Page 57 of Where We Promise

“Sorry…just feels good.”

His hands continued, then he cleared his throat. “It’s okay…um, but speaking of…feeling good, was it okay that I texted you the lock emoji yesterday?”

“It was fine, I’m glad you did.” I wasn’t sure exactly what to say and I couldn’t tell him it had made me all sorts of hot and bothered that he’d done it.

“But you…you don’t ever text it, and I just don’t want to be in this alone, or like I’m the only one trying to get off around here.” He laughed lightly, like he was trying to lighten the mood.

I chuckled softly because he’d only done it once, and this felt very much like he was trying to figure out a way to bring the topic up without being obvious.

“Well, I would, but my vibrator isn’t as pleasurable these days.”

Jameson waited before moving his hands lower. “Why not?”

Another moan escaped me as his thumbs pressed into my spine, and this time, I didn’t apologize for it. He seemed like he was giving me some hints, and he hadn’t done anything remotely close to it in so long. I was ravished for his attention.

“It’s a small wand vibrator, and with my stomach, I’m having a hard time reaching my clit without twisting to do it. It starts to hurt my side after a while.”

And the worst part was, the last week or so the aching was the worst it had ever been.

Jameson was quiet behind me, the only indication that I had about him possibly overthinking was how firm his hands became against my skin, how he slowly trailed the pads of his fingers over my bare shoulders…how his warm breath fanned the center of my back as he let out a resigned sigh. As if he were finally just going to give in.

“Would you—” he started then stopped. “If I could help…would you…”

He cleared his throat, and my face heated. Jameson didn’t fumble his words; he wasn’t shy or unsure, at least not that I’d ever experienced. The memory of when he’d gripped my hips and told me it was my taste he wanted that night, surfaced, making me squeeze my thighs together.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” I said as a way to protect my heart. As much as I wanted to accept his help, I knew he would do something in true Jamie fashion that made me feel like I was just a giant regret.

His chest felt closer, against my back as he whispered in my ear, “It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable…it doesn’t have to mean anything. I just know you have needs…with the hormones and stuff. I don’t mind helping you. I can also just find you a longer wand online and have it shipped here.”

I shook my head. “Wouldn’t be worth it since I only have a few weeks left.”

His hands moved lighter, in soothing strokes. “Then…”

“I’d appreciate the help if you honestly don’t mind. I’ve been aching for a few days because it’s hurting my side too much to twist around to use the wand.”

Jameson shifted behind me, his hands dropping away from my shoulders.

“Okay. How do you want to do this then?”

“I could lie back on the pillows and?—”

Jameson was up, moving around the bed to help me and his massive, erect dick imprint wasn’t hard to miss…at fucking all.

“I can sit with my back to you, so you feel like you have privacy…”

His hands wrapped around mine as I shifted back and rested against the pillows.

“I feel like that would make it awkward, and I can’t do this if it doesn’t feel organic. Can we just slip into our fake fiancé roles like we do in public?”

His dark eyes assessed me, a flash of hurt before it was gone, and I panicked. I always said the wrong thing around him, but if I outright asked for this to be real, he’d tell me no. Pretending was the next best shot I had at feeling like it was genuine.

“So we pretend…we just?—”

I nodded, holding his gaze. “I mean, unless you don’t want to. I respect that too.”

“I think it might take me a second…I’ll have to balance how into the façade we go, because it could go too far.”

Of course it could. I nearly rolled my eyes but withheld the urge.

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