9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

BOTTEGA VENETA

Nora

J amie and I were sitting in the back of his car. His driver had picked us up from the airport.

Our luggage was wedged in the trunk, and we were headed to my apartment.

I was hoping this wouldn’t be just his first stop, but his only one.

I was also gearing myself up to make certain it was, by inviting him up for the evening if I found it wasn’t.

I had no idea why I was hesitant about that. I’d never had an issue with sharing my desires.

It was just now that the time was nigh (very, very nigh), I felt timid about it.

One of the vagaries of being a woman, or perhaps being human, that I wasn’t fond of.

It was mid-evening New York time, early for us in the time zone our bodies were accustomed to.

So truly, there were no longer any reasons why we couldn’t fully embrace the change to our relationship at my apartment.

The last several days with Chloe, Judge and JT had been fabulous, but Jamie and I had lives to get back to, and that family had to get used to being a family without a whole host of loved ones trooping through all day.

This meant our parting was bittersweet, at the same time necessary.

Jamie was currently on his phone, scrolling through his email.

I was on mine, scrolling through my schedule.

My eyes caught on something, and I turned fully to him.

“Darling, can I assume we’ll be back to regularly scheduled programming now that the parent trap was successful?”

Jamie turned fully to me, a handsome smile on his lips, his hand reaching out to capture mine.

One thing I noticed of late that was delightful and tortuous (both for obvious reasons) was that Jamie was an exceptionally affectionate man. He held hands. He snuggled. He cuddled. There was close contact when sleeping. Hell, I couldn’t even walk past him and be in reaching distance without him touching me, even if it was only to trace his finger along the back of my hand as I passed.

In other words, for the last couple of days, the tortuous had beaten out the delightful.

He’d been gentlemanly before, guiding me by a touch at the small of my back, standing beside me with his arm curled around my waist.

But this was very different.

And very gorgeous.

And very much—too much—to handle when I was cut off from all the rest.

“Are you talking about the store opening we agreed to go to this Saturday?” he asked.

Hale and Elsa had some friends who had a store where they sold furniture they refinished. They’d been able to grab the lease on the space next door to expand their business to include selling vintage stoneware, china, glassware and home décor. And Saturday was their grand opening.

Jamie and I had agreed to go together before we had our little—shall we say—hiccup.

I sensed I knew his answer, but I also needed him to confirm.

“Yes,” Jamie stated (indeed, that was the answer I’d sensed). “We’re back to regularly scheduled programming. We’re dining with Mika and Tom, Hale and Elsa before we go, correct?”

I nodded, not quite able to process the relief that we had that back, along with all the rest.

Jamie lifted my hand, kissed my knuckles, then rested our hands on his thigh before he went back to his phone.

I looked out my window.

The sun was setting. There were sirens in the distance. People were strolling the streets, one of them was a man who had what appeared to be a very fluffy, and not at all small, husky dog bouncing in a pack on his back. He was emerging from the stairs to a subway terminal.

A driver in a car close by suddenly hit his horn and didn’t feel like taking his hand away, the shrill sound splitting the air then continuing to rend it.

Ah, New York.

It was lovely to be home.

Not long later, we slid to a halt outside my building, and neither of us moved until the driver opened my door.

I alighted, and when Jamie did as well, I felt great hope.

And then he murmured, “Thanks, Vincent,” before he looked between Vincent and Arnold, my doorman, and ordered, “All the bags.”

All the bags .

Including his.

As the hope burst into reality, a thrill raced up my spine (and in another secret place as well).

Jamie put a hand to the small of my back and guided me into the lobby.

As Jamie led us to the elevators, I smiled at Charlene behind the concierge desk, and I knew how bright it was by the way she blinked in surprise at me.

I’d always been friendly to the staff. Mother had taught me so.

“They are, in a sense, family, my dear,” she’d said. “They share our homes and lives. Of course, they’re paid to do so. But a home is a home, and no matter why you’re in it, if you are on a regular basis, you should always understand you’re welcome there.”

In other words, it wasn’t like I’d never smiled at Charlene.

I’d just never smiled that brightly at her.

We made the bays, and Jamie tagged the button.

I dug my keys out of my Bottega Veneta clutch and handed them to him.

Therefore, when we entered the elevator, he touched my fob to the reader and hit the button for my floor.

“Your bag?” I murmured.

“I’ll need to leave some things here,” he said. “Might as well leave the things already packed.”

I felt my lips curl up.

I knew how fiendishly smug my smile was, and I could not care less.

We were let out on my floor to see the usual table across us that held two vases of bright, fresh flowers, this sitting below a striking abstract painting, and, hand returning to my back, Jamie directed me to one of the two sets of double doors situated on either side of the table.

The set on the left.

Charlene had called my housekeeper, Alyona, I knew, because we were still a few feet from my door when she opened it.

