Chapter 26: Jamie

26

JAMIE

C osy and warm, I burrow further into the soft cushions and breathe deep. These sheets smell amazing.

While my brain feels foggy, my entire body feels languid and relaxed, and for a moment, I forget what it was like sleeping in cheap motels or out in the forest. I could really get used to the trappings of life within a pack.

My mind only registers why Dean’s scent is so strong when I wriggle, shifting position, and something long and hard pokes the back of my hip. Dean lets out a sleepy sigh, his chest rising and falling against my spine.

His skin is warm and silky, and my body is on fire where we touch. Which is everywhere.

I freeze, swallowing hard as Dean’s hand, the one resting possessively on my naked belly slides lower, cupping my sex like he owns my body, before yanking me back against the wall of heat behind me.

Dean’s hand. My pussy. His cock. My ass.

Gasping, I jerk my hips forward, and his hand moves back to my hip, resting there casually like nothing just happened. When I go to tug the covers over my waist up higher, a throbbing pain radiates from my shoulder, down to my elbow.

“Ow!” I yelp, immediately dropping the sheet and cradling my sore arm with my good one.

Dean’s voice, thick with sleep, rumbles right next to my ear. “Try not to move it, Jamie. It’s going to be sore for a while.”

Goosebumps appear down my arms as his gravelly timbre has my insides fluttering, that and the possessive way he just grabbed my pussy.

“Are you cold?” he mumbles, his voice deep and sinful, and liquid heat pools between my thighs. He could say the alphabet in that husky voice, and I’d love it.

His palm slides gently over my exposed arm, and when he feels the goosebumps on my skin, he curses, pulling the blanket up higher around me. Little does he know, I’m shivering for a different reason, nothing to do with the temperature of the air.

My eyes slide closed as I will my body not to react to his. It’s impossible, though. All I can focus on is the something very thick, very long, and very hard that rests between us, heavy against my lower back.

“Ignore that.”

How am I supposed to ignore that? Men can pass off a bit of morning wood without anyone reading too much into it, but the wetness pooling between my thighs will be harder to explain. And the combination of his musky, masculine scent, his muscular body wrapped around mine and the way he holds me so close, is sending my senses haywire.

This is what being held by a man should feel like.

I try to squirm away and put some distance between us, to clear my head, but his hold on me remains iron. I’m not going anywhere. My wolf is delighted with the situation, but I feel like I’ve missed something, and my brain is scrambling to catch up.

“You need to stay warm.” Every word sends vibrations through his chest, into my back, and I close my eyes against the heavenly feeling.

“I am warm, I’m on fire,” I say, my voice coming out in a squeak, betraying just how much I’m enjoying his presence, and the way his hand keeps sweeping up and down my upper arm.

And it’s tempting to just run with whatever this is. Especially when he seems to be enjoying our clinch just as much as I am.

Fuck, he’s big. Thick, long and very, very hard.

All I can think of is reaching back and taking him in my hand. Maybe slipping him between my thighs, parting my legs ever so slightly, and letting him slide into my warm entrance. It would be that easy. I’m already wet. My wolf is practically begging me to ask the massive alpha to take us. To see what it would feel like to be owned by a man like him, even if it’s just this once.

But I know if I give in and then he casts me aside, it’ll break me.

Before I arrived here, I thought Dean Reynolds was the enemy. For all I know, he killed my mother when he killed his father, and he’s going to take what he wants from me now, before throwing me out.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I that lonely and desperate for connection?

“Jamie?” He can sense the shift in my mood, our wolves forming a connection while our human sides remain at odds.

His husky voice sends vibrations through me, and I fight the urge to submit to him, and just let whatever happens, happens. When I try to lift my elbow slightly and it moves, my shoulder hurts, but at least it’s back in place.

Dean must have fixed it.

Flashes of last night return. That asshole, Samuel, cutting the rope. Trying to wedge myself on the ledge. Strong hands dragging me up and carrying me through the darkness.

“You gave me a fright.” Dean’s voice is ragged as he presses his nose to my hair and breathes deep. “I never want to go through that again.”

Waiting for the punchline, I keep still. But as his touch continues to soothe me, and he slides his fingers down to my wrist, almost but not quite holding my hand, I’m thrown.

The man who told me he’d happily watch me being kicked off his land is telling me he was worried about me.

