Page 64 of Home in Nevada

I glance up at him, a mischievous grin spreading across my face as I slowly start unzipping his expensive pants. Jamie’s eyes widen, and before I can get far, his hands wrap around mine, stopping me in my tracks.

"Jeff, I have to go to work," he says, his tone somewhere between exasperated and amused.

I sneer, just to keep him on his toes. "Why?"

Jamie shakes his head, laughing softly. "Because I have bills to pay, genius."

"Call in sick," I shoot back, undeterred.

"My job doesn’t work like that," he teases, patting my head like I’m a bratty kid. "And I can’t be late, either."

I raise an eyebrow. "Aren’t you the boss? Who the hell gets paid more to care if you’re late?"

This time, Jamie laughs louder, the kind of laugh that lights up his face and makes my chest ache in the best way. "Jeff, that’s not how any of this works."

I lean back on my elbows, smirking. "Is ‘casino manager’ just code for something else? Like… are you secretly a high-class escort?"

Jamie lets out a startled laugh, smacking my shoulder lightly before leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of my head. "No, you idiot. I have a boss. And he works in the same building."

I heave a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed as I watch him finish getting ready. His tie, his jacket, those ridiculously well-fitted dress pants—goddamn. Every piece falls into place like he was made for it, the whole look polished and unfairly perfect. And the worst part? I can’t have it.

A pang settles in my chest as I realize this—him, us, this moment—all of it will just be a memory in a few days when we go back to long distance. The thought stings more than I’d like to admit. But for now, I’m going to soak up every second I can, imprint every detail into my mind. Even if it means letting Jamie go to work in an outfit I’d rather tear off him right here and now.

As Jamie’s hips start to leave my line of sight, I grab them and pull him back toward me, unbuttoning his pants. I kiss the soft skin above the waistband of his underwear, letting my tongue glide against him. He smells so good… Like, ridiculously good. I need to figure out what that soap is.

I feel him tremble, just slightly, but he doesn’t stop me. Smiling, I look up at him and go lower, teasing my tongue along the front of his underwear while I grab two handfuls of his ass, pulling his heat closer to my mouth. He moans, bucking into me, already getting hard through the thin fabric.

I don’t want to make him late, but damn if I’m not tempted to pull him into bed.

"Mmmm," I hum against him, my hands roaming slowly over his backside. "I’m so sorry you have to leave…"

Jamie threads his fingers through my hair, gripping tightly, and I bite back a grin. He’s so easy to read—the way his body reacts, the telltale wet spot on his underwear practically begging for my tongue. Messing with Jamie like this isthe best.

But just as he's savoring the moment, I pull back, leaning back on my hands to let him go.

"...What are you doing? Hurry up," Jamie says, his voice soft but serious.

Wait. Is he for real?

"Hurry up, dude," he repeats, his tone lighter this time, a small smile tugging at his lips as he runs his fingers through his hair. "I’m not running late for nothing."

Before I can even think of a response, he’s reaching out, grabbing the front of my shirt, and pulling me back toward him. There’s no mistaking the fire in his eyes now, and my heart pounds hard enough to drown out everything else.

I can’t help but grin as I grab his hips, pulling him closer, rougher than before. My fingers dig into his skin just enough to make him shiver, his breath hitching in the quiet of the room.

Without another second to lose, I tug the rest of his pants and underwear down in one swift motion and take him into my mouth. The heat of him sends a jolt through me, my pulse racing as his grip tightens in my hair, anchoring me like he doesn’t want me to stop—like he couldn’t even if he tried.

When my tongue drags over the spots I know drive him wild, the slow, unrestrained groan he lets out almost makes me unravel. It’s raw, unguarded, and it fuels something deep in me, pushing me to give him exactly what he needs.

This has become one of my favorite things—not that I’d ever admit it. The way Jamie moves, the way he jerks and throbs under my touch, the taste of him on my tongue, the sounds he makes… it’s intoxicating. It’s like I’ve unlocked a side of him that no one else gets to see, and in these moments, I feel like I have complete control over him. A rare reversal, considering he’s usually the one calling the shots in the bedroom.

When I hear him whisper my name, I go faster, taking him in deeper. His hands stay tangled in my hair, pulling lightly, guiding me. When he starts to move too fast, I pull back to catch my breath, dragging my tongue against him, licking all the way down. Jamie falls to his knees, hitting the edge of the bed, and pushes me onto my back across the mattress.

I grin, watching as he strips off his pants and tosses them onto a nearby chair. Grabbing his tie, I pull him down to kiss me, my hands sliding over his body. Jamie kisses me once more near my jaw before straddling my face, pressing himself to my lips. I take him back into my mouth, gripping his bare thighs as he trembles, moving faster.

When his rhythm falters, I slide my hands lower, teasing between his legs. To my surprise, his hand grabs mine, guiding me without hesitation, forcing a finger straight into him.

"Fuck! Don’t stop…" Jamie’s voice is ragged as he falls back onto both hands, bracing himself against the mattress. As always, I follow his directions without question, my movements steady, deliberate. His breath hitches, his thighs trembling hard as I push him closer to the edge.

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