“Welcome back,” she greeted through a smile.

“Lovely to be back,” I replied, going to her and touching cheeks before I swept in.

“Congratulations, Mister Jamie,” I heard her say behind me.

“Thank you, Alyona.”

“Miss Nora texted pictures, he’s adorable,” Alyona told Jamie.

“He’s a lot more than that,” he replied proudly.

I moved into the living room and tossed my clutch on one of the sofas.

Jamie moved directly to the bar cart.

Alyona followed us but stopped just inside the entryway to the room.

She was a live-in. And salaried. And I’d been away for nine days, most of which (not including that day, obviously) I’d given her off to have her own holiday.

Even so, I didn’t like to take advantage of her hours, and seeing as it was on the wrong side of 7:30, she needed to be off duty.

She knew my penchants with that, so she followed us and said, “I’ve prepared some sandwiches, there are chips, and I got that chocolate cream torte you like, Mister Jamie.”

Hmm.

Seemed Alyona might be prone to matchmaking too.

“You spoil me,” he said to her, and after she smiled at him, he asked me, “Martini, sweetheart?”

“Please,” I replied.

He went back to Alyona. “I’ll have a bag coming up too.”

Alyona’s eyes widened and grew happy, and she looked at me.

My smug smile returned.

“For tonight, you can unpack just the essentials, dear,” I told her. “Then you’re off. Thank you for waiting for us to return.”

“Always,” she said, directed a large, happy grin to me, then she left to go to the service elevator in order to direct the arrival of our luggage.

I sat down next to my purse, flicked off my pumps and curled my legs under me.

Jamie made my martini, his bourbon, and he walked my drink to me.

I took it and murmured, “Thank you, darling.”

He stayed standing and sipped his drink before he said, “I’m going to call Judge and Dru, let them know we got back all right, and make sure everything is good with both of them.”

He’d been making a concerted effort not to be overpowering, but definitely to make certain his daughter remained well aware of her place, at the same time keeping his finger on his son’s pulse, not only because he was a new dad, but how that came about.

Thus, I understood his need to do this, and nodded.

Jamie bent and kissed my cheek before he walked away, taking out his phone.

I grabbed my clutch to get my own.

I then sent a group text to my children.

I’m home. Talk among yourselves to find a time, and one of you handle setting up that computer thing so we can all catch up. Kisses, Mother

I immediately got from Allegra, For the last time, Mom, you don’t have to sign off texts .

My lips were again curled when I fired off, The death of manners is the death of civilization as we know it .

As I was hitting send on that, I got from Nico, It’s called Zoom, Ma. Or Skype .

Out of habit, I shivered in revulsion.

I loved to hate my son calling me Ma . It was hideous. He just simply refused to be broken of the habit.

Though, if I was truly honest with myself (which, heavens, about this, I was not ), I really hated that I loved it.

I prefer Skype , Allegra replied.

Valentina entered the conversation. We don’t need a Skype for you to tell us you’ve FINALLY made it official with Jamie .

Oh dear.

That, I knew, could be blamed on Cadence. My last and Mika’s only were thick as thieves and just as diabolical.

Wait. WHAT!?!?! That was from Allegra.

About fucking time . That was from Nico.

Right? And that was from Valentina.

Language, Nico . That was me.

So I guess that boat thing wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Yeah, Ma? Again Nico.

It was the new baby. Babies make everyone feel lovey. And that was Allegra, which gave me pause, considering she’d been married for several years now, and it was all fine and lovely that Jamie was a grandfather. He was tall and straight and built and virile (I hoped), and his hair had miraculously only silvered just a little.

But I was not ready.

I’ll tell you about it in the Skype . I cut in. And then I sent, Follow directions. Decide among yourselves when, tell me, and I’ll be there .

Love you, Mom, and so happy for you and Jamie . Allegra.

What she said . Valentina.

Later, Ma . Nico.

I sipped my martini and sent more texts, one to Mika, telling her Jamie and I were safely back in the city, and one to Teddy, informing him of my return, and I was ready when he was to begin to make plans.

Jamie returned shortly after I received Teddy’s response of, More soon, my dearest .

But instead of coming to me, he went to the window and looked out at the city.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

He turned to me, and every molecule in my body stopped moving when I saw the look on his face.

It appeared he was very much still on Arizona time and thus, not at all tired.

On no, he was not.

Not at all.

His gaze moved over me curled in my couch before it came back to my face.

“Everything’s perfect,” he said, his deep voice thick.

Through a mouth that was suddenly dry, I inquired, “Why are you all the way over there, darling?”

“Because Alyona hasn’t retired to her rooms yet.”

I pressed my lips together.

“And I’m struggling with the urge to ravish you on the couch, something that would not only be rude to Alyona, but the first time I sink into you is not going to be on your couch,” he concluded.

