Page 17 of Save Me

We miraculously make it to the kitchen without more touching, though I admit not for my lack of trying. Jamie seems to have a sixth sense and knows when my hands are near him, easily dodging out of the way. I can’t decide if I should be insulted or impressed. We enter the kitchen, and he heads for the back door. “I’ll grab some more kindling. Pancake mix is in the third cooler, along with the milk and eggs.”

“You’ve thought of everything.” I narrow my eyes, squinting at him. “You were a boy scout, weren’t you?” Jamie laughs and heads outside while I gather the necessary items from the cooler and set them on the counter. I search for a large mixing bowl in the many cupboards and find one just as he comes back in with an armful of wood and dumps it into the metal bucket by the stove. He uses a metal hook to open a door on the cooking surface and drops a few sticks of the kindling in. I take a few minutes to realize I’m doing nothing but openly gawking at his flexing biceps, and the way his T-shirt stretches beautifully across the muscles of his back. “See, now I’m sure you were a boy scout. I wouldn’t have the first clue how to manage that, but I definitely don’t mind watching you do it.” The words come out a bit breathy.

Jamie grins and points his finger at me. “Behave.” He closes the distance between us and slides his arms around me, and I melt into him. “You’re supposed to be making me breakfast.”

“You make it very difficult to behave.” I place my hands against his chest and slowly outline the ridges of his chest with my fingertips, lightly teasing his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt. I am ridiculously pleased as I watch his pupils expand.

He places his hands over mine, stilling them. “Behave.” He leans close and his breath against my ear has my cock perking up. “Because two can play at that game, Ash. And I’mverycompetitive.”

He has my full attention, though I laugh at the taunt. “Well, I believe that’s a challenge. One that I eagerly accept.” I tweak his nipples playfully and turn away, saucily glancing over my shoulder as I step to the counter.

Jamie’s eyes are dark with arousal, and I watch as they hungrily travel down the length of my body, then back up. With a smirk I turn to focus on the ingredients, assuming that will be the end of the flirting, at least until after breakfast. Oh, how wrong I am. He steps close, hovering right behind me, and slides his left hand under my shirt, splaying his fingers across the center of my chest, pulling me back against his wonderfully hard body. My eyes close, and I lean against him as his cock nestles firmly into the cleft of my ass. It takes everything I have not to grind against him, or turn around and devour his mouth, knowing it’s exactly what he wants. “For the record, I like to win.” I should have known he plays dirty. I try to resist his sex-laden voice, but I can’t. I whimper and drop my head back against his shoulder. By sheer force of will, I keep my hands locked around the edge of the counter rather than grabbing his hips so I can grind back against him. I have serious doubts about my ability to remain standing as his right hand slips into the top of my pants.Oh god, oh god, oh godwars in my head withyes yes yes!He leans closer, his lips hovering next to my ear, and smoothly delivers the killing blow. “I don’t always play fair” He teases me with fingers that stroke tantalizingly close to my cock, but never touch. I tilt my hips, trying to make up the distance. “But I never cheat.”

I want to say something snarky, but I’m having difficulty forming thoughts. My brain is too focused on Jamie’s fingers and his warm breath against my ear. That is, until he rolls his hips and presses his palm against my abdomen, settling his cock firmly between my ass cheeks. I moan like branches in a strong autumn wind, and I don’t even care. I can’t help it. Giving up, I grab his hip with one hand and grind back against him, my own cock fully hard and aching, desperate for him to wrap his hand around me. “Jamie.” I let go of my death grip on the counter, my voice climbing toward desperate, and slide my fingers into his hair. “Please.”

Though I will never admit it out loud, I love being teased like this almost as much as I love complaining about it. The resulting ache has just a hint of pain, and it’s so fucking hot! I lean into him, desperate to get his hand wrapped around me, and scrabble for purchase when, without warning, he removes his hands and steps back. The whimper I make is pitiful and should be embarrassing, but I’m too focused on keeping my feet under me to care. I manage to steady myself as he slowly pushes the box of pancake mix in my direction. “Breakfast.”

I glare at him over my shoulder. “I used to think you were a nice man. I will always cherish that initial misconception.” He just laughs. It takes a few breaths and a lot of thinking about my broken phone before I regain precarious control of myself. “Fine. I’ll make pancakes.” I sniff haughtily, snatch up the box of mix, and try to fight my overwhelming urge to clear the table in one sweep of my arm and fuck him right on it. I look in the drawers for a measuring cup and pretend I’m not utterly flustered. “Not that you deserve any, butIwant pancakes. I suppose since I’m making them for myself, you can have some as well.”

Jamie kisses the side of my head. “Thank goodness.” I roll my eyes and fight off the smile tugging at my lips. I like this playful Jamie with his sexy sweet smiles and easy laugh. I especially like his willingness to touch and kiss me. There could be a lot more of it, though. And follow-through. He needs to work on follow-through. I’m willing to help because I’m selfless like that.

