Page 33 of 40 and Flirting (with Disaster)
Sixteen
“You can ride back with your brother and Chloe,” Iris assured Krista. “Their hotel is closer to your apartment than mine is, anyway.”
“Mom—”
“Come on, Kris,” Adam put in, throwing his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Let me give you a ride home.”
“I rode here with Mom,” Krista hissed at her brother.
“And you’re riding home with me.” Adam got that stubborn look on his face that he’d perfected through his teenage years. “Mom wants to hang out with Jamie a little longer, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“But—”
“Krista,” Iris interrupted, grateful for Jamie’s arm around her shoulders, lending his silent support. “I will see you in the morning. We’ve already got breakfast planned with Adam and Chloe before they leave.”
Her son and his fiancée had a cabin rented for a little getaway of their own before they headed back to Seattle. As embarrassing as it was to argue with her daughter about staying to have sex with Jamie—not that she was explicitly saying that, but after their display on the dock, she had zero doubt everyone standing here knew what was going to happen between herself and Jamie tonight—at least the breakfast in the morning gave her a reason to see her daughter within an established timeline. She hoped that would suffice.
Not likely, but Iris wasn’t giving in on this. She was an adult, and she’d made her decision.
Just the thought had her heart thumping with anticipation.
Adam was ushering his protesting sister over to his car, where he practically shoved her into the back seat. Chloe shot Iris a sympathetic look before giving her a little wave and getting into the car as well. “We’ll see you in the morning, Mom,” Adam called as he opened the driver’s side door. Iris hoped her appreciation of his interference showed in the smile she gave him. Her son shot Jamie a salute and joined the others in the car.
She didn’t move while the vehicle backed out, and gave the kids a wave as they headed down the driveway.
Finally. Her shoulders slumped in relief.
“Well,” Michael said, voice cheeky, “I’ll see you guys later.” He turned to walk off, whistling.
“Not likely!” Jamie called after his son. “And don’t come over for leftovers!”
“Jamie!”
Jamie laughed at her protest. “We have a very open relationship, trust me. And he would show up for leftovers if I didn’t warn him.” He gave her a squeeze. “I don’t want that.” He turned her in his arms to face him, ducking down until their eyes met. “I don’t want anything to interrupt me from being with you—if that’s what you’re ready for. Did I read that right?”
“Yes,” she said quietly, a blush hitting her cheeks. “Yes, you read that right.”
Jamie let out a whoop. Without warning he lifted her off her feet to whirl her around. “What are we waiting for?”
Michael’s laughter floated through the air from the door of the bunkhouse before he went inside and shut them out. Iris let a chuckle escape. “I think we were waiting for privacy, but since we have that…”
Jamie took her lips, his kiss long and sweet. When he finally released her mouth, his voice was rough with need. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
She cupped his cheek, her thumb gliding along his cheekbone. How had she managed to be gifted a chance with a man like him? “So I gather. I appreciate the patience.”
He settled her back onto her feet and ushered her toward the door. “It’s nothing less than you deserve.”
The words softened her heart, and told her everything she needed to know about trusting Jamie in this moment. Her own husband had stopped caring about what she deserved, and yet here was a man who cared enough that he had kept his own desires on hold until she was ready. The thought shouldn’t amaze her—it was basic human decency, right? She would do the same for him—but it did.
The secure clasp of Jamie’s hand grounded her as they walked down the hall toward his bedroom. She’d been here before, but tonight was different. Tonight she would take her clothes off, give herself to Jamie in this room. She was grateful he didn’t turn on the overhead light or the lamps near the bed—that might have made her feel like she had a spotlight on her. Showing Kirk her body had been easy; after all, he’d lived through all the changes time had wrought on her physical appearance along with her. Jamie hadn’t. He was seeing all of her for the first time, and though she wasn’t ashamed of her body, she also wasn’t experienced enough to have zero concerns.
She shouldn’t have. Jamie left her at the door, walked to the bathroom, turned on the lights, and closed the door halfway, giving them light to see but not so much that Iris felt self-conscious. There was enough light that the hungry look in his eyes was clear as he returned to where she stood, just inside the bedroom, and took her hand once more. Jamie walked her toward the bed. “Take off your shoes, Iris.”
She slipped her sandals off. Jamie did the same, dropping his shoes and socks onto the floor beside the bed, then scooted up to the pillows. “Come here, beautiful.”
The endearment made her smile. She crawled up the bed on hands and knees, watching Jamie watch her. Desire rose, and she gave herself over to it. When she reached Jamie, she leaned in and kissed him.
Jamie hummed with pleasure. Cupping her face, he held her to him, kissing her again, then again, as he guided her body down beside his. Lying together on the bed like this, fully clothed, reminded her of the times she and Kirk had made out as young adults, everything over the clothing until they’d been engaged, and even then they’d been careful not to go too far. She didn’t have to restrain herself with Jamie—she knew where this was leading, and she couldn’t wait.
