“Your tits. There’s no likin’ there. Been obsessed with ’em ever since you flashed me that day. Like how your hair smells and whatever that shit is you put on your skin. Smellin’ like you took sugar and rubbed it all over yourself, wantin’ me to lick it off. Pretty sure I do that every time we’re together. You got the hottest, tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked. Sweetest, too. Like how you take me and how you watch me while I’m givin’ it, lookin’ like you can’t believe this shit could feel this good, but it does. Every damn time. And it ain’t just ’cause we’re fuckin’ but ’cause it’s us fuckin’, you and me. Like how you quit thinkin’ on occasion and give me shit you don’t realize you’re givin’. I like your smile. Like when I gotta work for it and when I don’t. Like the way you look at me, even when you’re pissy and mad at me for somethin’ ’cause you’re still lookin’, babe, and havin’ your attention when you could be givin’ it to some other guy makes me feel like a fucking king. Fuck.” He exhaled heavily. “I could keep goin’, Legs. Could keep it up for hours. Fact is, I like you. I like you a whole fuckin’ lot. You wanna give me the hours to list, I’ll do that. You feel like what I just gave you is enough to go by for now, we’ll stop and get to eatin’, but either way, I need to hit Pause so I can go get cleaned up. This shit is startin’ to leak out and I’m thinkin’ a jizz stain isn’t somethin’ you’re gonna like, even though my cock is perfect and you’re feelin’ that.”

Jamie pulled back gently on my neck when he finished speaking.

My entire body tensed and I pressed down, pushing my weight into him and keeping my face buried.

I felt his head turn. His hand slid down to my back, pressing between my shoulder blades. “Babe,” he prompted.

“Just give me a second,” I requested, keeping my voice quiet so he couldn’t hear how scared I sounded, but I was sure he could hear the frenzied beating of my heart. I was certain he could feel it, too.

My heart was always honest, even when I wasn’t.

Jamie breathed deep. His hand on my bottom slid to the small of my back and the one between my shoulder blades moved higher, cupping the back of my head this time.

“Like this, too, babe,” he shared, his voice almost sweet.

I closed my eyes. God. What was more dangerous? The heartbreaker or the breath-stealer. Player Jamie or the man who let me touch him like he was mine.

I didn’t know.

Mind heavy, I inhaled the September sun that kissed his neck, filling my lungs with it. We stayed like that for another thirty seconds, maybe a minute, then I pushed up and slid off Jamie while he kept hold of the condom, taking longer than usual to dismount since my pants were now partially hanging off me and causing awkward, wooden movements.

“I’m gonna go put on something,” I said, looking down at myself after getting to my feet.

I looked like a crime scene.

“Usin’ the bathroom down here. I’ll heat up the food.” Jamie bent and pressed a kiss to the top of my head before he moved past me, heading for the powder room below the stairs with his shorts hanging low on his hips and his shirt still off.

It hung on the back of my couch.

To prevent any tripping catastrophes, I shimmied out of my ripped leggings where I stood, balling them up in my hand, then I took to the stairs naked, tossing my pants into the bathroom garbage before using the toilet.

I hummed song lyrics while tapping my knees, and while I washed my hands and finger-combed my hair, breaking up the tangles in the ends, I kept my mind busy by mentally organizing my red lipstick collection, starting with most used to special occasion/costume looks.

Basically, I was avoiding all thoughts of what Jamie had just confessed.

After finishing up, I went to my bedroom and dressed in a muddied blue T-shirt tunic with a stretched neckline. I kept it color-coordinated and stuck with blue hipster briefs, no bra. And after I was finished dressing, I spun around and studied my ass over my shoulder in the mirror above my dresser.

I shimmied my hips. I bounced on my heels.

My mind was on that sweet old lady I served today the entire time I was dressing and checking my big ass out in the mirror. I wondered if she ever finished the cross-stitch she was working on while eating her tuna salad on wheat.

That seemed to keep Jamie’s words from circling in my head and threatening to wrap tight around my heart.

It was a danger I had to stay constantly aware of lately. And the more time we spent together, the more trouble I was having staying constantly aware.

As I descended the stairs, the amazing aroma of freshly heated Bangkok Orchid filled my living space, and the only thing I started thinking about was eating and possible negotiation tactics if Jamie decided he liked the pineapple fried rice and wanted the second container for himself.

“You get drinks?” I called out when I finished descending, readying to turn toward the kitchen since I was figuring he had himself covered but I was going to need to grab something.

Sitting on the couch and facing forward, Jamie held up a bottle of the Extra Sweet Pure Leaf Tea I typically kept my fridge stocked with but was currently out of, meaning he must’ve noticed I was running low yesterday and came prepared just in case.

Huh. That was nice. And thoughtful. And kind of sweet.

And by kind of, I meant really sweet.

Shit.

I focused on the smell of the food again and how hungry I was instead of letting meaningful gestures take root inside me. I had to stay smart about this.

“You got somethin’ in mind you wanna watch while we eat?” Jamie asked as I moved around the couch and took my seat on the cushion I typically sat on, keeping space between us since he was sitting on the other end.

“Something with a lot of action. Like a war documentary.” I twisted the cap off my sweet tea and took a sip. “News would be good, too.”

No romantic storylines there.

Jamie chuckled. “Not really feelin’ either of those, but there’s a game on. Yankees are playin’ the Royals.”

“Perfect.”

Sports. Yes. That was a safe choice.

I sat on the edge of the couch and peered into the open containers littering my coffee table while Jamie cued up the TV.

“I think you got one of everything,” I observed, pulling back the flap on the ginger and mushroom.

“Didn’t know what you liked. Figured I’d cover my bases.”

“Oo, spring rolls.” I licked my lips and started untwisting the end of the bag containing one of my favorite appetizers from Bangkok Orchid.

Jamie was chuckling again beside me. It sounded warm and beautiful somehow, though I wasn’t sure how a laugh could sound beautiful; still, it did, and I thought about how good he probably looked laughing the way he was, so I turned my head, tucked my hair behind my ear, and gazed in his direction, really looking at him for the first time since I came down the stairs.

I was too busy eyeing the food when I took my seat on the couch to do any looking in his direction, and boy, did I miss a spectacular sight.

Jamie was sitting with his elbows on his knees and body angled forward, still shirtless, meaning all his tanned, glorious muscles were showing and flexed since he was bracing weight. And although that in itself was an eyeful one would have serious difficulty looking away from, that was only part of the package I was labeling as spectacular.