Saving You

by Jessie Evans

  Maddie quickened her step, wanting to be back with the other women before the band took the stage so she could get some more dancing in—it had been way too long since she’d cut loose on the dance floor. A minute later, she was pushing open the door to the manager’s office, ready to grab her gift and head back to the party.

  As soon as she got a look at what awaited her inside, however, her jaw dropped and all thoughts of rushing back to the party evaporated faster than spit on a hot Georgia sidewalk in July.

  Chapter Three

  There, on the left side of the office, dressed in a Roman gladiator stripper’s outfit with nothing but a leather loincloth and some strategically placed armor, was her husband-to-be, a shit-eating grin on his face and his bronzed skin oiled so that every delicious muscle popped, accentuating his already drool-worthy body.

  “What have you done?” Maddie asked, grinning so hard she could barely form the words.

  “I’m your surprise.” Jamison flexed his bicep and shot her his most wicked smolder. “Faith and I have been planning it for a week.”

  “I thought you were angry about the strippers!”

  “All part of my plan, hot stuff.” He prowled across the room to lock the door behind her before taking her by the hand and drawing her over to the chair he’d placed to the left of the desk, near a boom box. “I had to act cranky to throw you off the scent. The scent of…manliness.”

  “Oh my god,” Maddie said, snorting as he hit play on the boom box and a sultry bump-and-grind, much sexier than the club music the strippers had used, filled the room. “You are so bad! You are the worst! I was so mad at you, and it was all a dirty trick.”

  “Hush, woman, you know you love me.” He pressed her gently into the chair and braced his hands on the back, leaning down until his face lingered inches from hers and his Jamison scent filled her head, making her tingle all over. “Now, are you ready for the lap dance of your life?”

  Maddie’s breath rushed out as Jamison kneed her legs apart and her black skirt rose higher on her thighs. “I think so,” she said, voice shaking as things low in her body began to twist with longing. “But I have one question first.”

  “What’s that?” Jamison asked, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, sending her tingles sizzling into sparkler territory.

  “Do I get to touch the merchandise?” she asked, reaching out to trail her fingertips down Jamison’s oiled abs to the top of his loincloth, dragging her nails back and forth along the top.

  “I’m counting on it.” He shifted his hips, bringing her hand into intimate contact with where he was already hard. “Because this show isn’t stopping until I’ve made you come in this chair.” He kissed her neck. “And on the floor.” He raked his teeth over the sensitive skin at her shoulder. “And up against the wall, with this sexy little skirt shoved up around your hips and your panties—”

  Maddie cut him off with a kiss, a kiss so deep and hungry that within moments Jamison was moaning into her mouth, hooking his hands behind her knees, and spreading her thighs even wider. He dropped to his knees and brought his face between her legs, pressing kisses up one thigh and down the other, teasing closer and closer to where she was dying for him to touch her.

  Just as she was about to beg him to put her out of her misery, he brought his lips to her center, kissing her through her underwear before opening his mouth and dragging his teeth across the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. She cried his name, grateful for the music pulsing from the boom box, hoping it would be enough to cover the noises she was about to make.

  Because she would be making noise, she couldn’t seem to control herself when it came to Jamison’s hands, his lips, his tongue…

  God, his tongue…

  He fisted his hand in her panties and pulled them to one side, going to work in earnest, tracing every inch of her swollen flesh before circling her with a firm pressure that made her head spin. Within minutes, her brought her to the edge with a skill that left her trembling, aching, threading her fingers through his hair and clinging to him for dear life as she came with a cry, squeezing her eyes shut, struggling to hold on as her nerves threatened to overload with pleasure.

  “Shit,” she panted a moment later, swallowing with effort. “That was…”

  “Only the beginning,” Jamison said in a voice that was pure aural sex, making her eardrums threaten to come right along with her more intimate parts.

