by Cathryn Fox
Is it possible?
The shower door slides open and all my thoughts dissipate, all except one—Jamie—and the way he looks at me. He steps inside, crowds me with his big, powerful body. He’s rough and ready—an impenetrable force. That’s my Jamie. But then there are his scars, a contradiction, and a reminder that he’s breakable like the rest of us.
He slides his hands around my shoulders and grips my neck. I gasp at the way he makes me feel so needed. Holding me tight, he bends and lightly presses his lips to mine. The kiss feels far more tender, far more personal, than any before it. I step into him until our naked bodies are touching, skin on skin, flesh on flesh. His hands slide down my back, a soft caress along my vertebrae, and I sway against him. Needy, so damn needy.
His stiff cock presses against my abdomen, and I move my body to massage him. His soft growls seep through me and twist me up inside. “Are you warming up?”
“I am now,” I say, compliments of his heat, not the hot spray, pushing back the cold and warming my bones.
He touches my shoulders and eases me away from him. His hot gaze moves down my body, an explicit caress that stops when it reaches the juncture between my legs. “I fucking love looking at you.” I swallow against the sudden dryness in my mouth, and he reaches for the soap. “Let me clean you.”
He lathers his hands and puts them on my body, his touch so gentle and caring, my heart beats triple-time. “What are your plans for the day?” he asks, like showering together and making conversation is part of our normal routine. I sway against him, the closeness I feel to him right now, this very second, completely overwhelming me.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing the baby, if Summer is up to it. Do you know if she’ll be home today?” I’d also like to take a trip into Hope Falls and drop off some of my handmade clothes to little Katrina and her mother, but I don’t bother telling him that. It’s just something I want to do for them, no strings, no glory needed. Unlike my father’s motives where charities are concerned, mine are altruistic. I just want to do something nice for a family that is struggling.
“She’ll likely be discharged today.” His soapy hands run over my shoulders and breasts, and he slides them along the underside to scrub away the sand. His fingers, big and protective, skate over my flesh, and arousal pulses through my veins. I glance at his large hands, the way they are taking care of me, making me feel so little in comparison to this massive guy. He might be lethal, but I don’t feel the least bit afraid of him.
“Is this supposed to be turning me on?” I ask on a breathless whisper.
Instead of answering, he grips my shoulders and turns me away from him. He takes my hands in his and puts them on the wall. He pushes his knee between my legs to spread them.
“Stay like this for me. I need you wide open so I can wash every inch of you,” he says, his voice deeper, harsher, like he’d just swallowed a handful of the gritty sand he’s trying to rinse from my body.
“Okay,” I say, willing to do just about anything this man wants me to, as long as he keeps touching me.
“If you want, before I start working on the deck, I can take you to Gram’s to see Summer and the baby when they get home.” He pushes my wet hair forward and it falls over my breasts, the wet strands sticking to my soaped-up nipples.
“Thanks, but I can take my own car. I have some . . . things to do.” His hands still for a second. “Plus we probably shouldn’t be seen together so much, right? We don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
“Yeah,” he says and resumes touching me—thank God—and runs his rough hands down my back and over my ass cheeks.
“But I’d like for you to be there at the same time,” I say. “All your brothers and cousins in the same place can be a bit intimidating.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of. They’d never touch you, and if anyone tried anything you didn’t like, they’d have me to deal with.”
“I take it no one messes with your girl.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I realize what I’ve said. “I mean—”
“Can you go up on your tiptoes for me, Kylee?” he asks, and his hot breath falls over me, a soft sultry caress on my skin.
I quake. Hard. And do as he asks. I go up on my toes and he drops to his knees, the hot spray hitting his back. He runs his hands over my cheeks, and then slides his fingers in between. Oh, my. His lips graze over my skin, and I whimper when he cups my cheeks and spreads them. Never in my life have I felt so exposed, open. I seize up a little and lean against the wall, away from him.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” Working diligently to relax, I suck in a breath and let it out slowly. His thumb presses into my opening and I splay my fingers on the wall and whimper, anxiety overcoming me.
