by J. Daniels
It lasted a second, barely, and it was gentle and sweet, not dirty like Jamie always kissed me. These weren’t lips that craved and needed. These were lips that cherished. That said, “Missed you,” and “Fuck, so much, babe,” and “Baby…Legs, look at me,” and wait…
Wait. No…My God. How good was this dream?
I pulled away from warm breath tickling my mouth and my cheek, slid my eyes fully open, and blinked at the face staring back at me.
I blinked again. And again.
Then I shot ramrod straight, peeling my body off rock-solid muscle, and slid my hands over cheeks that scratched and bit my palms. I pushed my fingers through too-long hair that was gritty from sand and salt water curled and oh, my God oh, my God oh, my God.
I sucked in a breath. My boy of summer smiled and made my heart dance inside my chest.
He was here.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered into the dark room, quiet except for the beeping of the monitors and the sleepy sounds coming from my parents. “Oh, my God,” I repeated, staring into surprising eyes, still whispering but sounding more urgent now. “What time is it? How did you get here? How did you…” I glanced over Jamie’s shoulder and squinted through the window blinds, focusing in on the streetlights illuminating the parking lot. Then sliding my eyes back to his face and my hands to the tops of his shoulders, I leaned closer and asked, “Have I been asleep for days? How are you even here right now?”
I felt delirious and drugged from my dream.
Was it Sunday already?
Jamie laughed inside his chest. His smile lifted his cheeks.
“Travis,” he stated, wrapping his arm tighter around my back and giving me a squeeze. “He called when he got word on your dad being here. I took the first flight out I could get. Fuckin’ airline.” Jamie’s mouth hardened in irritation. His fingers tensed on my hip. “Would’ve been here sooner if we hadn’t gotten delayed on the tarmac waitin’ on a gate to free up. I tried callin’ you.”
“I left my phone at work,” I explained, frowning.
“Know that,” he replied. “Got your message when we landed. I think your mom’s phone is either off or dead. My call went straight to voice mail.”
It was dead. I knew the second it happened, too, considering how glued to it I had been.
“She doesn’t have her charger with her.” I pouted. “I gave her a nice long lecture about the importance of always keeping an extra in the car in case of emergencies like this.”
Jamie smirked. His arm around my back and his hand on my hip tugged me closer. “You fuckin’ missed me, girl,” he murmured in that teasing way he always did, running his nose along my cheek.
I closed my eyes, smiling and softly admitting, “Yeah,” as my hands slid around his warm neck. “Like crazy. I’ve decided I can’t handle you going to competitions without me. I need to be there, too. Oh”—my eyes flashed open and I leaned back—“do you have your trophy with you?” I asked him, then tilting on his lap, I looked on the floor beside the chair, spotting the black duffle bag he had packed for his trip. “I want to see it,” I added.
Jamie said nothing. Righting myself, I watched his smirk melt into something softer.
“What?” I asked, not understanding why he was looking at me the way he was doing.
“Got the call from Travis right before it was time for my run.” His shoulders lifted. “Couldn’t do it. Knew I needed to be here, so I left. I dropped out.”
“You left?” My eyes widened as I shifted closer. “You didn’t compete?”
Jamie shook his head.
“But…” I stared into his eyes, trying to comprehend. “You said you were always wanting to win that one. That your sponsors were there. They didn’t mind you leaving?”
“Don’t know since I didn’t ask what they fuckin’ thought about it. I just left,” he replied, not sounding remorseful about that decision one bit. “And yeah, I wanted to win that one. It would’ve been a nice title to claim, but I wanted to be here more than that. I didn’t know how serious this was gonna be with your dad. I didn’t want you havin’ to go through this alone even if it wasn’t serious, which, spoke to Travis and got the update. Glad to hear your dad’s gonna be straight, babe. That’s good. But honest? I got that update before I even boarded the fuckin’ plane to come here and I still boarded it. I wanted you more than that win. Wouldn’t be surprised if I felt that shit at every meet either, so don’t be shocked if this is a recurring thing. I like that you wanna come with me, Legs, but I know that ain’t gonna always be doable. You got a life here. A job you can’t be skipping out on. I leave and come back a day later or, fuck, hours later without a trophy, you know why.” He smiled, adding, “Ain’t ’cause some asshole beat me out. That ain’t ever gonna be the case.”