Oh my.

I swallowed, and my nipples tingled.

“Goodnight, Miss Nora and Mister Jamie,” Alyona, with excellent timing, called from the back hall.

“Goodnight,” I returned, my voice sounding choked.

“Are you hungry?” Jamie queried.

I was. The food on the plane wasn’t appealing, so I’d only eaten the roll and the salad.

“Peckish,” I answered.

“Can you wait?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Right then, sweetheart, I suggest you make your way to the bedroom, because if you don’t, in about three seconds, I’m going to carry you there.”

I needed no further coaxing.

I stood.

But I didn’t go to the bedroom.

I went to Jamie.

His eyes flared.

I took his hand.

At that, his eyes warmed.

And I guided him to my bedroom.

Alyona had left the lights on at the nightstands.

I led Jamie to one, put my martini glass on it, took his drink and set it beside mine.

My heart hammering, my legs feeling like jelly, I took him in, wearing his dandelion yellow, polo necked, long-sleeved, lightweight sweater and off-white trousers. Drinking it all in all at once. His careless but sophisticated style. His height. The breadth of his shoulders. His elegant clothing woefully inadequate at disguising his rugged masculinity. All of that, for the first glorious time, invading the ultra-feminine whites, creams, golds and powder blues of my bedroom.

All of it making my belly flutter and areas south grow wet.

I felt like a sixteen-year-old girl who’d caught the attention of her greatest crush.

And it was a beautiful feeling.

“I love you,” I whispered.

In an instant, his eyes dilated fully.

Then he was kissing me.

Straightaway, I discovered our first wasn’t a fluke. It wasn’t two adults who had been starved for touch finally getting what they’d been craving and taking advantage of that fact.

Oh no.

It wasn’t.

It was about two people deeply in love who’d denied themselves and each other the intimacy they needed to seal the silken steel bonds they’d been creating.

Jamie’s arms closed tight around me, his tongue swept into my mouth, and he fed, not like a man famished, but like a king claiming a feast as his due.

It was so Jamie.

It was also delicious .

I clutched him to me, sliding my fingers into his soft hair, and he leaned into me until we were falling back to the bed.

His weight hit mine, and taking it, I caught fire.

Quite simply, from that point on, my actions were no longer my own.

They were a craven need to have him, all of him .

A need I couldn’t, and didn’t, deny.

I touched him, stroked him, pulled desperately at his clothes.

He arched away to yank off the polo.

Confronted by his wide, furred chest that was now mine to do with as I wished, I went right in to taste his corded throat, trail my lips along his bulging pectoral.

As I did, Jamie worked at my blouse. He then rolled to his back, taking me on top, and sat us both up, me straddling him. It was then the heady sensations of want and triumph assailed me at feeling his hardness strain against me through his trousers.

He pulled the blouse down my shoulders and tossed it away, right before he went in, his lips closing over silk around the tight nub of my nipple…

And drawing deep.

So…very… deep .

I whimpered and arched into the sensations, into Jamie.

Jamie.

In my bed.

In my life.

Soon to be in me.

At what I was thinking, feeling, I fisted my hands in his hair, and he growled animalistically, and as such delightfully, when I pulled his head back and claimed his beautiful mouth.

I was so lost in my feelings for him, in what he was doing to my body, what I could finally do to his, all we were sharing, I wasn’t close to cognizant of any of our fierce, blistering, uncontrollable acts. The strokes. The nips. The scratches. The draws. The violently desperate disposal of clothing.

The ruthless kisses (Jamie’s).

The intoxicating licks (mine).

The ravenous bites (both of ours).

Though I did come to when Jamie positioned me on my back, pushed my thighs apart, then sunk between them, and his mouth clamped on me.

Good Lord .

I cupped a hand on his head as he laved, moaning, “Honey.”

“Precisely,” he grunted into my flesh, a wave of heat scorching over me at his word, the feel of it, even if I didn’t know if he was claiming that endearment for himself, or describing what he was tasting.

I had no more thoughts as he suckled and licked and eventually slid a finger inside, after a few strokes, making it two. He managed to make the act of going down on me voracious and gentle, loving and selfish, arrogant and generous, commanding and sweet.

It was heaven .

I was writhing under his ministrations, the fire building, blazing, consuming me beyond control.

“ Jamie ,” I gasped my warning.

He didn’t heed it. He sucked hard at my clit and thrust deep with his fingers, my entire body tensed, and then, I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t wait for him, I exploded, flew apart…

Combusted .

I was still climaxing, so I vaguely felt his mouth and fingers retreat, but it wasn’t vague in the slightest when I felt his cock invade.

The first stroke was sure, swift, commanding.

The king, indeed, was claiming his due.

I moaned at the feel, the stretch, the need to accommodate his size and circled him with both arms and legs.

He then did what he’d been doing from the start.