“Jamie . . .” I murmured.
“You trust me, Kylee?” he asks, obviously picking up on the uncertainty in my voice.
I think about that for a moment. I do trust him. I’ve known a lot of men in my life, but I would never trust them the way I trust this man.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
“Then will you put your body in my hands? Trust that I’ll take care of it?”
My body instantly relaxes as I hand myself over to him completely. Deep down I know I’m in the right hands, know that never in a million years would he hurt me physically. Emotionally, well, that’s a different story—and the fault would be mine, not his. I know the score where Jamie is concerned.
“My body is yours, Jamie,” I whisper.
“Good, because Kylee, I have to touch you everywhere. It’s not a want, it’s a need.”
I turn to see him. His face looks harsh, tortured, and it strips me bare inside. I’ve never had a man want me the way he does. I take a breath, but it’s difficult to fill my quivering lungs.
“Take me,” I say and turn back around, my throat tight, my body humming, eager for anything and everything he’s willing to give me.
He applies gentle pressure to my opening, taking such good care of my body, and I relax into his touch. He doesn’t enter very far, just enough to let me know he’s there. I take a deep, hitching breath, surprised I don’t hate it. The truth is, I need him to touch me everywhere too.
“You feel me?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never been fucked here, have you?” he asks.
“No. I . . . I haven’t really been with a lot of men,” I admit and it seems to do something to him, bring out a softness in his touch.
He runs his palm along my back, a light, barely there caress. “I won’t hurt you, Kylee. I’d never hurt you.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to go a little deeper,” he says, and he wiggles his finger until I feel full, swollen, lush, and completely aroused. “I won’t take you here until you’re ready and begging for it.” He stills inside me, letting me get used to explicit invasion. He pulls out and gently eases back in again as his other hand curls around my body and brushes over my clit. He strokes me, deeply, and circles my clit, coming perilously close but never touching. I’m instantly on the edge, seduced by a man who can make me orgasm simply by looking at me.
“Please,” I beg and move my hips back and forth, eager for him to do something, anything. But no, he just keeps one finger in my ass and one circling my clit, like a predatory bird closing in on its prey. He chuckles again and I want to murder him for taking me high and leaving me hanging.
He removes his fingers from my body, and I want to scream. “There we go,” he says, his voice a quiet whisper. “No more sand in that hard-to-reach place. You can go back on your heels now.”
I fall back, and for a minute I wonder if her really needed me on my tiptoes or he just wanted my backside tipped up in the air for his personal viewing. I’m starting to believe he’s an ass man. I grin and store that information away for later. After all, we now have all summer to play with each other. I have a few ideas for how I can make him as crazed as he always makes me.
“Act
ually,” I say, “I think there is one more hard-to-reach place you missed.”
His chuckle curls around me as he takes his time with me, no hurry to pounce like he has in the past. His mood is different, relaxed—Jamie unwound. I like this side of him every bit as much as I like Jamie unleashed.
“Patience, Kylee,” he breathes into my ear, his hot breath sliding across the outer shell and massaging my arousal. “I never said I was finished.”
His hands span my waist as his hard cock presses against my lower back. He rocks into me, slowly, softly, like he’s savoring my body, drawing out the seduction. But I need it now, dammit.
“Jamie, please . . .” As fire licks over my thighs and a restless ache tugs at every muscle, I’m not above begging for what I need. Hard and fast is one thing, but this . . . this slow seduction, the way he’s slowly, sweetly reacquainting his hands and mouth with my body, is damn near killing me.
He turns me to face him, and his eyes are the deepest shade of green I’ve ever seen. He dips his head, brushes his mouth over my eyes, nose, cheeks, and mouth. Big hands slide down my body, and needy girl that I am, I widen my legs to let him know exactly where I need him. He runs his finger over my outer lips, and it sends a blast of heat through me.
“Yes,” I murmur.
“Is this where you need to be touched, Kylee?”
