“Jamie…” His name is the only thing I can manage as my grip tightens in his hair, my body trembling under the overwhelming heat of his mouth and the firm, steady hold of his hands. I’m not going to last, and I know he can tell.
Jamie sits up, his back straight and his eyes locked onto mine. My breath catches as he slides his sweatpants down, his movements unhurried, teasing, like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me.
He’s so hard it almost makes me groan just looking at him. A faint, barely audible sigh escapes his lips when his hand finally wraps around himself, the sound sending a spark straight through me. He leans into me, steady and confident, aligning us together in a way that makes my pulse race.
The moment his fingers wrap around the both of us and he starts to move, I lose whatever composure I thought I had left. The warmth of his grip, the slow, steady glide of his hand. My hips jerk against him instinctively, and he smirks, his confidence radiating in every calculated motion.
“You good?” he asks, his tone low, teasing, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—affection, reassurance.
I nod, swallowing hard, unable to form words. My hands find his hips, fingers digging into the firm muscle there, holding onto him like he’s my lifeline. He leans down, his lips brushing against mine in a way that’s almost tender, completely at odds with the steady rhythm of his hand.
“Stay with me,” he murmurs against my mouth, and I feel his breath warm against my skin. His hand tightens, his movements just a little rougher, and I can feel every inch of him against me, the friction sending my brain into overdrive.
“Jamie…” My voice is strained, desperate, and he responds with a soft laugh, his lips trailing along my jaw.
“You're so fucking good,” he whispers, and there’s a wicked edge to his voice now, a quiet confidence that leaves me utterly wrecked. He shifts his weight, his body pressing closer, and all I can do is cling to him, my hands sliding up his back as he works us both toward the edge.
“I don’t want you holding back, Jeff,” he murmurs, leaning down. “No walls, no filters. Just you.”
And that’s when it hits me—this isn’t just physical for him. It's never been. It’s all of me he’s claiming, all of me he’s coaxing out of my carefully built defenses. He’s not demanding control; he’s giving me the space to be completely raw with him, completely seen.
So, I give in. Completely.
I flip him over, grinning at the startled laugh he lets out as he lands on the mattress. His legs hook around my waist almost instinctively, holding me there, and when I look down at him, he’s smiling, that same confident, mischievous smile that drives me wild.
“What’s with the look?” Jamie teases, his hands sliding up my chest. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a guy who knows what he wants.”
I laugh, low and breathless, and lean down, kissing him deeply. “I’ve seen it,” I murmur against his lips. “I’m looking at him right now.”
Jamie arches up to meet me, his body fitting against mine like we were made for this. His hands trail down my back, guiding me as we move together, and it’s all so effortless, so natural. Every touch, every kiss, every sound feels like a conversation only the two of us can have.
He doesn’t just take—he leads. Every shift of his hips, every squeeze of his legs around me while I rut against him, every whispered encouragement egging me on keeps me tethered to him, makes it clear that he’s the one pulling me deeper into this connection we share.
“You feel that?” he murmurs, his voice softer now, more serious, his fingers threading through my hair as he pulls me down so our foreheads touch. “That’s us, Jeff. No one else. Just us.”
“Yeah,” I breathe, completely undone. “Just us.”
And when we finally reach the edge together, his name is the only thing on my lips, and the way he holds me after makes it clear that I’ve given him exactly what he wanted. No walls, no filters. Just me.
By the time we stumble out of the bedroom, Lucy’s dead center in the living room, gripping my surfboard like she’s auditioning for a role in a post-apocalyptic action movie. Her face is flushed, her hair’s coming loose from her ponytail, and the sheer mix of exhaustion and unfiltered rage radiating off her almost makes me take a step back.
Oh, shit. I nearly forgot she was here to help me move.
“Are you twofucking seriousright now?!” she shrieks, pointing the surfboard at us like it’s a javelin she’s moments away from hurling. “I’m out there breaking my back,sweating my ass off,and you’re in here doing—whatever the hellthatwas! Screwing each other’s brains out while I’m stuck moving your ridiculous amount of crap?!”
Jamie immediately bites down on his lip, doing his best to keep it together, but his eyes are already sparkling with suppressed laughter. I glance at him, then back at Lucy. Yeah, I should probably feel bad... but I don’t. Not even a little.
I clear my throat, trying to sound apologetic but failing miserably as my grin grows wider. “Uh... we’ll make it up to you?”
Lucy’s nostrils flare. “You’dbettermake it up to me, Jeff! Pizza. Two large. Garlic knots. And none of that cheap-ass place on the corner! I want thegood stuff!”
“Deal,” Jamie pipes up, his voice slightly shaky from holding back laughter.
Lucy glares at both of us for another second before she groans, tossing the surfboard onto the couch with a loudthud.“Unbelievable,” she mutters, throwing her hands in the air as she storms toward the door. “And don’t even think about asking me to helpunpack!”
The second the door slams shut behind her, Jamie completely loses it, doubling over with laughter so contagious it doesn’t take long for me to join in.
Chapter 24