Sunshine's Kiss (4 page)

Jesse bit his lips to keep his groan locked behind his teeth when he felt the knot finally recede. He was saddened by the fact that the knot was a onetime deal. Now that he had claimed Sam, it would never happen again. But that also meant that Sam was now fully claimed.

He carefully extracted his arm from under Sam’s head and rolled to the side of the bed. Jesse made a quick trip to the bathroom to grab a clean cloth and then came back into the bedroom to clean his mate up.

As of now, Sam’s care would be entirely in his hands. Even Sam’s mother understood that now that Sam was claimed, he belonged to Jesse. Everyone would understand it.

Jesse finished cleaning his mate up then tucked the blankets around him. He leaned over to plant a small kiss on Sam’s temple then quickly dressed and headed out. Even though he had claimed his mate, he still had work to do. He just hoped he could get it done and get back before Sam woke up. The man had a lot of explaining to do.

Sam groaned as he stretched, previously unused muscles aching. He blinked several times as he opened his eyes and tried to get the sleep out of them then rolled over onto his back. The morning light shining through the windows bounced off the white ceiling.

That wasn’t his ceiling.

Sam sat up and glanced around. This wasn’t his bedroom either. This bedroom was much larger and much nicer than his little bedroom. Hell, this one even had a fireplace. And an actual bed. Sam had a futon.

For a moment, unease filled him as he wondered if he had finally given in to Desmond’s demands and slept with him. Sam had been putting the man off almost since the moment he met him. Then Sam saw the green cast on his arm and remembered why he had never slept with Desmond. It just hadn’t felt right, and now he knew he was right about those feelings.

Thank the gods he had never given in.

So, if he didn’t sleep with Desmond, who—Sam inhaled sharply as memories assailed him. Granted, they were hotter-than-fuck memories, but still. He suddenly knew exactly where he was, and that scared him even more than Desmond did.

He was in Jesse’s bed.

Sam scooted to the edge of the bed and searched the floor until he spotted his pants and shirt on the floor at the end of the bed. He quickly got up and grabbed them, then ran for the bathroom. He locked the bathroom door and leaned back against it, his eyes sliding closed as the weight of his actions sank into him.

Jesse had barely said two words to him. He had just carried him upstairs and fucked him unconscious. Those weren’t the actions of a man in love. They were the actions of someone that wanted control, just like Desmond did.

Sam had to get the hell out of here as fast as he could, before Jesse came back. He needed to run and run fast. Jesse was just as controlling as Desmond, and this just proved it. Sam was afraid if he stuck around, Jesse would become as possessive as Desmond had.

Sam realized he still had the same romanticized image of Jesse that he’d had for years. He probably always would. Jesse had been his first crush, his first kiss, and now his first— No! Sam opened his eyes and started pulling his clothes on as quickly as he could. He wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t.

Maybe later, when he was away and safe, he would pull the experience out and go over it in his mind, but right now, he just needed to get away before Jesse stopped him. Hell, after the reception he had received from everyone he ran into, he wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to stop him as well.

Once he was dressed, Sam unlocked the bathroom door and peeked out. When he saw that the coast was clear, he hurried over to his shoes and pulled them on. Once he was dressed from head to toe, literally, Sam cast one last wishful glance at the bed and then raced for the door. Hopefully he could make it to the front door before anyone stopped him.

Sam noticed that no one seemed to be around as he snuck down the hallway to the stairs and then to the first floor. It surprised Sam that he didn’t hear a single soul moving about inside the house. At the very least he should have heard his mother.

Maybe she was still at the little house in back. Sam grimaced at that thought. He needed to get his bags out of his room, and he really didn’t want to have to explain to his mother why he was running like a scared rabbit, especially not when talking to Jesse had been her idea.

Sam decided to use the back door instead of the front. It was closer to his mother’s house. He peeked out the window first and made sure no one was around then pushed it open and hurried toward the small white house he had grown up in.

He made it inside the house without being spotted and hurried down the hallway to his old bedroom. He went to grab his bags, but they weren’t where he had left them. They weren’t in the bathroom, the closet, the hallway, or anywhere in the rest of the house.

His bags were gone.

Even as that thought flittered through his brain, Sam turned to look out the window to the main house. He just knew, somehow, that his bags had been taken to the main house. And he suspected he knew who had ordered it, too.

Damn, that meant he’d have to leave everything behind. Well, at least he knew once he was gone, Jesse would most likely give his possessions back to his mother. He hoped so at least. Now, he just had to figure out how to get the hell out of Wild Card with just the clothes on his back and the money in his wallet. And that wasn’t much. Most of his money had been in one of his bags.

Knowing there was nothing he could do about it now, Sam headed for his car. He saw Gabe step out of the back door of the main house just as he slid into the driver’s seat. Gabe started quickly walking toward him, saying something, but Sam couldn’t hear it. He didn’t want to hear it. He just wanted to get out of there.

Sam turned the car on, thankful that the hunk of junk started on the first try, and put it into gear. Ignoring Gabe’s waving arms, Sam spun the car around and headed for the main road leading off the ranch as quickly as he could.

The road was long and straight, leading right from the front of the house to the main road. Which was why when Sam reached the end of the driveway he could see a large blue truck sitting at an angle across the end of the driveway, blocking his escape.

Jesse stood right in front of the truck in the middle of the road, his arms crossed over his chest. The brim of his brown cowboy hat shadowed his face, but Sam could still feel the man’s cold, hard glare.

Sam knew he was in so much fucking trouble. He slowed the car and brought it to a stop several feet away from Jesse. He had serious doubts that he could back his car up and make it to the back road leading off the property before Jesse stopped him, which meant he was stuck.

