mase’s ass clenched, and he bumped himself back until Jazz’s fingers were once again buried inside him.
“I’m ready,” Mase groaned.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Lube up,” Mase said. “It’ll burn because it’s been so long, but it’ll hurt in the best possible way. I miss the way it feels.”
Jazz couldn’t comprehend how one could enjoy pain like that, but that probably had something to do with the fact that his only sexual experiences were filled with pain and no pleasure mixed in.
“Let me get you situated.”
Mase moved onto his stomach and reached his free hand out to the other edge of the headboard.
“No. On your back. I need to see your face.”
Mase gave him a smile that wasn’t quite shy but wasn’t as cocky as his usual grin. There was surprise and satisfaction in his gaze as he laid on his back.
Jazz uncuffed Mase’s wrist, then re-cuffed it so he could lie on his back. Once the other wrist and ankles were bound to the bed, Jazz poured a puddle of lube in his palm. He spread it all over himself, then he added a little more, just to be safe.
The ankle cuffs had enough give that Mase could bend his knees and he spread them wide, giving Jazz the perfect view of his pink pucker. It was gorgeous, and yet Jazz felt a hesitation.