I blinked. My chest starting rising and falling rapidly.
My God. Did he just say all that?
“Babe,” Jamie prompted when I remained silent. His hand left my hip and cupped my face.
“I skipped so many steps,” I whispered, scooting closer as my fingers spread along the back of his neck.
Jamie’s eyes searched mine for meaning. For understanding. “Steps?” he asked.
I nodded. “To get here with you. How I feel…”
His face relaxed. Jamie knew what I was saying. He was following me. “Yeah,” he murmured, sliding his thumb along my cheek and smiling softly. “Think we skipped ’em all, babe.”
Oh, God. We? He was going to kill me.
“I am so happy I hit you with my car,” I confessed, watching his brows lift and disappear behind his hair. “But not really, you know? Just…” I inhaled a shaky breath. “It started everything. It got us going. That bet.”
Jamie’s mouth lifted in the corner then. He understood.
Still, I kept going. I had so much more to say.
“I have no idea how long it would’ve taken me to quit fighting you and what I was feeling if it wouldn’t have happened and I don’t like thinking about it,” I continued sharing, getting the rest of this out quickly. “I don’t like thinking about the past few weeks without you, Jamie. I don’t. I hate it. My only regret besides hitting you with my car and almost hurting you is that I didn’t do it sooner.”
His eyes went round.
“I had so many opportunities to run you over. I should’ve jumped on those,” I explained. “Moving day at Brian and Syd’s when you refused to get on your bike and allow me to back out of the driveway, I could’ve done it then. I should’ve. God, I could’ve been skipping steps months ago. Can you imagine where we’d be right now?”
Jamie’s eyes were shining so bright they were lighting up that hospital room.
“You sayin’ you wanna skip more steps with me?” he asked, beautiful grin stretching across his mouth as his hand slid to the back of my neck and curled there.
“I’m saying I just wanna keep going how we’re going, no matter how crazy it feels or too fast or whatever, I love what we’re doing,” I replied. “I love every part of it, Jamie, and I don’t wanna slow down. I feel like I have months to catch us up on and I’m gonna do that. It’s my fault we aren’t further along. Not yours. I’ll get us there.”
“Babe,” he murmured, sounding ready to argue.
“I’ll get us there. I promise,” I urged, holding firm to my plan, moving closer until our foreheads kissed and whispering, “I’ll give you all of my truths, I will. Just don’t hurt me, okay?”
I felt a rush of air leave Jamie’s body. His fingers on my neck squeezed, and I could read in his eyes what he was wanting to say, that I was crazy for thinking he could hurt me. That he ever would. But he didn’t say those words.
He slanted his head, leaned in, and pressed his lips against mine, murmuring three words inside our kiss.
“Get us there.”
And I knew he was talking about me telling him all of my truths while moving us further along to our catching-up point.
But I also knew that was Jamie’s
way of promising me he’d be participating in that. Fully participating.
Dream Jamie was amazing but he had nothing on the real thing. Absolutely nothing.
I slid my hand to his cheek and kissed him back, soft and slow, then I shifted in his lap so I was turned sideways again, both of my legs thrown over his and my head ducking underneath his chin. “Can you sleep?” I asked. “What time is it?”
He inhaled deeply, curling his arms around me tighter. “Late,” he said. “I didn’t get here ’til after eleven.”
“Are you tired?”
I felt the shake of his head against mine. “Gonna stay up awhile. I’m sure your parents are gonna wanna know who the fuck I am. Guy they don’t know holding their daughter…”
“Oh, they know who you are,” I told him. “I had to explain that group text I sent out the other night. Both of them got it.”
Jamie’s chest rumbled with a laugh.