When Jesse pointed to the house, Sam’s shoulders slumped. Yep, he was stuck. By the time he got his car turned around in the wide driveway, Jesse was sitting in his truck, right behind him. Sam kept looking in his rearview mirror as he drove back toward the house. Jesse’s gaze never wavered from him. It was like the man knew Sam was looking in his mirror.

Sam pulled up in front of the main house. There didn’t seem to be any point in driving around back to his mother’s house. He knew Jesse would just follow him, and he preferred to have this confrontation in private.

Sam turned off the engine then turned to climb out of his car. He yelped and jumped when he saw someone standing right next to his window. He pressed his hand against his chest, trying to hold his rapidly beating heart inside his body.

Damn.

Jesse.

Sam groaned and opened his car door. Before he could even stand up, Jesse was holding out his hand. Sam frowned as he stared down at Jesse’s hand in confusion. “What?”

“Keys.”

“No.” Sam slid the hand holding his keys behind his back.

“Now, Samuel.”

Uh-oh…Samuel, not Sam. Jesse really was pissed. He only ever called him Samuel when he was upset about something. Sam knew if he handed over his keys, he might never get them back again. The thought of being a prisoner on the ranch scared the crap out of him.

Sam pulled his courage up by his bootstraps and raised his eyes to look up into Jesse’s smoky gray ones. “No.”

Sam cried out in fear as he was yanked out of the car and pressed up against the side of his vehicle. His good hand was pulled behind his back and the keys peeled out of his clenched fingers. The second the pressure was off his back, Sam spun around and shot a deep glare at Jesse.

“Fuck you, Jesse.”

Sam spun around and started storming down the driveway. He’d walk to town if he had to. His uninjured hand clenched at his side. He hated feeling fear, but that seemed to be all he felt nowadays. People seemed to think because he wasn’t an overgrown, bulked-up, muscle-bound beast that they could do whatever they wanted with him.

He was damn tired of it.

He had taken it from Andrew McCaffrey five years ago. He had endured it from Desmond for six months. He wasn’t going to take it from Jesse. Sam felt tears of frustration start to gather in the corners of his eyes. He was so fucking tired of people manhandling him.

Hell, he was just tired period.

His head was beginning to ache, and that just made his stomach clench and roll. It felt like he had been running for days, and in truth, he had. Since the moment he stepped out of the hospital, Sam had been looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten more than a few hours of sleep.

He had thought coming home, that at least he would be safe here, that he could sleep and recoup. It killed something inside of Sam to know that this place was no longer a safe haven for him. Even though he had left five years ago because he had to, he always thought he might be able to come back one day. It was a huge blow to learn that wasn’t true.

“Where are you going, Samuel?”

“Anywhere you aren’t,” Sam shouted over his shoulder.

“It’s a long walk back to town.”

“My wrist is broken, not my legs. I’ll make it just fine.”

Sam shuddered when he heard a low growl from behind him. He braced himself, ready to start running if Jesse tried to jump him.

“Just who broke your wrist anyway?”

“Someone who thought they had the right to manhandle me.” Sam spun around to point his finger at Jesse. “Kind of like you.”

“I have never manhandled you in my life!” Jesse snapped.

“Oh really?” Sam pointed back toward his car. “Then that wasn’t you dragging me out of my car, tossing me up against the side of it, and taking my keys? That wasn’t you that forced me to come back here when I tried to leave?” Sam snorted. “Oh no, Jesse. You’d never manhandle me.”

Jesse didn’t even look guilty. “You don’t understand, Sam.”

“I don’t want to understand, Jesse.” What part of that wasn’t Jesse getting? “I came back here because I needed a safe place to be, a safe place to hide from someone that was trying to hurt me, but you’ve taken that from me.”

Sam felt a tear slide down his face when Jesse’s jaw dropped. The man was never going to understand what it meant to be scared. Sam doubted Jesse even knew what that emotion was. No one manhandled Jesse.

“You think you can use your size and your strength to get what you want, just like Desmond.” Sam’s voice dropped down to a whisper as his sorrow overcame him. “Just like your father.”

Sam felt the blood drain from his face when Jesse’s features darkened and became more rigid. The man snarled and leapt toward him, and Sam saw death coming for him. He tried to run, but Jesse was on him before he could even take a single step, grabbing him and shaking him until his teeth rattled.

“I am nothing like my father,” Jesse roared.

Sam lowered his eyes and tilted his head away from Jesse’s enraged face. His voice came out in a small whimper of fear. “Okay, Jesse.”

* * * *

Jesse stared down at Sam, not quite understanding what had just happened. His mind was still foggy with fear and anger, and it was hard to process his thoughts. The mere idea that Sam wanted to leave him after what they shared together shook Jesse’s very foundation.

That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be between mates. This wasn’t the way either. Sam was shaking. Jesse could feel wave after wave of fear rolling off his mate, and he strongly suspected that he was the main cause.

Sam was afraid of him.

He wouldn’t even look Jesse in the eyes. Instead, he kept his head tilted down. Jesse sucked in his breath when he saw the tears trailing down Sam’s cheeks. He had done that. He had scared Sam so much that the beautiful little man was crying.

Jesse wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders and pulled the man against his chest, resting his head against Sam’s. He could still feel Sam’s body trembling, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he whispered against the side of Sam’s head. He pressed Sam’s keys into his hand then lifted the man’s face up to his. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you think this wasn’t a safe place. This ranch will always be a safe place for you. But I really need to talk with you. After that, if you still feel that you have to leave, I won’t stop you.”

Sam’s eyes stayed down for a moment then flickered up to meet Jesse’s, hesitation in every golden glint. “Promise?”