  Maddie’s eyes opened to see Jamison standing in front of her, peeling off his armor piece by piece, until nothing remained by that loincloth. And then the loincloth was gone and her husband-to-be was completely naked. Naked and so damned beautiful he took her breath away. Every oiled muscle rippled and his cock stood up to his navel, looking so plump and delicious she couldn’t wait to get her mouth on him.

  Her tongue slipped out to dampen her lips, already anticipating the musky, salty, perfect taste of him on her tongue, but before she could slip from her chair to her knees, he pulled her into his arms.

  “None of that tonight,” he said, kissing her with the words as he drew her across the room. “Tonight is for you.”

  “But I like it when you come in my mouth,” she said, moaning as Jamison’s hands found the top of her tube top and tugged it down, baring her breasts. “I like swallowing, while you make those sexy grunts you make.”

  He cursed beneath his breath as his fingers teased her nipples, building her need for him so fast it made her head swim. “You’re a naughty woman, Maddie Whitehouse.”

  “I am,” Maddie said, nipping at his bottom lip. “And I plan on being even naughtier when I’m Maddie Hansen. Think you can handle it?”

  Jamison cupped her face in his hands, pulling back to look her in the eye, his expression so full of love it made her soul spin dizzily inside her skin. “I can’t wait for it. I can’t wait for you to be my wife. I love you so fucking much.”

  “And I love you,” she said, reaching one hand down to tease up and down his engorged length. “So are you really going to take me up against the wall?”

  “I am,” Jamison said, heat in his tone as he turned her around, pressing her against the cool plaster, making Maddie’s breath rush out and her body pulse. “I’m going to fuck you until you come so hard your knees give out.”

  Maddie arched her hips, pressing against his erection, shuddering as she felt how hard he was. “As long as you catch me when I fall.”

  “Always,” he said, his warm breath stirring her hair as he lifted her skirt and peeled her panties down her legs.

  And then his hands were digging into her hips and the blunt head of him was butting against her opening, sliding inside where she was so wet and ready, so eager for this man, for all the wicked things he did to her and the amazing way he made her feel—so loved and cherished and sexy, all at the same time.

  As they came together again and again, pace increasing as the tension built between them and their soft sighs and moans filled the air, Maddie braced her hands on the wall and closed her eyes, determined to memorize every moment of her private bachelorette party, the best bachelorette party ever.

  At least as far as she was concerned.

  There was no place in the world she’d rather be than with Jamison, pushing the limits with him by her side, proving they had both found their One, a partner who was all in for the adventures that awaited.

  Maddie tried to hold on, to draw out her anticipation and these stolen moments with her husband-to-be, but it wasn’t long before the pressure building inside of her became too much. She came with a cry, arching her back, lights dancing behind her closed eyes, waves of bliss rolling through her from head to toe and all the places in between, her entire body celebrating coming together with her wickedly perfect love.

  ***

  Maddie’s dark curls cascaded down her back, almost close enough to reach where they were joined, making Jamison’s balls ache with the need to lose himself inside her, to come with his cock buried to the hilt in the wo
man who drove him crazy. Seconds later, he felt her slick channel begin to pulse around him, heard those sexy moans she made when she came, and he knew he was a goner.

  She was too sexy, too abandoned, too everything that made him hot, to have a chance of holding out any longer.

  He dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her tight against him as he thrust forward one last time, coming with a muffled groan. His cock jerked and pulsed, his orgasm so intense he felt his knees go wobbly in the center and worried he might be the one who needed help staying upright, not Maddie.

  But if he fell, he knew Maddie would pick him up off the floor. Maddie was always there for him, in a way he’d never experienced before, even with his family. His dad had been a single parent who worked too hard, and his big brother, Jake, was his best friend, but he wasn’t always on Jamison’s wavelength. Jake and Jamison were men who saw the world from different perspectives, but who had found a way to love each other and be family. But Maddie…

  Maddie was Jamison’s tribe. She was his match in every way, the only person who could read his emotions in a kiss, read his mind with a look, and always knew how to make him smile.