I rock into him, answering his question, and he inserts a finger. My sex muscles tremble around it and I move my hips to grind my clit against his palm. I gasp as the dual combination shuts down my ability to think with any sort of clarity.
“That feels so good.” I’m so close my body is trembling like a leaf in a windstorm. I grip his shoulders to hang on, but he pulls his fingers from me and spins me around again. His strong arms circle my waist to hold me as he gently pushes on my shoulders to bend me forward.
“Hands on the wall,” he orders softly as he repositions me.
I take deep gulping breaths and brace my hands on the wall, knowing what’s coming next and beyond excited for it. I’ve never been this soaking wet, this urgent to have a man’s hands and mouth on me—his cock inside me. He anchors my body and rubs his cock over my ass before he slowly slides it into my hot sex. One glorious inch at a time, and damned if he doesn’t have so many glorious inches to give. I stop breathing, stop moving, and he leans over me to press hot kisses to my nape.
“Breathe, Kylee,” he murmurs, and the second I suck in a breath he pushes all the way inside me.
“Oh, my God,” I say, and exhale harshly as my sex muscles clench around his long, thick length.
He pulls out and slides back in again, his rhythm slow and sweet as he takes me deeply, penetrating both my body and my soul.
Careful, Kylee.
“You feel fucking amazing,” he murmurs.
He stays still inside me, neither of us in a hurry to move or break apart. Pleasure boils the blood in my veins and I gulp. Jamie asked for a summer of sex, but this feels like so much . . . more. In fact it feels intensely real. Deeply intimate. I crane my neck to see him, and his mouth closes over mine. He kisses me with such need and passion, by the time he breaks it we’re both panting.
He inches out only to push back into me, slowly, giving me an inch at a time as his hands race over my body, pulling and tugging like he can’t get enough, can’t get me close enough. I give in to him, let him own me, take everything he needs. But Jamie isn’t a man to take without giving, and right now, he’s giving me everything he has and then some.
We rock, and my vision fades as barbed pleasure centers between my legs. He changes his angle, and his cock hits my G-spot with precision. I scratch at the tiled wall, and hiss, “Jamie,” I cry, and he reaches around me to tap my clit, bringing on an explosive orgasm. I shake, pant, quiver all over, and my knees buckle as my hands slip on the wall, but Jamie has a good grip around my waist so I don’t fall.
“Jesus fuck,” he says. “You’re so hot on my dick.” His body tenses behind me as he grips my hips for leverage and depletes himself inside me. His breath scorches my skin as he hugs me to him. His hand moves over my back, tracing my vertebrae and taunting me all over again. He grips my hair and strokes it, his ragged breath evening out, slowing down.
His throat sounds as he swallows. “You good?”
“I’m good,” I whisper, hating how much I love the way he checks in on me, that he cares about my well-being, even though this is just about sex.
“Come here.” He turns me, and I lay my head on his chest, feel his powerful heartbeat beneath my cheek. He shifts me and puts me under the warm spray. The water falls over me and feels glorious against my skin. “I didn’t miss any of those hard-to-reach places, did I?” he says, his voice full of humor.
“I believe you got all those hard-to-reach places and then some.”
He laughs, but it falls off when I trace one of his deeper scars. I glance up at him, examining the eagle-shaped scar on his jawline. “What are these scars from, Jamie?”
A dark fierceness moves into his eyes. “From a long time ago.” His jaw clenches and I get the sense I hit on something sensitive, something he has no intention of talking about. My heart hurts for him and whatever incident he found himself in that cut him so deeply, on the surface and below it.
Deciding to change the subject, I trace a few designs. “Have you ever been serious with anyone?”
“Once, a long time ago.” he says his deep, hard voice rumbling though me. “You?”