He made love to me at the same time he was fucking me.

I opened my eyes and saw only him, his rugged features having turned savage in the sex act.

He was just…

Extraordinary .

“Harder,” I whispered.

Jamie obliged.

“Faster,” I breathed.

Jamie drilled into me.

God, I’d feel fucked for the next week with how brutal he was taking me.

I adored it .

To communicate that, I raked my nails up his back until I could fist my hand in his hair while I clamped the other to the tight curve of his clenching and releasing ass.

“Again,” he growled his order.

He wanted me to climax again ?

“I—”

He cut off what I was going to say by dipping in and nipping my lower lip sharply.

I tasted him and me in the enchanting, vicious bite, so I tightened around him everywhere .

He grunted at the feel and released my lip.

“Again, Nora,” he demanded.

“Baby,” I rasped.

Even though I wouldn’t have imagined it was humanly possible, he drove in harder, faster, deeper , grunting, “ Again .”

The orgasm rising and cresting in a second, clamping onto him with all four limbs (and other places as well), I did as told and came again.

“Yes,” he bit out then shoved his face in my neck, and I heard his deep groan while he hammered inside me, filling me with his seed.

Languidly, his thrusts slowed until he slid in to the root, and I felt his lips trail up my neck to below my ear, where he teased, “You don’t sound like an uptight society maven when you come.”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and fought smiling.

But my lips huffed, “I’m far from uptight .”

He lifted his head, looked down at me, and honest to God, it took everything in my power not to burst into tears at what I saw.

It wasn’t simply his usual handsomeness made more so (much, much more) from sex and satisfaction.

It wasn’t the natural magnetism and constant hum of energy that always exuded from him either.

It was the happiness he showed without hiding it in the slightest, which overlaid a deeper contentment that seemed so settled, anyone who didn’t know him would think it had always been there.

When it absolutely had not.

I’d given him that.

Me.

So yes, it took everything I had not to cry.

Instead, I rested my hand on his cheek.

He turned his head and kissed my palm.

I really, very much, and very deeply, and very delightfully loved this man .

He looked back at me.

He then kept teasing, “You sound like a wanton hussy.”

I gasped in (false) affront.

“It’s exquisitely hot,” he went on. “When you climaxed in my mouth, I thought I was going to come all over your satin comforter.”

“Don’t be vulgar, Jameson,” I admonished. I then educated, “And the comforter is the fluffy one, folded at the end. Under us is a coverlet .”

He grinned, white and wide, and muttered, “Right.”

“You’re not going to remember that, are you?”

“No, and not only because I don’t care what it’s called, but because you’ll be there to remind me.”

Oh dear.

I had to stop myself from crying again.

He slid out but immediately glided his hand over my hip and in between us to cup me tenderly.

Oh, wow .

What a lovely thing to do.

“Jamie,” I whispered.

“You okay here?” he whispered back.

“Yes,” I told him.

“I went hard.”

“I know, I was there. And if you’ll remember, I asked for that.”

His lips curved. “Totally a wanton hussy.”

I turned my head away to pretend he was annoying me.

“Nora,” he called.

I turned my head back.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Oh no!

The tears came before I could even begin to try to stop them.

Jamie rolled us to our sides and held me close as I wept into his throat.

Abruptly, his arms tightened, and he ground out, “Fuck, I’m such a goddamned idiot for putting you through what I did.”

My tears stuttered to a halt as I pulled my face out of his throat to look up at him.

“You are not,” I retorted.

“Baby, look at the state of you.”

“These are happy tears.”

“Tears you wouldn’t have cried if I’d fucked you after that first thing we went to together, which was when I wanted to do it, but I wouldn’t admit to myself how much I wanted it.”

I loved to know that was when he wanted it, because that was when I wanted it too.

But we couldn’t dwell on that.

“Well, you didn’t do it then,” I stated emphatically. “You did it just now. And I don’t remember complaining.”

“You burst into tears,” he pointed out. “That’s pretty much the definition of a complaint.”

“I did so because, like I said, I’m happy . You make me happy Jameson Oakley. So stop ruining it.”

His lips twitched. “All right, sweetheart.”

“Don’t ever refer to yourself as an idiot again,” I commanded.

“Order received.”

“Now, while I clean up and put on an entrancing nightgown that will make you want to attack me again, as penance, you have to go get the sandwiches. Oh, and refresh my martini.”

He rolled me to my back, with him rolling his weight onto me, before he put his face close to mine and warned in an utterly scrumptious rough, deep tone, “I’m going to let you be bossy in this bed this once, darlin’. I suggest you don’t get used to it.”

I trembled beneath him.

He rewarded me with that roguish grin he’d given me the morning after we’d gone to Arizona, but this time it was better.

Because this time it disappeared because he was kissing me.

Oh yes.

Much better.