Page 42 of Bull Riders Don't Swoon

It’s hard not to hear the disappointment in his voice and I know I screwed that up, but how was I supposed to tell him my dad was drinking himself into an early grave when the worst thing he ever had to deal with was fighting with his dad about not going into teaching? There’s no comparison.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. We can get past it, though, right?”

His eyes roam over my face for several seconds. “We will, and I’ll tell you why.” He offers me his open palm, and I slide my hand into it. “You’re the one with the degree that understands human behaviour, but I’m the one who understandsyou.You’ve saved my life, Griff—twice. You calm my squirrel brain and boost my confidence whenever I need it. Sometimes even when I don’t. You give to everyone but yourself, and for too long, I selfishly let you.”

He swallows hard and tugs me closer. “We’ll get past it because there’s always a place for you in my life. Because I love you. I always have. If you had never kissed me, I wouldn’t have known how much.” He dips his head and brushes his lips over mine. “I was perfectly happy coasting along and having fun riding bulls with my best friend at my side. But there’s always been something missing.”

A charge hovers between us, and I wonder if we were supposed to come together like this. Not when we first met, but later in life, when one of us was seeking comfort in new ways. When we’re both more mature and aren’t guzzling Red Bull to stay awake and study for exams.

Jamieson licks his lips and squeezes my thigh. “Now let me slather you with sunscreen so we can explore this beachyou’re so excited to be at.”

I toss him the sunscreen from my fanny pack and peel off my shirt as I step out into the sun. I’m woefully white, and Jamieson chuckles when he spins me around and presses his very tanned hand against my pale chest.

“It should be illegal for someone to remain this pale all summer. Don’t you ever take your shirt off at the ranch with Hunter?”

Jamieson squirts sunscreen into his hands and slides them down my chest. I can’t control the ripple of goosebumps or the way my nipples pebble under a mostly innocent touch. The bastard notices, of course, and slows his movements.

“I n-never take my shirt off because…it’s…fuck I can’t think when you do that, Jamie.”

His low chuckle has me snap my eyes to his. “Griff likes nipple play. Noted.”

His hands go back to work massaging the sunscreen in, and I stare at the tattoo on his chest. He got it last year on a whim, and it’s a hoofprint of a bull. He went back and added a bull rider on his biceps. Both of them suit Jamie, but I prefer the hoof print because bulls do stomp and mark us forever.

“If you want to return the favour and put some on me, I won’t complain.”

Jamie’s voice sounds far away as I lean closer to his chest tattoo. I must be seeing things.

My fingers trace the initials in a lighter shade of black inside the hoofprint, and Jamieson goes still.

“Is this what I think it is?” My voice cracks, and Jamieson gently takes my fingertips away and kisses them.

“Yes.”

“What does it mean to you?”

Jamie’s gaze locks on mine, and he presses my hand over the tattoo.

“When I asked Marko to add your initials to it, it was to remember that you were a part of my success as a bull rider. That you made a mark just like the bruises from bulls and to honour my best and closest friend.”

A hysterical laugh escapes my mouth as I stare at my best friend. “You tattooed my initials on you, Jamie.”

“I did, and I don’t regret it. Especially now that you’re not just my friend.”

I’ve seen this tattoo many times. We’ve changed in hotels and the camper, and I’ve seen him take his shirt off working at Hunter’s. But I never looked this closely, because that would have been especially painful. I didn’t know he added to it when he got the second tattoo, either.

“Are you upset?”

“What? No! I’m…fuck…I want to kiss you.”

His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me closer. “I like that idea.”

Our mouths meet in a clash of lips and tongue, and it’s still so odd that I get to do this now. That Jamieson wants this. Just as much as I do, if the way he’s kissing me back and holding the back of my head so I can barely take a breath is any indication.

My cock comes to life, and I press my body against his. A low hum of approval from Jamieson ignites a burn that’s been smouldering for the last ten years.

“Fuck, I want you to make me come so bad, Jamie.”

He laughs at me and holds me close.

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