Page 69 of Game On

“Sorry,” Dorian said, though he couldn’t help but laugh. “I forgot I was holding it.”

Poppy licked up whatever had landed on the floor.

Dorian set the glass on the counter, handed Jamie a tea towel, then started on the buttons of his suit coat.

“I see how it is,” Jamie said with a leer as Dorian tugged the coat down his arms. “You just wanted an excuse to get me out of my clothes.”

“Do I need an excuse?” Dorian unbuttoned his shirt next. “Because you seemed pretty willing to take them off voluntarily a second ago.”

“Well, you know what they say—tit for tat and all that.” Jamie walked backwards towards the stairs. Dorian followed since he still had his fingers on Jamie’s buttons.

“Who says that exactly?” Dorian asked, just to mess with him.

Jamie nipped at his jaw. “Don’t sass me, Dori.”

“You like it when I sass you,” Dorian said as they climbed the handful of steps to the landing, pausing there before continuing their way up.

“Can’t argue with that, though I can get think of other uses for that mouth of yours at the moment.”

So could Dorian. So he put it to another use, finding Jamie’s mouth with his own, right there on the landing, their limbs tangled, Jamie’s shirt dangling off one arm. God. All that skin for Dorian to explore was heady. Jamie was muscle on top of muscle, his skin shifting over coiled strength, and Dorian couldn’t wait to be pinned underneath it all.

But, because his mind never stopped working, between kisses, he murmured, “Jamie. What are we doing?”

“I thought that was pretty obvious,” Jamie said against his neck.

“No, I mean... what are we doing? This isn’t just a convenience thing, is it, because?—”

“Do we need to rehash the conversation where I told you I liked you?”

Apparently. Because Dorian was just that pathetic. “Nope.” He grinned. “All good.”

Jamie’s solemn gaze met his. Looming over Dorian, he pressed one hand flat against the wall by Dorian’s head, keeping him trapped.

“Don’t give me that fake-ass smile,” Jamie said quietly. “No, this isn’t a convenience thing, and if you really believe it is, I’ll book a long-term stay at a hotel and move out tomorrow. When I said I liked you, I meant it. You make me feel alive for the first time in months.” He placed a kiss at the corner of Dorian’s mouth. “You make me laugh.” A kiss on the opposite corner. “You make me feel things and want to take risks and start trusting myself again. So I’m going to take you to bed, whether to sleep or not sleep, I’m good either way, and tomorrow I’m going to Shore family brunch with you, where you’ll introduce me as your new boyfriend and everyone will love me because I’m a likeable guy. And everyone will say, ‘Damn, Dorian, you snagged yourself a good one,’ and I’ll say, ‘Nah, you’ve got that backwards. I’m the one who got myself a good one because Dorian’s pretty much the coolest, smartest, most amazing person I’ve ever met—like, have you seen his app?—and the fact that he thinks I’m the shit is pretty awesome.’”

Dorian stared, speechless for perhaps the first time in his life. A flare of love unfurled in his belly, new and scary and delicate, like that first snowfall of the year that made a person think twice about driving in it. Every thud of his heart beat in time to Jamie’s breaths. Every cell in his body wanted this man in every way that mattered.

Dorian’s mind didn’t know what to settle on first. Swallowing thickly, he eventually murmured, “I never said you were the shit.”

Jamie’s grin formed slowly, and Dorian savoured every curving millimetre. “But you’ve thought it.”

“Have I?”

Chuckling softly, Jamie sort of fell into him. He yanked Dorian close, tucking his face in Dorian’s neck, and just... held him. Chest squeezing at the gesture, Dorian returned the hug, holding on just as tightly, his eyes pricking with unnameable things that made his skin tingle and his heart melt. It made him feel flayed apart, as though Jamie had cut him open with a knife to reveal the tenderest, most sensitive parts of himself that he’d kept hidden for years.

He squeaked when Jamie’s arms tightened around him, bodily lifted him off the floor, and started up the stairs.

“Put me down, you idiot,” he said as Poppy’s dog tags jingled nearby. “You’re going to trip over the dog and kill all three of us.”

Jamie set him down. Eyed Poppy, who’d streaked past them and now sat on one of the steps above them, watching.

“Poppy,” Jamie said firmly. “Off the stairs.”

She huffed and carried on to the second floor.

Jamie whacked him on the butt gently. “You too, Dori.”

Rolling his eyes, Dorian followed Poppy up.

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