Page 42 of My Fixation

“He’s fragile, Conor. Not physically.” She’d rested her hand on my arm, her expression softer than her warning. “He needs someone to take care of him. What he doesn’t need is for you to go full Murphy caveman on him.”

“I know,” I’d said.

Her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Do you?” Mom asks softly, though there’s nothing teasing in it. She squeezes my arm gently. “Out of all my boys, you’re probably the one most capable of understanding what I’m trying to tell you.”

I stay quiet, letting her continue.

“Don’t push him before he’s ready. Let him open up at his own pace.” A small smile touches her lips. “He’s already beginning to trust you. That’s not a small thing for someone like Jaxon.”

Her expression turns serious again.

“He’s had a hard life, Conor. If you want something real with him, you’re going to have to be patient.” She pauses. “More patient than you’ve ever been before.”

I tighten my hold on Jaxon just slightly, my hand spreading across his back while he sleeps against me. Patience has never been my strong suit. Instinct tells me to claim, protect, and eliminate threats. But for Jaxon, I’ll learn restraint. I’ll become whatever he needs me to be.

For months, I told myself my fixation on him didn’t make sense. That it was just curiosity. Attraction. Obsession. But now that I finally have him here with me, now that I’ve seen the parts of him no one else seems to notice… I understand.

He’s mine. Plain and simple. The need to take care of him sits so deep inside me it feels instinctual now. Not because he’s weak. Not because he needs saving. Just because I want to. I close my eyes and eventually let sleep pull me under.

A soft sound drags me awake sometime later. A quiet moan. Then a slow, gentle rocking against my hip. I blink sleep from my eyes and look down at Jaxon curled against me. His eyes are still closed, lips parted slightly as another soft breath leaves him.

He shifts again, grinding unconsciously against my hip. The hard outline of his cock presses against me with every slow movement.

Jealousy slams into me hard and fast. Is he dreaming about Trent? About the man he loved before everything went to hell? The idea of Jaxon wanting someone else—even in his sleep—makes something possessive and vicious rise up inside me.

I’m already shifting to wake him when I finally hear the soft sound against my chest. Quiet, half asleep, barely more than a breath.

“Conor.”

Heat floods through me instantly. My own cock reacts hard to the deep, needy moan that leaves Jaxon’s throat as his hips roll against mine again.

I tighten my hold on him reflexively, pulling him closer for one dangerous second before forcing myself to slow down. Lowering my mouth to the top of his head, I press a gentle kiss there and murmur his name.

“Jaxon, wake up for me.”

I slide a hand to his hip, stilling the slow movement before it can go any further. That seems to pull him from sleep. His eyes blink open heavily, confusion flickering across his face before realization starts to settle in. He immediately tries to pull away.

I don’t let him get far. Not trapping him. Just keeping him close. Because the truth is… I would’ve let him take whatever comfort he needed from me. But none of that matters if he isn’t fully awake. I want him aware of every touch, every choice, every second of this. I want him choosing me.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Jaxon whispers, embarrassment flooding his face as he tries to retreat.

“Hey.” I cup his jaw gently, guiding his attention back to me before he can disappear into his own head. “Don’t apologize.” My thumb brushes across his skin slowly. “I was enjoying it too.”

His breath catches softly. For a second, he hesitates like he isn’t sure he should look at me. Then those warm brown eyes finally lift to mine.

“Tell me what you want, Jaxon.” I press a kiss to his forehead, fighting the urge for more while trying to make sure he’s really here with me. Really choosing this.

His breathing turns uneven as he slowly shakes his head, his gaze dropping again like the words are too hard to say out loud.

“Hey.” I brush my thumb across his jaw, patient. “Say the words, and whatever it is…” I lower my forehead to his, “…it’s yours.”

He hesitates for a long moment. Then, so softly I almost don’t hear it—

“You.”

Need surges through me so hard it almost overrides everything else. But I force myself to stay still for one more second. Long enough for him to change his mind. Long enough to make sure this is really what he wants.