Page 18 of Save Me

Jamie laughs and squeezes my shoulder. “Yes, I think you two would get along. He’s gruff until you get to know him, but he has a good heart. Kinda like someone else I know.” He gives my shoulder a little squeeze. “And he’s an amazing agent. He has outstanding instincts.”

I purposely don’t think about the words coming out of my mouth. “What about now?”

He pulls back and glances at me. “What about now?”

“You said we couldn’t back then, but what about now? Has anything really changed?” I’m sick thinking about what his answer will be, because really, nothinghaschanged. The silence drags out. I sit up and turn to him, barely able to breathe.

Several emotions cross his face, but he isn’t saying anything, which is answer enough. I move to put some distance between us, but Jamie cups the back of my head, holding me in place, and his warm amber eyes meet mine. “Ash.” His eyes say everything I’ve wanted to hear, and yet I still can’t seem to accept it. I look at him, silently begging him to say something, anything that will give me hope. “Ash, so much has changed.” He leans in and places a gentle kiss against my lips.

The weight of his words settles around my heart like a warm hug. There is so much meaning in them, even though he doesn’t explain. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear all of it anyway, but the words still fill me with a sense of relief and joy. I pretend it’s enough to overcome the reality of our circumstances, and ignore the pricking of tears behind my eyes. “I knew I loved Bécquer’s poetry.”

Jamie laughs and we settle back against the swing. “So, which one is your favorite?”

“Well, I do like twenty-three, but twenty-five has always seemed to fit best.”

“What does it say?” Jamie slips the elastic from my hair and runs his fingers through the now loose strands. I sigh and sit quietly, enjoying the gentle tug as his fingers untangle the mess. I don’t remember the last time someone touched me like this. When I finally speak, my voice sounds subdued, almost trancelike. “It’s much longer than twenty-three, and talks about love and intense desire, knowing someone so well you can almost read their thoughts.” Before I can talk myself out of it, I ask a question I’ve been dying to know. “Jamie?”

“Mmm?”

“Why aren’t you with someone?” His hand briefly stills in my hair, then resumes, and I glance over. There’s confusion on his face and I feel foolish. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

Jamie gently grips the back of my head. “Ash, I just don’t understand the question. I’m happy to answer whatever you want to ask.” He shifts on the swing so I’m tucked against his side, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “Can you phrase it differently?”

Not better, not clearer, but differently. I’m momentarily overwhelmed with how kind Jamie is, even in his confusion, and I have no idea what this very gentle, sweet man sees in me. “Why are you still single?”

Jamie chuckles and squeezes me. “Have you been talking to my mother? Did she pay you to ask that?”

“Your mother thinks I’m your boyfriend, so as far as she’s concerned, you aren’t single.”

Jamie gently tucks a finger under my chin and tilts my face until we’re looking at each other. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not either.”

My heart catches in my throat and I can only stare wide-eyed at him. “Oh.” Then I smile, small at first, but it grows into a full-blown grin. Did he really just tell me he considers himself taken? That he’s mine? Excitement and relief fills my heart so full it might burst with joy. I’m not alone in feeling so connected, that I belong with him and he belongs with me.

“That is, if it’s alright with you.” Jamie blushes a sweet shade of pink and without question it’s my new favorite color.

“It’s very much alright with me.” I put my hand on Jamie’s knee and laugh softly. “Besides, we wouldn’t want to have to tell your mother you lied to her.”

Jamie blushes again and looks out over the lake. I’m beginning to recognize it as his tell. He’s going to say something he finds personally embarrassing. I give his knee an encouraging squeeze. “She’s been asking me why I haven’t been dating. Why it didn’t seem like I wanted to.” There is a brief pause and I watch Jamie’s face intently, now also very curious about the answer. “I told her there was someone I met and couldn’t forget.”

“Oh.” Silently I bemoan my inability to be the least bit eloquent around him. I plod ahead anyway, before I lose my nerve. “It’s the same for me. I compare everyone I meet to you. There were men who asked me out. Attractive men. Sweet men. Well-off men.” I can tell he’s wondering if he should be concerned or insulted. I nudge him with my shoulder. “I live in San Francisco. The world’s gay Mecca. So, yes, a lot of men asked me out.” He just snorts and nudges me back. “I couldn’t bring myself to say yes to any of them.” I hold Jamie’s gaze because I want him to see I’m completely sincere. “Because none of them were you.”

Before I can blink, Jamie’s lips press against mine, and I lean into him, eagerly parting my lips so I can taste his mouth. The moan that comes from deep in my chest is shameless, and I don’t care. Our tongues caress and tease as Jamie’s hands tighten in my hair. It’s almost painful, but exciting, and a little possessive, and it’s all the encouragement I need. Without breaking the kiss, I carefully climb into his lap and straddle his hips. Then hands are everywhere; his, mine, wandering over each other’s bodies; touching, grabbing, kneading, as our kisses become almost desperate.

The swing lurches oddly with our frantic movements and out of a sense of self-preservation, and because porch swings aren’t the most comfortable place for this kind of thing, we reluctantly ease back and bring the kiss to a close.

I touch Jamie’s cheek and drag my fingernails through his stubble. I love how it looks. I love how it scrapes against my fingers. I imagine how it would feel against the soft skin of my inner thighs, and my cock twitches in approval. “I think I might have a thing for you with a beard.”

“Oh yeah? I’m definitely not shaving now.” Jamie laughs and rubs his cheek against my palm. “I have to admit, I love yours, too. It’s seriously sexy. I love your long hair, and the nose piercing.” Jamie playfully nips at my fingers. “But would you be mad if I told you I missed your mustache?”

I sigh and my shoulders slump as I pout a little. “I miss it too. It was incredibly traumatic when I had to shave it off. I’d had it for years.”

Jamie’s eyes sparkle mischievously. My heart gives a little flutter, and I can’t help but smile in advance of whatever he’s about to say. “I thought a lot about kissing you, and the mustache figured prominently.”

I feign annoyance. “So, you’re really only interested in my mustache? Sorry to disappoint.”

Jamie laughs and squeezes my hips, and I let out a little groan of pleasure. “Oh, believe me. The way you kiss? You could never disappoint.”

The compliment makes me unreasonably pleased and I can’t resist teasing him. “True. I am exceptionally good at kissing.” I grin wickedly and run my index finger along the underside of his jaw, tilting his face up until we’re looking eye to eye. His cock is hard and pressing against mine and I want him so much it hurts. “I’m exceptionally good at a lot of things.” I am rewarded with one of Jamie’s beautiful blushes and a rapidly bobbing Adam’s apple, which is utterly distracting. I want to lick it.

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