The thick padding of the sleeping bag did nothing to keep out the night chill. He didn’t expect the south to get that cold, but there he was shivering. He tossed onto his back then his side to watch Jackson sleep. Last night he’d done the same thing. His man had his sleeping bag as far from his as the walls of the shack allowed. He wasn’t hurt by it…much. The kisses they’d shared were more than he’d expected. He savored the memory even as he craved more.

His face flushed as he remembered the minute Jackson had lost a bit of control. Jackson strong fingers had fisted in his hair and tugged. He’d never really thought about someone being rough with him. No one was ever anything but gentle with him. Over the years, he’d quickly grown tired of the lovers he’d had. The are you alright questions. Even in the middle of sex, he was made to feel different—less than.

He slammed his eyes closed and tucked deeper into the bag.

“Are you going to sleep anytime soon?”

“I’m sorry, I’m cold.” He hated that it sounded like he was whining, but he was.

There was a deep, sexy growl from Jackson, then the man was on his feet and headed his way. He let out an unmanly squeak as he was manhandled, flipped this way and that. He hugged himself when the sleeping bag was unzipped, and he watched as Jackson fastened their bags together. His head rested on Jackson’s bicep, then Killer was suddenly pushing under into the bag and curled up against his stomach.

“Sleep.”

“How the hell am I supposed to sleep?”

“Close your eyes and sleep.”

He sensed Jackson tense more than felt it when he tucked his head under Jackson’s bearded chin. A beard and mustache that were thicker than they were two weeks ago. He liked the burly facial hair but had a feeling Jackson would trim it as soon as he got home.

“You’re not going to sleep, are you?”

“No, I want to ask you a question.”

“I won’t guarantee I’ll answer.”

“Do you think I’m weak?”

“No, why would…you’re fine.”

“Other men I’ve dated…” He smiled at Joker’s possessive grumble. “They treated me different.”

“Then they’re assholes, got nothing to do with you.”

“I want to touch you.”

“You are.”

“No, like…” He slid his left hand under Jackson’s hoodie and t-shirt.

“Don’t.”

“Please?”

Jackson remained stiff, but he didn’t push him away, progress.

He touched the flat plane of Jackson’s stomach, felt the dips and ridges of scar tissue. His eyes burned, but he suppressed the tears. He couldn’t even imagine the pain Jackson went through. He didn’t care what Jackson thought, he wasn’t disgusted by the scars, only by what caused them. Some of the marks felt bumpy, others were silky smooth, and he was curious what they would feel like under his lips and tongue. Turn the memory of pain into pleasure, but he knew Jackson wouldn’t allow it—yet.

“Did you ever try to find her?”

“If she wanted to be found she would’ve contacted me. Why would she want to look at me? I look like him.”

“I’m sure she loved you.”

“If she ain’t dead, then she’s somewhere happy. It’s all I care about.”

He let it go, but maybe he could talk to Linus. It wasn’t like Jackson had to know. Thirty years is a long time to stay hidden, maybe it was best that she did, but he needed to try. Maybe it would take away some of Jackson’s bad memories.

He rested his hand over Jackson’s heart and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to push his luck with Jackson too much.

* * *

“Dammit, I’ll carry you out.”

He grinned at Jackson as the man mumbled curses under his breath. Jackson had made Sin and Saint land the helicopter instead of the twins staying at a safe distance and lifting him out with a safety harness.

“I’ll be fine, the twins are certified and everything.”

“Of course they’re certifiable.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What happens if they—”

He pushed a quick kiss to Jackson’s mouth, and he laughed at the drawn out aw’s behind him, but he didn’t miss the momentary gasps beforehand.

“Dem got the D, wait until—”

“Saint, if you want to live, which is questionable after dropping him out here, then I wouldn’t finish.”

“Come on, Joker,” Saint whined.

Even as twins and nearly identical, you could tell them apart, especially their voices. Sin had a huskier tone than Saint, who’s voice was quiet and sweet.

“No, this shit goes nowhere else.”

“So, you got the D instead of—”

Jackson lunged for Sin, and he barely held Jackson back. He felt if Jackson wanted to get passed him, the man would.

“Quit, you know he’s busting your balls on purpose. I’ll be fine. I’ll be home before you even pack up and hike out. You’re staying a few extra days?”

“How—”

“You need time. Can I sleep at your place until you come home?”

He knew he’d interrupted Jackson’s thinking time, and he wouldn’t begrudge Jackson a few more days to himself. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to be in Jackson’s space. It was also a huge risk on Jackson’s part. The man was obsessive about his space and things. He wondered how little Jackson had of his own over the years. The time with an abusive parent, in prison, and he wanted to be Jackson’s, yet knew it wouldn’t be as easy as saying so.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Say yes, Jackson, and give me a damn key.”

Jackson was so cute when he growled and glared, he wondered if there was some bite with that growl. Okay, so not the time for that.

“It’s never locked, no one fucks with me.”

He pointed at Joker. “Behave and be careful.”

“Behave?”

“Yeah, don’t be picking up single, hot hikers on your way home.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Shut up and go.”

“Yes, dear.”

Sin and Saint rushed forward, grabbing his bag and the wrapped parachute. The twins avoided getting anywhere near Jackson, but he couldn’t miss the mischievous little smiles that curved their glossed lips. Jackson stepped back, and he suddenly didn’t want to leave. Just because everything in him screamed Jackson was his that didn’t mean the man was ready to give in.

As Sin helped him into the chopper, the young man leaned in.

“He yours yet?”

“He was always mine, he just needs to admit it.”

Sin and Saint just grinned.

He secured himself onto the bench seat and tucked his crutches between his thighs. He peeked out the still open door and watched Jackson stare at them as they took off. Killer’s tiny frame leaned against Joker’s ankle. It was almost painful to leave. He’d spent two days in Jackson’s company—just the two of them. There were cuddles and kisses, and Jackson told him things he was sure Jackson never told anyone.

In his gut, he knew Jackson only did it trying to scare him away, but Jackson didn’t know him well enough yet. He was his mother’s son, like she got her man, he was determined to get Jackson.

“You really staying at Joker’s place?”

“Yes, I am. But I need to go home and pack a bag first.”

“Wow, you do know Joker is possessive of his things? We heard the rumors about his old man. It’s said Joker had a bare mattress on the floor and nothing else. Kept him chained—”

“Jackson will tell me all that when he wants. It’s not my business.”

It was completely his business, but he didn’t want to give away Jackson’s secrets, no matter how close the reality was to rumor. He wanted the stories from Jackson himself—given freely.

He also had plans, and he needed Jackson gone for a few days. It might get him a spanking which he was looking forward to, but he was going to do it anyway. He’d listened to every story their mutual friends shared about Jackson, got a feel for his likes and dislikes. So, they were going to work on Jackson’s boundaries and knocking those fuckers down.

He smiled at the plans forming, the thoughts of sleeping in Jackson’s bed, and knowing that Jackson was allowing him into his private space. He was going to make sure Jackson didn’t regret it. Coming there might have been temporary, but no longer. This was home, and he was going to settle in, whether Jackson like it or not.