Page 6 of Jace's Secret
“Do it, then,” Garrett growls, soft and almost angry.
Jace takes his hand, leads him along the street, and doesn’t stop until he’s inside his building and waiting for the elevator. He doesn’t look back at all, scared Garrett will change his mind. One look back and everything will vanish.
Garrett told Jace to take over, to make it happen, and so he is. And once they’re behind closed doors, then Garrett will take charge, won’t he? Jace’s legs are shaking. He’s scared to say anything, scared to risk it. If he doesn’t get Garrett inside him, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He’s never wanted someone like this. A want so desperate and fundamental that it feels like need. He might die if he isn’t filled up with the man’s cock, if his come doesn’t paint Jace up on the inside.
“You’ve done this before,” Garrett says.
Now Jace jolts, startled. He risks a glance, quick and from under his lashes. “Which part?”
“The… taking a man inside you.”
“I have. It feels good. I love it,” he says, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s honest, if nothing else.
“Will you say if I’m hurting you?” Garrett asks.
“If that’s what you want.” Jace will do anything he wants.
The doors open. Does that mean Garrett’s never been with a man? Is there some possibility that he gets to be Garrett’s first? Nah.
4
Jace’s hand wobbles as he tries to get the key in the door. It isn’t happening. It’s a simple task, but Jace is excited and horny, absolutely stupid with wanting Garrett so damned badly that he can’t manage.
“Fuck,” Jace gasps as he struggles. It’s ridiculous.
Garrett’s hand covers his. Larger than his, tanned. Streaks of black soot, bloody scratches all along the back. Sweat, gunpowder, and smoke burn the back of Jace’s nostrils, and the reality of what Jace is doing, who he’s taking into his apartment, sinks in.
This isn’t a normal man. This is a highly decorated police detective. The one who found Jace when he was taken by a pedophile at the age of eight. His parents were murdered. And he would have died too, except that Garrett found Jace in a matter of hours. Because Garrett was brilliant.
Because he cared.
The moment is suddenly too large and important, Jace too far beneath Garrett if he’s being honest. And then there’s the fact that he isn’t being honest. Garrett doesn’t know he isn’t Jack but Jace Matthews, one of many he’s saved over the course of his long career.
Does Jace really think he’s the one who can be Garrett’s home? Jace has lost his fucking mind!
“Easy,” Garrett says, standing very, very close. Garrett radiates warmth and strength, and it registers in some primal part of Jace’s brain as a threat. Predator. And he is prey. Prey runs. Prey surrenders.
Daddy.He swallows the word down. “I want you so much I can’t even open the fucking door,” Jace breathes, trying to laugh.
“How sweet are you?” Garrett murmurs, lips brushing Jace’s ear.
Garrett puts the key in the lock for him and the door opens. Jace goes inside and flicks on the light. His place is a two-bedroom, the other room used as an art studio.
“You live alone?”
“Yeah.”
Jace hears the door close as he shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it on the couch. He’s suddenly hot all over, must be blushing everywhere. “Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink?”
“Water,” Garrett says, after a long moment, and Jace goes to the kitchen, half afraid Garrett will leave. He gets water with ice and goes back to the living room. Garrett is a giant in his small apartment, tall and wide. Imposing. Jace is so excited and terrified he can hardly breathe.
There is no goddamned way the plug he’s wearing will be big enough to make this easy. Thinking Garrett will actually fuck him seems like a pretty big assumption on Jace’s part. He’s more likely to win the lottery than get this beast of a man to breed him.
Jace’s newest painting is leaning against the wall.
“This is yours?” Garrett asks, staring.
“Yeah.”