  Keeping tonight a secret from her had been a challenge, but as Maddie turned in his arms, kissing him breathless before twining her arms around his neck and hugging him tight, Jamison knew it had been worth it.

  “This was the best bachelorette present ever,” she said, kissing his cheek, her breath feathering across his skin. “Thank you so much, you sexy gladiator beast.”

  “My pleasure.” He claimed her mouth, parting her lips with his tongue and kissing her until she pulled away with a sigh.

  “We should get back to the party.” She leaned back against the wall, tugging her shirt up to cover her breasts, making Jamison scowl.

  “Don’t get all frowny,” she said with a laugh. “You can have more when we get home.”

  “I want more now.” Jamison ran his hand up her soft thigh to cup her bare ass in his hand. “I haven’t made you come on the floor yet, and I’m a man who likes to keep his promises.”

  “And I’m a woman who doesn’t want everyone and their mother to know she was getting it on in the back room,” she said, swatting his hand away and stooping to pull up her underwear. “You know some of the guys from the station are supposed to be joining us around ten, right? And you know they won’t hesitate to tease the crap out of us if we aren’t out there when they arrive.”

  Jamison exhaled, knowing he’d been defeated. “I know. And you’re right. But you have to promise this is to be continued.”

  “As long as you promise me we get to keep that loincloth for our very own,” she said, winking as she crossed to grab her purse off the ground. “I’m going to go to the bathroom and freshen up.” She paused, frowning. “You do have normal clothes with you, right?”

  Jamison grinned as he stepped into his loincloth. “Why? You don’t want your girlfriends to see me dressed to impress?”

  Maddie shook her head, a heated look in her eyes as her gaze swept up and down his body. “No, I don’t. Gladiator Jamison is all mine.”

  “Yes he is,” Jamison confirmed, not surprised to find his cock stirring again. Maddie did that to him—made him capable of feats of athletic erection-ism only previously imagined before his wife-to-be laid claim to his body. “And yes, I brought clothes. I’ll change and see you in a few.”

  “Don’t be long,” Maddie said, crossing to press a kiss to his lips, sending his heart flipping pleasantly in his chest.

  “I won’t.” He smiled as she backed away, the look on her face making it clear how happy he’d made her.

  “I’m going to keep this up, you know,” he said, stopping her as she reached for the door.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Making you love me more than you did before.”

  She sighed, and a sweet smile curved her lips. “I look forward to it. Hurry out, Sexy, I can’t wait to dance with you.”

  “Be right there.” He watched her slip into the hall, feeling like a piece of himself left the room with her.

  But that was okay, because he was going to get that piece back in a few minutes when he pulled Maddie into his arms to dance. As long as she was out there, somewhere, loving him, Jamison knew his heart would always be in good hands.

  He was a damned lucky man, and so happy nothing could bring him down, not even record-breaking rains and the knowledge that he’d be spending half of tomorrow fetching boats from people around Summerville who had volunteered their crafts for use by search and rescue teams.

  It looked like flooding was imminent, but the SFD and SPD would handle the emergency the same way they handled all emergencies—with efficiency, professionalism, and excellence.

  And in the meantime, he would enjoy his last night off.

  Ten minutes later he was dressed and spinning Maddie under his arm into the current of dancers tracking their way around the floor, while Melody March crooned a love song, never dreaming that, this time tomorrow, half of Main Street—including the boards he was dancing on—would be under five feet of water for the first time in Summerville history.

  Chapter Four

  Lucy spotted Brandon the second he walked in the door. He was surrounded by a group of other firemen—who made a significant difference in the testosterone level in the bar when they barreled inside—but even if he hadn’t been, Lucy would have been alerted to his presence immediately.

  Brandon had an aura about him that drew her focus like a magnet.

