Page 24 of 40 and Flirting (with Disaster)
“My guest room is completely empty and available.”
Did she dare? Something about the idea of spending the night in Jamie’s house felt…odd. Maybe because she hadn’t “spent the night” with a man other than Kirk, well, ever. But he wasn’t inviting her into his bed. Fatigue pulled at her, urging her to accept, but…
Michael drove up as they arrived at their own ATV. Jamie handed Iris onto the vehicle, then turned back to his son. “You’ve got this covered?”
Michael gave his dad a much perkier grin than either she or Jamie could probably manage. “Of course. Got my nap in this afternoon just in case.”
“Good. Call me if anything comes up, all right?”
“Will do.” Michael winked at his dad. “Sleep well.”
Iris was too tired to blush, but the urge was there. Instead she buried her face behind Jamie’s back as he joined her on the ATV. Seconds later they were off and Michael’s laughter was left behind.
“Don’t mind him,” Jamie said after turning off the ATV at the house. “He might tease, but he doesn’t spread rumors.”
She hated to admit a surge of relief filled her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, even if she did choose to have sex with Jamie, but the sense that she was wouldn’t leave her. Was it because her mind still felt like she was cheating on Kirk, despite the fact that they were divorced? And despite the fact that she wasn’t sleeping with Jamie?
Lord, if she was going to feel guilty, she should just do it. At least then she’d have something to feel guilty about.
Just the thought of having Jamie touch her, of seeing him naked, exploring him, enjoying him, had her hot and bothered no matter how tired she was. As he guided her off the ATV, the firm grip of his hand translated in so many ways—how he would grip her, guide her, how his touch might firm as he became more aroused. Was he dominant in bed, or did he prefer to sit back and let her do all the work, like Kirk had? She’d tried for years to encourage Kirk to take the lead, but after frustration had her lashing out in ways she hadn’t liked, she’d decided to let it go and accept that she at least had an enjoyable sex life, if not the one she’d fantasized about. She’d been a virgin when she married Kirk, with virtually no experience, and felt she should at least be grateful that she experienced orgasm most of the time, unlike many of her friends through the years. Still, the idea that Jamie might be the kind of lover she’d always daydreamed about, the kind in the romance novels she loved to read between the “literature” and nonfiction she also devoured, had her mind racing ninety to nothing in the dim light of his home.
Jamie led her down the hall they’d used earlier tonight, stopping at a large closet to gather towels and washcloth. “You can shower in the morning if you like. Save you time when you get home.” He opened the door on the opposite side of the hall from his bedroom. “Marylin keeps things stocked and fresh, so I know the linens have been washed and the bathroom will have anything you might need.”
Thank goodness, because the idea of making a bed at this time of night had her wanting to whimper. She hated making beds. Seemed silly, but all that pulling and tugging and finagling drove her crazy. She’d never admit it to anyone else, but in the past few months she’d occasionally curled up with a blanket, the pile of freshly washed sheets next to her, left to be put in place the next day.
“I appreciate this, Jamie.”
He set the towels on the neatly made bed, but Iris had little time to notice and appreciate the cream-colored comforter set with its hand-stitched embroidery before Jamie gathered her into his arms. It seemed completely natural to relax against him, to let his hard chest pillow her breasts, allow his firm arms to bring her close, aligning their bodies in ways that woke her up instead of the opposite. And then Jamie whispered hoarsely in her ear.
“Thank you for staying, Iris. It meant so much to me to have you here, to share this with you.”
The rough emotion filling his voice left no doubt that he meant what he’d said. But why? Why did having her here mean so much? What drew this man to her? Why would he want her when she’d made it abundantly clear she wasn’t ready, might never be ready to risk her heart again?
What if your heart wasn’t at risk? You don’t have to risk anything just for sex. To be held for one night. To not be alone for a little while.
She drew back the slightest bit, just enough to look Jamie in the eye. What she saw there had the heat inside her flaming higher. Without thought, she leaned in, wanting to taste the fire she read so clearly in his eyes.
His lips were warm, somehow familiar by now—and hard. Jamie didn’t passively receive her kiss; no, he went after her tongue immediately, delving inside, tangling his tongue with hers as if he couldn’t wait to taste her.
She responded without hesitation.
All thought, all concern left her as she surrendered to Jamie’s touch. She knew now, without doubt, that his hands did indeed touch her dominantly when he was aroused. That his grip did become tighter. That he went after what he wanted with confidence, not a single hint of uncertainty. That he groaned when she slid her palms up the muscles that bordered his spine, and quivered when she reversed direction, stopping just shy of the firm globes of his rear.
God, she wanted her hands there. She didn’t dare, but she did want. Her fingers itched to grip him and drag him closer.
She settled for splaying her hands in the small of his back, warming him even as the roaming of his hands warmed her. Her nipples tight when his fingers brushed close, his hands closing on her biceps, his fingertips just grazing the sides of her breasts. When she arched against him, her mouth opening on a gasp, he did it again. And again.
When he grazed the tips of her breasts, she couldn’t help it—she went rigid, and not with desire. With shock.
What was she doing? Was she prepared to have sex with him? That one touch brought full awareness to her mind—the direction they were heading, the overwhelming desire to let it happen, and the realization of exactly what she would be opening herself up to if they did.
A relationship. With Jamie. Because despite what she might tell herself, she knew there was no way she could take this step and have it be anything but casual. She couldn’t divorce herself from the man she was making love to; if she hadn’t known that before, she knew it now without doubt. Could she accept that and walk away whole?
No.
Jamie must have felt the change in her body, because he paused. “Is this okay?”
His words…God, the sound of that rough need in his voice made her ache to keep going. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t ready. Unable to speak, she shook her head.