“No.” I think about telling him about Trevor, and how my dad wants me to marry him, but stop myself. I could never marry a man like that. No, if I were ever to get married—which I don’t see happening anyway—it would be to a guy who was sweet and protective, who cared about me for me, not for who my family was. Where on earth would I ever find a guy like that? I glance up at Jamie and when he smooths my hair back and drops a soft kiss onto my forehead, my heart hitches. It’s insane how that intimate kiss felt more personal than when he was inside me. I squeeze my eyes shut to harden myself. We’ve set boundaries, and I know better than to cross them.
So not an easy task with Jamie.
“How come you never put her name on your body?”
“Ink is permanent. Relationships aren’t.”
I flinch at the harshness in his voice and put my head under the hot spray as his cold words chill me. “I don’t know about that. Look at Summer and Sean. They seem pretty permanent.”
“That’s because Summer and Sean go way back. She’s one of us.”
“One of us?”
“A local. Not some out-of-towner.”
“Oh,” I say and put my face under the spray to hide the things I shouldn’t be feeling. I get it. No matter who I am or what I do, I will never be anything other than a summer vacationer, someone to have sex with, but not marriage material. I turn from Jamie, totally pissed off at myself. I’m not looking for marriage from him, anyway. I was just wondering if he ever had anyone special. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to a summer fling and should delight in the temporariness of it all. I’m not in the market for more and these stupid emotions are coming out of nowhere. Then again, they could be a reaction to his gentle lovemaking and the way he took care of me.
Lovemaking?
No, it was just sex. Amazing, mind-blowing sex. But sex nonetheless.
Chapter Eleven: Jamie
It’s mid-afternoon by the time I cut and toss the last rotten pieces of the wood into the metal garbage bin and call it quits for the day. I brush my hands on my jeans and remove my tool belt. I’m hot and sweaty and thinking about jumping into the ocean when my cell phone pings. I pull it from my back pocket and slide my hand over the screen to see a text from Sean.
We’re home.
Foregoing a swim, I hurry inside and jump in the shower. As I quickly rinse off I try not to think about all the things I did in here earlier with Kylee. Sweet Kylee, who put herself in my hands and felt so good wrapped around my cock. My dick thickens as
I think about her, but I tamp it down. I really do not need a motherfucking boner when I go to Gram’s.
Kylee said she had some errands to run and had packed a duffle bag. Shit, if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was going somewhere overnight. Then again, I don’t know better, do I? But I didn’t ask where she was going, and she didn’t supply the information. What she does in Blue Bay is her business, right? And the fact that she didn’t bother telling me shouldn’t make me feel this shitty. She has no reason to check in with me. I’m not her boyfriend. I’m her summer fuck buddy. We made that clear from the beginning.
I rinse off, towel dry, and reach into my bag for some clean clothes. I’d packed with the intention of staying at Sean’s for the week, so I could take care of Scout while they were at the hospital and then at Gram’s, but my plans had obviously changed.
I step into the main room and find Scout on her bed, her tail thumping when she sees me. “Hey, girl, want to go for a walk?”
She jumps up and her nails scratch the wood floor as she races to the door. Like I even had to ask! I follow her, grab her leash, and step back outside. We make our way to the water, and I jog slowly as she keeps close to my heels. Off in the distance, I scan the cottages lining the sand, looking for anything or anyone that might have spooked Kylee. I hate that she was afraid, but as long as she’s with me, she has nothing to fear. I’d never let any harm come to her. My gaze strays, and my stomach clenches when I hear a car door slam and see activity at the old Jackinoff cottage.
Son of a fucking bitch.
Had the place changed hands without my knowledge, or has one of the asshole brothers returned to Blue Bay? If it’s the latter, he’d better stay the fuck away from me. Nothing good could come from us running into each other. As anger prowls through my blood, I rub my jawline, trace my scar, and my feet come to a resounding halt. What if it’s not one of the asshole brothers, but my ex herself? I swallow down the bile punching into my throat. I’d hoped to never set eyes on her again, but there was a part of me that knew in returning to Blue Bay there could be a chance our paths would collide. My mind races back to my meeting with Walker at Summer’s baby shower. It seemed to me he knew something I didn’t. Could this be it?