Page 40 of The Highwaymen

Jamie set the money bag down more gently, his eyes roaming the room before settling back on me. There was a new tension between us, electric and pulsing. I could feel it like a physical thing, raising all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

Jamie sauntered over to the bed, perching on the edge with his long legs sprawled wide. He leaned back on his hands, the position makinghis shirt ride up to reveal a strip of toned stomach. My eyes zeroed in on that tantalizing patch of skin like a heat-seeking missile.

“So...” Jamie drawled, “Just you and me, Stu. Whatever will we do to pass the time?”

His voice was pure sin, low and smoky with invitation. I swallowed hard, trying to hold on to my rapidly fraying control.

“Change your bandages for starters,” I said gruffly, averting my eyes from the temptation of his body.

Jamie laughed, a husky sound that went straight to my cock. “You know how to show a guy a good time.”

But he didn't protest as I grabbed the first aid kit and sat beside him on the bed. The stained mattress dipped under our combined weight, making him slide closer until our thighs brushed. Even through layers of clothing, that simple contact was enough to make my blood burn hot.

I focused on the task at hand, carefully peeling away the old gauze taped to his temple. The stitches had scabbed over, but it was still an angry red. I dabbed at it with antiseptic, my touch gentler than I ever thought myself capable of. Jamie hissed through his teeth, but held still.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, smoothing a fresh bandage in place.

“Kiss it better?” he suggested with a wicked grin.

I snorted. “Nice try, kid.”

But when I made to pull back, he caught my wrist. His fingers were hot bands around my pulse point. “I'm not a kid, Stu. I haven't been for a long damn time.”

There was no mistaking the heat in his gaze as it raked over me, lingering on my mouth. Fuck. He was going to be the death of me.

“You should heal up some before we go messing around again,” I said firmly.

He rolled his eyes. “You didn’t seem to care when you had me bent over the bathroom sink in that veterinary hospital.”

I gritted my teeth, the memory of taking him hard and fast against that grimy sink flashing through my mind in vivid technicolor. The desperate sounds he'd made, the tight heat of his body clenching around me. I'd never wanted anyone the way I wanted him in that moment. The way I still wanted him now, even beat to hell and bandaged.

“That was different,” I said gruffly, trying to banish the vivid images from my mind. “We both needed to blow off some steam after all the shit that went down. But you took a hard knock to the head. You need rest.”

Jamie made a low sound of frustration. “What I need is you, Stu.” His hand slid up my thigh, palming the bulge of my hard-on through my jeans.

I groaned, my hips rocking into his touch. It would be so goddamn easy to give in, to let him have his wicked way with me. To lose myself in his tight, willing body and block out the rest of the world, if only for a night.

But I couldn't let myself forget what he was: a liability. A weakness that could be exploited if I let my guard down. If I let myself care too much.

“Kid...” I protested, but it came out embarrassingly close to a whimper as he popped the button on my fly, slipping his hand inside. I caught his wrist and held his gaze. “We both need to rest.”

Jamie stared back at me, defiance and desire warring in his eyes. For a long, charged moment, we just looked at each other, the air between us crackling with tension. Then he abruptly pulled his hand free of my grip.

“Fine,” he said coolly, rising from the bed in one fluid motion. “You rest. I'm going to take a shower.”

He grabbed the duffel of spare clothes and stalked toward the bathroom, his lean hips swaying enticingly. I watched him go, my cock throbbing almost painfully against my zipper. It took every ounce of my fraying self-control not to follow him, to strip him bare and take what he was so blatantly offering.

The bathroom door slammed shut with a bang, making me flinch. A second later, I heard the hiss of the shower spray and a low groan from Jamie that sounded unmistakably like my name.

“Fuck,” I hissed, falling back against the faded bedspread. That kid really was going to be the death of me.

I stepped out ofthe steam-filled bathroom, a towel slung low around my hips. Water still ran down my chest from my damp hair. The cool air raised goosebumps on my flushed skin.

Stu was sprawled on the bed, still fully dressed. One arm was thrown over his eyes, his chest rising and falling evenly. For a moment I just stood there, drinking in the sight of him. He looked different in sleep, the hard lines of his face relaxed, his sensual mouth slack. With his guard down, he seemed younger, more vulnerable somehow.

A pang went through me, an ache in my chest I couldn't quite name. Longing, maybe. For what, I wasn't sure. I knew only that I’d beenfeeling it more and more around Stu, and now it was stronger than ever.

I padded silently to the bed and slid into it next to him. The mattress dipped under my weight but Stu didn't stir, even when I boldly curled myself around him, one leg thrown over his hips. I half-expected him to wake up swinging, but he just made a soft, sleepy sound and turned his face into my damp hair.

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