“Probably seemed strange,” he said.
“Nah.” I smiled, hiding my face so he couldn’t see. “I mean, my dad didn’t have much opinion about it, except that he wasn’t too happy getting a text like that. That was understandable, though. He doesn’t think anybody’s good enough for me, but my mom got it. She understood the importance of claiming a man in the name of love. Women just get that stuff.”
Jamie’s arms around me tensed. I smiled bigger, flattening my hand to his chest.
“Night,” I whispered.
His head shook against the top of mine. “Always dropping shit like that and then passing out on me,” he murmured, and I could hear he was smiling, too. “What the fuck, Legs?”
“Shh.” I snuggled closer.
He grunted deep in his throat.
After that, I fell asleep and slept soundly in Jamie’s arms, only waking hours later when my father woke up and made that fact known to the entire room.
“I suggest you take your hands off my daughter before you lose ’em both,” he ordered, voice threatening and louder than I’d ever heard. “I might look bedridden, son, but I assure you, I am not.”
Introductions were a little tense after that, needless to say. But once I informed my father of Jamie’s apparent love for firearms, something I found out when I was snooping around his house after our lovemaking by the fire—he had a gun cabinet in his office among the trophies—it was as if Dad hadn’t caught Jamie passed out with his hand clutching my ass.
They got to talking about hunting and gun ranges and forgot my mother and I even existed, which was fine since we were busy whispering about the McCade family genes and how incredible their bone structure was.
Chapter Twenty
JAMIE
Five days later
“Legs!” I hollered, kicking the front door closed and tossing my keys on the entryway table.
I fished the piece of paper out of my back pocket and was already crossing the living room and searching for Tori when she called out from the kitchen.
“In here! I’m…” She paused, eyes lifting from the bowl she was stirring when I entered the room. “Oh, hey.” She smiled, red lips stretching wide. “I’m just getting these potatoes coated and ready to roast in the oven. Then I’ll cut out the biscuits. Give me fifteen. We’ll be ready to eat.”
She went back to stirring.
Tori was cooking us dinner, something she hadn’t done yet but felt was long overdue, this feeling coming over her last night while we were shacked up on the couch, watching TV and scarfing down the half-everything, half-just-pepperoni pizza I’d brought over.
Nearly finished with her second slice of pepperoni, she set her plate down on the coffee table and turned to look at me, stating, “I’m making you a home-cooked meal tomorrow. So don’t be coming over with food. I got it covered.”
Reading the look on her face as this being something important to her, that it was gonna mean something when she gave it and wanting her to tell me that, I’d asked why.
I was a fucking moron thinking she’d tell me the real reason.
Tori shrugged, picked up her pizza, took a bite, and answered around her mouthful, “Eating in is cheaper and better for you. I’m getting a belly.”
She wasn’t getting a belly. The little bulge she showed me after I called her out on it wasn’t no fucking belly either, and truth be told, even if it was, I’d still be hard up. Tori could have a belly and two fantastic asses and I’d be wanting her nonstop like I was doing now. I told her that, too.
That led to us eating cold pizza and missing the rest of the Yankees game. Except I didn’t miss nothing. Neither did she.
Now here she was, cooking something that smelled delicious. Any other night, I’d want to let her continue but not right now.
“That shit can wait,” I told her, stepping up to the island and standing across from where she was working.
Tori stopped stirring, lifted her head, and narrowed her eyes on me. I started smiling. She had a dusting of flour on her cheek, a swipe on her forehead, and even more covering the apron she was wearing. Plus, she looked pissed, and Legs looking pissed dressed as Betty Crocker while looking like a fucking beauty queen was hard not to smile at.
“I have never in my life made biscuits that were shit, Jamie,” Tori shared, heavy on the attitude. “I follow my late nana’s recipe each and every time. The day I start making shit biscuits is the day I move out of the South.”
“Babe,” I started, but she kept right on going and cut me off.
