Page 44 of The Highwaymen

Jamie shifted against me, nuzzling deeper into the crook of my neck with a sleepy sigh. The casual intimacy of it still caught me off guard sometimes. I wasn't used to this, to having someone need me, want me, for more than a quick fuck or a job. Hell, I wasn't used to wanting someone this way either - like a gnawing hunger in my gut, an itch under my skin that only Jamie could scratch.

Despite the quiet contentment of the past few days, I could feel a restless itch starting to crawl beneath my skin. It was a feeling I knew well, one that had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. The urge to hurt, to destroy, to take a life and watch the light fade from my victim's eyes.

It had been too long since I'd last scratched that itch. The thrill of the road, the rush of smuggling and evading the law, had kept it at bay for a while. And more recently, the intoxicating distraction of Jamie, his touch and taste and the dark hunger in his eyes that mirrored my own. But now, even with Jamie warm and pliant in my arms, I could feel that old bloodlust rising, coiling hot and insistent in my gut.

I tried to push it down, to focus on the steady thrum of Jamie's heartbeat against my chest, the soft puffs of his breath against my neck. I didn't want to disturb this fragile peace we'd found, this respite from the violence and chaos that constantly dogged our heels. But even as I held him closer, burying my nose in his hair and breathing in his scent, I knew it was only a matter of time before the need grew too strong to ignore.

My mind began to wander, conjuring vivid images of past kills, phantom sensations of hot blood on my hands and the meaty thunk of metal impacting flesh and bone. Maybe it was because I was so pissed I’d let Romeo escape and Deacon unavenged. Maybe it was just because I was sitting on my thumbs instead of being on the road where I belonged. Either way, I needed to scratch that itch, and soon. But once I did, we might have to move on or risk bringing the law down on us.

As if sensing my dark thoughts, Jamie stirred against me, his eyelashes fluttering open. Those piercing dark eyes met mine, still hazy with sleep but sharpening quickly as he took in my expression.

“What's wrong, honey bunny?” he murmured, his voice raspy. He shifted up onto his elbow to see my face better, the sheet slipping down to pool at his waist.

I reached out to brush a stray curl off his forehead, marveling at the softness of his skin, the delicate arch of his cheekbone. “Nothing, pumpkin. Just thinkin'.”

Jamie leaned into my touch, his eyes drifting half-closed. But there was a knowing glint in that gaze, an understanding that went soul-deep. “Thinkin' about what you need to do,” he said quietly. It wasn't a question.

I huffed a rueful laugh. Wasn't any point in denying it, not with him. “Yeah. Gettin' antsy. Been too long since I…scratched that itch.”

Something flickered in Jamie's eyes, there and gone too quick to decipher. His pink tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I know what you mean,” he said, his voice gone low and rough. “I feel it too. That hunger.”

He shifted over me, straddling my hips. The drag of his bare skin against mine sent sparks skittering down my spine. My hands settled on Jamie's slim hips as if they belonged there, fingers digging into the firm muscle.He was already half-hard against my stomach, his pupils blown wide and dark with desire.

Jamie leaned down, his hair falling around us like a curtain as he brought his lips to my ear. “I want to watch you do it,” he breathed, his voice sending shivers through me. “I want to see the life drain from their eyes as you take them apart. I want to taste their blood on your skin.”

Jamie's words lit a fire in my blood, dark and all-consuming. My grip tightened on his hips as I rolled us over, pinning him beneath me. He let out a breathless laugh, his eyes glinting with wicked delight.

“Fuck, Jamie,” I growled, nipping at his throat. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Oh, I think I have some idea,” Jamie purred, grinding his hips up into mine. The friction made me groan, my already hard cock throbbing with need.

I captured his mouth in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue, devouring him. Jamie kissed me back just as fiercely, his nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood.

When I broke away, we were both panting harshly. Jamie's lips were kiss swollen and slick with spit, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. He looked absolutely debauched, and it was the most beautiful fucking thing I'd ever seen.

“I want to do it tonight,” I rasped, my voice rough with lust and bloodlust. “And I want you to help.”

Jamie's grin was razor-sharp and feral. “I thought you'd never ask.”

We took our time getting ready. There was something deeply erotic about helping each other dress for the hunt.

I helped Jamie into his tight black jeans, my hands lingering on the curve of his ass as I pulled the denim up over his slim hips. Heshimmied a little, throwing a coy glance over his shoulder at me. I gave his ass a light smack, making him yelp and laugh.

Next was a sheer black mesh top that left little to the imagination. It clung to Jamie's lithe torso like a second skin, his dusky nipples clearly visible through the fabric. He struck a pose, jutting out one hip. “How do I look?”

I raked my gaze over him, from his combat boots to his painted-on jeans to the slutty top and the fingerprint bruises I'd left on his pale throat. My cock throbbed in my jeans. “Perfect.”

Jamie smirked and sauntered over to me, all rolling hips and bedroom eyes. He trailed his fingers down my chest. “Your turn.”

I stood still as he dressed me, savoring the brush of his fingers against my skin as he buttoned my worn flannel shirt, leaving the top few undone to expose the hollow of my throat. He smoothed his hands over my chest, his touch lingering, before reaching for my belt. The rasp of leather through denim seemed obscenely loud in the charged silence.

Jamie knelt to slip my feet into heavy boots, his clever fingers lacing them tightly. My breath caught at the sight of him on his knees before me, his pink lips parted and eyes hooded. He looked up at me through his lashes as he finished, his hands sliding slowly up my thighs as he rose. I caught his wrists, yanking him against me and claiming his mouth in a filthy kiss.

We broke apart, both of us breathing hard. Jamie's lips were red and slick, his eyes glassy with desire. I wanted nothing more than to throw him down on the bed and fuck him senseless, but the itch beneath my skin was growing more insistent by the second. The need to hunt, to kill, was a living thing inside me, clawing at my guts.

“Let's go,” I growled, grabbing my keys and heading forthe door.

We hit the road in my rig, the rumble of the engine echoing the dark anticipation thrumming through my veins. Jamie was a live wire beside me, his leg bouncing and fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh. I could practically taste his excitement, sharp and electric on my tongue.

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