  She didn’t know how she’d managed to overlook his intense personal energy before, but in the thirty-six hours since he walked out of Icing, Lucy had decided she might be interested in that pizza date, after all.

  Last night, Jamison had invited her over for family dinner at the firehouse, the way he usually did when he was on duty, saying there was no reason for Lucy to eat supper alone in her apartment when they had more than enough food to share. But instead of exchanging jokes with Jamison or chatting Ben up about the last concert he’d attended in Atlanta, Lucy spent most of the meal sneaking glances at Brandon, wondering why she hadn’t noticed how intelligent his eyes were before—or how pretty.

  Truth be told, he was gorgeous all the way around. His shorn blond hair and craggy profile lent him a Nordic Viking vibe that was unlike any guy she’d dated, but undeniably attractive. He was considerate, too, and had welcomed her to dinner last night with a smile and a, “Hi, Lucy, good to see you,” making sure she knew there weren’t any hard feelings over her turning him down.

  And why did you turn him down? It’s not like men are beating down your door.

  Lucy sank lower in the booth, hiding behind her fizzy pink drink. She knew why she’d turned Brandon down. Since Isaiah, she’d turned everyone down.

  Isaiah had been her first love—a poet and an artist and the most sensitive, wonderful, beautiful boy she’d ever met, with chocolaty brown eyes that melted her heart and hugs that made her never want to leave his arms. From the day they met at a summer blues festival freshman year of college, to the day he left a note on her pillow telling her he had to go, they’d been inseparable.

  Until the morning he disappeared.

  He’d found out he had cancer a few weeks before, the same cancer that had killed his father within six months of diagnosis. Isaiah knew first-hand what it was like to watch someone he loved wither and fade and that’s why he’d broken up with Lucy via love letter. He’d written that he wanted her to remember him as he was in life, promised he would always love her, and vanished into the ether.

  Lucy had searched and searched for some sign as to where he’d gone—she was too in love to stand back and let her best friend die alone—but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find a hint of a trail. She asked Grammy Tutu to try her hand at tracking him, but grammy said even psychics couldn’t find someone who genuinely didn’t want to be found.

  Lucy didn’t learn Isaiah had passed until three months afte
r his funeral, when his mother finally got around to writing Lucy an email with directions to the gravesite—and a confession that she’d never thought Pottsville trash like Lucy was good enough for her son to begin with.

  Lucy had gone to visit Isaiah’s grave and cried on the tiny sprigs of grass already pushing up through the dirt, but it was too late for the tears to have any cathartic effect. The boy she’d loved was gone and she’d never even gotten to say goodbye. It had left a hole in her heart, a wound that stayed raw, open, and bleeding quietly inside of her for months after.

  Losing Isaiah had been as responsible for Lucy needing to shut down her intuitive abilities as the body she’d found in the woods. After learning he was gone, she hadn’t been able to handle other people’s problems. Her own pain already felt unmanageable.

  But it had been almost a year since that visit to Isaiah’s grave and months since she’d moved back home. It was time to stop existing and start living, to stop watching the people she cared about take the stage, while she sat in the audience, hiding in the anonymous darkness. Isaiah wouldn’t have wanted her to cocoon herself in her misery. He would have wanted her to grieve, heal, and move on.

  Fear, pain, old wounds, and troubled feelings aside, Lucy knew she shouldn’t let a chance to meet someone interesting slip through her fingers. For the first time in ages, she felt something when she looked at a man, a curiosity that made her toes tingle as she watched Brandon lift his arms into the air and begin to move to the music.

  She finally felt ready to dance, too, and she didn’t want to dance alone.

  Taking a deep breath, Lucy tightened her pigtails, slugged down the last of her Lady Slipper—hoping the fizzy pink drink would help her courage hold until she reached Brandon and the rest of her group—and slid out of the booth. She crossed the dance floor on trembling legs, weaving between the reeling couples dancing around the outer edges before joining the men and women dancing in the center.