Page 68 of Game On

“There’s a bunch of us heading out to a nearby bar to celebrate the win,” Toussaint told him as he and Jamie approached. “Want to come?”

“Nah,” Dorian said. “But thanks.”

Toussaint clapped Jamie on the back. “See you there, JJ.”

“Can’t tonight,” Jamie murmured, still in that voice that made Dorian want to drop to his knees right there. His eyes locked onto Dorian’s. “I’ve got other things to do.”

Dorian sucked in a breath, heat pooling in his gut. Those other things Jamie had to do better involve him, him, and him again.

Toussaint’s gaze swung between them, and his eyebrows slowly rose higher and higher. “Uh-huh. I see how it is.” Another clap to Jamie’s back, this time paired with a leer. “Have fun, you two.” He was out the door in the next moment.

“Shall we?” Dorian said.

“We shall.” Jamie bumped their shoulders on their way to Dorian’s car. “Didn’t expect you to still be here.”

“Mark wanted me to stick around,” Dorian said. “Cover the game from here.”

“Uh-huh. Did he also want you to stick around for half an hour afterwards so you could drive me home?”

“You don’t know that he didn’t.” Biting back a smile, Dorian unlocked his SUV and climbed in. “Tell me something, hotshot.”

“Sure.”

“What the actual fuck is icing?”

Jamie’s laugh was even more potent in the confines of the car than it had been in the hallway.

Poppy met them at the door when they arrived home, tail wagging.

“Hey, girl.” Jamie squatted to accept doggie kisses. “Hi. Did you have a good night? Why yes, I had a great night, thank you for asking.”

Dorian snorted a laugh on his way to the kitchen, where he poured a glass of water. “You better wash your face before you kiss me goodnight.”

“Goodnight?” Jamie murmured, picking Poppy up. “He thinks I won’t be kissing him good morning too? And good midnight and probably also good two a.m.? If I’m lucky, I might also get good three a.m., but he tends to fall asleep after that.”

Dorian’s fingers clenched around his water glass. “You know what time I go to bed?”

“Poppy,” Jamie whispered to the dog. “He thinks I don’t notice everything he does. I live here too. Plus, he walks around wearing crop tops and thinks I don’t follow his every move?”

“What crop top?”

“The one you wore with the harem pants the day I arrived.” Jamie set the dog down and prowled toward him, all big and scruffy, a naughty edge to his grin. His hands encircled Dorian’s waist. “You had all this skin on display that made me want to nibble at it.”

“Even all the way back then, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jamie took Dorian’s bottom lip between his teeth. “And every minute in between.”

Their lips met, hungry and insistent. Jamie walked him backward, and Dorian gasped when his back hit the wall between the kitchen and the living room. Jamie devoured his mouth, his arms keeping him in place. Dorian couldn’t move and didn’t care to.

He couldn’t think of another instance where he’d fallen so quickly and wanted so badly to give himself over to another person. There was something about Jamie that had grabbed onto Dorian from the beginning and hadn’t let go. His combination of wholesomeness and giant teddy-bear personality maybe? The way he really seemed to listen when Dorian spoke? The way he looked at him like he was important and not just a body taking up space? His love of Poppy, which had been only one of the reasons Dorian hadn’t let that couple take her away?

He kissed like a dream too, which, yes, was new information, but it was another aspect of Jamie that would keep Dorian coming back for more.

He clutched at Jamie with one hand and raised the other to grasp Jamie’s hair?—

Only to tip water down his back.

“Gah!” Jamie danced away, hopping from foot to foot. “Cold, cold, cold.”

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