By the time the pancake batter is mixed, and the table is set, my raging hard-on has subsided, and Jamie has the cast-iron skillet ready. “Keep the batter to the center of the pan. You can easily make charcoal cakes if you aren’t paying attention.” I square my shoulders and approach the stove, ready to do battle with the beast. Jamie stays close, one hand steady on the small of my back. It’s comforting, but also distracting. “I’ll help you with the first one, if that’s alright.”

It’s more than alright, especially if he keeps his hand where it is. Our first pancake together turns out well, and I handle the rest on my own. While I concentrate on that, Jamie cooks bacon and by the time we’re both finished, I’m famished. We sit at the table and eat, spending just as much time smiling and sneaking looks at each other as consuming food. How is it I’ve been reduced to high school romantic flirting? And why am I okay with that? Who even am I?

When we’ve finished with breakfast, we clear the table and wash the dishes. Jamie banks the fire in the stove, and I peruse the bookshelves in the living room, looking for something to read.

There are several Farmer’s Almanacs shoved on the bottom shelf, and I chuckle to myself. I see a few biographies of people I’ve never heard of, or am not interested in, and an entire shelf devoted to the finding and harvesting of edible plants in the wild. I’m about to head upstairs to look at the books in the bedroom when a thin paperback catches my eye. It’s tucked between a Sudoku book and a crossword dictionary and I carefully slip it free. It’s a volume of Spanish poetry and my mouth drops open as I read the title page.Rimas y Leyendas (selección): Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer. It’s been years since I’ve read them, and I’m curious who in the MacDougall family speaks Spanish well enough to appreciate a book like this.

I take my treasure and head outside where Jamie is sitting on the porch swing. I tentatively settle next to him, leaving a bit of space between us, suddenly unsure of what’s acceptable behavior. He puts his arm around the back of the swing and slips his fingers into my hair, playing with the loose strands at the nape of my neck. It’s wonderful and intimate. I shiver with pleasure and lean into his touch. Once again Jamie calms me with ease, all the awkwardness I’d been manufacturing between us gone with a single touch.

“What did you find?” His voice jolts me out of the stupor his caress has put me in. I laugh and show him the book. He looks surprised. “Sabes leer Español?”

I grin, assuming I’ve found the owner of the book. That knowledge makes me ridiculously pleased. “Sí. Español, Français, Latine, Ellinika, Konkani, Gujarati, Marathi, and Bhili.”

Jamie blushes. “I just read the one.” He points at the book. “That was mine from college. There are some really great poems in there.”

I temper my grin, suddenly aware of how ill-mannered I’m being, and try to explain. “My parents insisted I learn multiple languages. They assumed I’d be going into international business like my father. Needless to say, since that’s what they wanted, I was determined it would never happen.” Jamie squeezes the back of my neck in silent support before combing his fingers through my hair again. I breathe, letting my tension ease away. I’m well past allowing what they wanted to matter. I flip through the book, letting Jamie’s gentle touches and quiet strength center me. “Which one’s your favorite?”

He looks out over the lake, considering my question. He’s quiet for so long that I wonder if he’s going to say anything. “There’s one in there that I’d think about when I was missing you.”

That’s not a sentence I was ever expecting to hear. I stare at him, my mouth ajar, and take a good, long moment to digest it. Jamie smiles and nods like he knows what I’m thinking. Incredulously I ask, “Which poem?”

He blushes and brushes his lips against my temple, then rests his cheek against my hair and I might die with the perfection of this moment. “Rhyme twenty-three.” His voice is soft and wistful, and my chest aches because I know the one he means. It’s short, but intense, and one of my favorites, too.

My mind is a whirlwind with the realization that Jamie did have feelings for me, even when we were in the safehouse. I wasn’t imagining it. Damn! We’ve wasted so much time. Then I have a sobering thought. It would have been more painful to leave if I’d known. Honestly, I’m not sure I could have done it. I’m not sure I can do it now that whatever this is, is happening. I push that entire argument out of my mind. I will not ruin this amazing moment with future trouble. “I wasn’t sure you felt the same. You always acted so professionally.”

Jamie slips his arm around me and pulls me against his side. “Ash, surely you knew. I was practically screaming it to everyone.” His lips brush along my temple, and I press closer. “Duncan certainly figured it out.”

“Duncan. He was the other marshal on duty that last night. You two are close?”

I feel Jamie nod. “Yeah. He’s my best friend. It was his idea to patrol outside so we could have some time alone.” Jamie’s breath tickles against my skin as he sighs. “It was a sweet thought, but I couldn’t.Wecouldn’t.”

A heat spreads through me as I realize what Jamie means. I want to hear him say it anyway, because yes, I’m needy like that. “We couldn’t what?”

“So many things.” It’s his wistfulness that kills me. “We couldn’t be together because you were leaving. Or be together at all, even for just one night, which is what Duncan thought should happen.”

I can’t see Jamie’s face with his head pressed against mine, but I’m pretty sure he’s blushing. “I think I like Duncan and underappreciated him while he was around. He seems like a wise person.”

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