Page 102 of Splintered Hearts

Jamie sifts through some of the things in there. Every other week I’ve been steadily getting fun things to play with. I never dared when I lived back home, but I wanted this bad. Sex is fun, and I want to make it as fun as possible. “What’s this?”

Jamie holds up a slender oblong object. “A good time.” Jamie inspects it sceptically. “It’s a prostate massager, and yes, you can use it on me.”

Jamie tosses it onto the bed. Okay, damn. Yes. Jamie pulls out my shimmery purple dildo. “Really?”

“What?” I snatch the dildo from his hand. “This is Veronica and she will be treated with respect.”

“Veronica?”

“I am all for women’s rights.”

“To peg you, apparently.”

“I have never dabbled, but boobs fascinate me.”

“Okay . . .”

“Balls of the chest.”

“Not even a little close.” Putting Veronica back, he closes the box. I take off my towel and Jamie’s eyes eat me alive. My skin hums with each place his eyes land as they do a slow crawl up the length of me. I grab an extra sheet from my plastic bin, putting it on the bed and taking off my comforter.

Laying the sheet down, I get on the bed, lying back with myknees spread out, open for him. “Jesus,” Jamie hisses.

Jamie’s towel drops along with my jaw. Miles of tan skin to put my lips on. Jamie’s arms are defined, his body muscled but not as defined as mine. His stomach is a little soft, with a happy trail I want to bury my face in. Eying him, I nearly drool. Most of the scars are deep purple now, and the one on his chest always gets my attention first. It’s big, rough, and puckered, taking up most of his pec right above his nipple. Another scar runs from under his left pec, down his stomach in an angry slash.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The little whispered voice makes me look up. His dark eyes glitter, nearly black.

“Like you’re quite possibly the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen? Because you are.”

Jamie’s face twists a bit, his lips pursing as he gets on the bed between my thighs. “I’ve never had someone talk about me like that.” The confession steals my breath. “I like it.”

“To get compliments?”

“To feel worthy, I guess.” His voice is so quiet.

It’s way more than his looks and I want to tell him that. Jamie is prickly, and yes he has a bit of an attitude that makes me want to tear my hair out. He’s also sweet and kind in ways that are subtle. If you aren’t paying attention you’ll miss them.

Shit, do I pay attention.

Jamie cares deeply about his friends and family. He just has a hard time voicing his feelings out loud. He cares a lot. Ever since I started working, Jamie does my laundry, claiming he doesn’t mind because he’s doing it anyway. Which may be true, but he also folds it, and after getting my permission, he even puts my clothes away. I help him clean the house, but I’d mentioned how much I hate folding clothes, so Jamie does them for me.

When Hunter complained that his knee was bothering him, Jamie researched online one night about natural ways to ease pain, then got Hunter some things to try, claiming they werethings he’d had left over. I’d been here when he received the brand new package in the mail.

Bri had come over one day, upset because she was stiffed by a client, and Jamie made extra trays of food her and Xavi so they wouldn’t have to worry about eating that week. He’d claimed he just made too much so she and Xavi didn’t feel embarrassed about the situation.

There were things he did and then shrugged, like it was no big deal. “What if I suck at this?”

“Well, you are great at sucking. You’ll be fine. Oh! And licking. So fucking good at licking.” That makes him laugh. “Do you want me like this or on my stomach?”

“Yes.” He laughs. “No, I want to see your face.” He grabs the handcuffs as his eyes roam over my skin. “Can I lock them around the bars?”

I nod, looking up as Jamie leans over and cuffs me in place. His eyes meet mine as he hovers over me. I lift up, placing a kiss to his chest, and his hungry mouth slants over mine, kissing me with everything he has.

Fuck.

Moving back down my body, he sits between my thighs. I pull my legs up, spreading them wide for him, and Jamie’s face twists with anger I don’t expect. He places his hands on the tops of his thighs, looking up at the ceiling. “Fuck!”

“What?” What’s wrong?

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