“And no, shit or not, they can’t wait. None of what I’m doing can wait.” She gestured at the stove behind me with her hand not curled around the spoon. “I got everything timed perfectly with the pork chops, except the green beans, which have been cooking all day. They’re ready whenever. But the rest? I mean, seriously. Do you want to eat cold meat and warm sides, because I sure don’t.”
Not waiting for an answer, Tori went back to stirring again, doing it more vigorously now and causing her overgrown bangs to fall into her eyes. The rest of her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, looked messy, and had flour sprinkled throughout it.
I slapped the paper I was holding down on the counter, rephrasing and repeating, “Legs, trust me, it can fuckin’ wait.”
Tori’s hand stopped moving again. She shook her head to clear her hair from her eyes, then leaned over to look at the paper I was keeping flat. By the time her eyes reached mine, they’d gone soft. “Is that…” Her voice, free of attitude now, trailed off when I jerked my chin.
She pulled her lips between her teeth, released the spoon, and slid the bowl aside. Then she wiped her hands off on her apron and padded quickly to the fridge, where she pulled down a paper secured by magnets. Tori came around the counter to stand beside me and laid her paper next to mine.
Her throat worked with a swallow before she looked up, hands tucking the fallen pieces of hair behind her ears and then knotting together at her stomach. She looked uneasy all over again.
After everything that had gone down Monday, were we now back to this?
We were pulled off the road at a rest stop, getting five miles from the hospital before Tori was jerking me off through my shorts and forcing me to take us off the highway before I wrecked her car.
Didn’t know what it was that had her wound up and needy like this. Straight up, it could’ve been several things.
I’d been gone one night, got Tori off over the phone, which didn’t relieve her, just worked her up even further and had her missing the real thing twice as hard.
We were finally alone after the two days with her parents in that hospital room, not having privacy to do more than kiss and not really getting time for that either.
Or it could’ve been the news of her dad’s condition after the test he had done that morning. Moods were high after that.
He had heart disease. Not typical good news, but it was good compared to what they’d been fearing. The fact that it was manageable had Tori and her mom breathing easy. That paired with Travis doing me a solid and sa
ying he was gonna stay on top of her dad and routinely check in on him had Legs in high spirits.
I barely got us parked at the back of lot and concealed by a tractor trailer rig before she was climbing over the console, throwing my seat back, and straddling me.
Thought she was looking to give me a hand job. She wasn’t, which was fucking great, but I wasn’t prepared for what she was wanting right now.
“Babe,” I murmured against her hot, hungry mouth. I groaned when her hand slid into my shorts and wrapped around me. “Fuck.”
“I know,” she whispered excitedly. Her hand felt like the warmest, tightest glove. Form-fitting to my flesh. “Someone could see us having sex, but I don’t care. I don’t care, Jamie. Let them see us. You stayed. You stayed for me.”
I stayed.
Oh yeah. Right. Forgot about that. The other reason this was going down right now.
Tori figured I was leaving sometime yesterday to head back to Dogwood Beach. Made that known when we were getting coffees and looked ready to ride my shit right then when I told her I’d already called Dash, told him to cancel my lessons and that I wouldn’t be in until her dad was released and she was leaving with me.
That could’ve been driving her. Or maybe it was a combination of everything that was motivating her to raise my hand job to a fuck. Whatever. She was feeling this and needing it to happen.
I was feeling it, too, needing it to happen probably more than she did, but like a dumbass, I wasn’t prepared. And we hadn’t been here before.
“Legs,” I murmured, gripping tight to her hips as she stroked me.
Her skin smelled like the hospital soap she’d used this morning during her shower. Antiseptic. I missed the sweet sugared lotion she typically wore.
“I’ll keep my top on. No one will see.” Tori released me, leaned back on my thighs, and popped the button on her shorts. “Can you help me take these off?” she asked. “I need help.”
I watched her fingers glide the zipper down.
I knew she was naked under those shorts. Tori made sure I knew it.
Her panties she’d been wearing before her shower were currently in my pocket. She’d stuffed them in there. Ten feet away from her parents, the little shit.