And for some dumb reason, I’m falling for it.

“Tell me who did this. Tell me who did this, and I’ll have their fucking head.”

Is he so angry because it’s me that’s hurt, or is it just his alpha instincts to protect everyone, and the disrespect of someone doing this on his land?

Stubbornly, I say nothing. If this is just about his alpha ego, I’m not going to be collateral damage.

“Jamie, tell me who did this to you,” he growls.

I squeeze my eyes even harder together, shaking my head to push out the images of last night and concentrate on right now, as he rolls slightly forward, leaning more of his weight against me. His erection, pressed to my body, isn’t an act. That’s the real deal.

Maybe… maybe just this once would be okay. And we could deal with the fall out later.

Sensing my weakness, my wolf immediately bombards me with flashes of him covering me from behind, pinning me down against the plush cushions, and pulling my legs apart.

Liquid heat floods my core. He must be able to scent my arousal now or feel my wetness against his bare thigh.

Dean’s fingers dance across my stomach before coming to rest lightly on my hip, where his thumb draws small circles over my flesh.

“What happened, Jamie? You can trust me.”

Every touch leaves a trail of scorching heat behind it, and my toes curl. I want to arch back into him, to invite him in, but my pride and my fear has me frozen in place.

I’ve never reacted to any man like this. Why Dean Reynolds?

I’m distracted from my thoughts by a flash of light illuminating the room, and soon after, the loud boom of thunder directly overhead. I jump and slam my eyes shut, trying to force myself not to shake as panic clutches at my throat.

“It’s just thunder Jamie. Nobody else is here,” Dean whispers, his warm breath at my ear sending shivers of a different kind over my skin.

“Storms. I can’t… I hate them.” It pains me to admit any vulnerability, but with Dean so close, I know he can hear my heart pounding and scent my fear.

There’s a pause, and I fidget, regretting sharing instantly. I know better than to show weakness, to let an alpha see your vulnerabilities.

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” I mutter, embarrassed, before he shushes me and wraps me up even tighter in his arms. “I’m just tired,” I add weakly.

“Shit, that’s how Wyatt knew you would have run home.” Dean shakes his head and keeps me close. “Don’t pretend, not with me. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

A lump forms in my throat. I wish that were true.

“Shut your eyes.” His voice is deep and husky. “Just focus on me.”

Nodding, I close my eyes and attempt to relax, and I whimper again when a flash of light illuminates the room once more. Nothing he does works until his fingers find my hair and trail through the lengths. I practically melt into the cushions beneath us.

Dean shifts position, the hand on my hip sliding down my leg, stroking up and down my thigh, making my body purr for his touch.

A sigh falls from my lips, as he massages my shoulders and down my back, easing my tight muscles. His chest rumbles as the scent of my arousal blooms in the air.

As he rocks against me, I’m reminded that I’m not the only one being affected by the close contact. Gently, he runs his hand up my inner thigh and stops at the apex, waiting for me to part them and grant him permission.

I should say no. This is only going to make a complicated situation worse.

“I can distract you if you’d like?” His lips brush my neck, and I melt, suddenly desperate to taste a little of what’s on offer.

I’m out of the competition. Tomorrow, I’ll have to leave, and it’ll be up to Wyatt now to try and find out more about our mother. This could be the last time I get with this man. How do I want to spend it?

Inching my thighs just a tiny bit apart, Dean’s growl of approval has me melting. Anticipation curls up inside as his finger slips through my folds, teasing my clit, and swirling my wetness all over.

Reaching back, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and scratch his skin gently. He turns his head to the side, nipping the inside of my forearm gently with sharp teeth as he pushes one finger inside me. I cry out, overwhelmed already by the intensity of the sensations I’m feeling. I don’t think I can handle any more but even so, I arch further into him, allowing him easier access.

“Dean,” I gasp, and he vibrates harder, his hungry growls filling the air of the small room.

With lazy strokes, he brings me higher and higher, his fingers dancing across my nub while his palm grinds down, giving me the pressure I need.

“That’s it,” he praises as my walls tighten around the finger still pressed inside me. The wave building within me is slow and steady, and combined with the soft caress of his lips and tongue on the sensitive spot behind my ear, the pleasure grows and grows. The raging storm outside is completely forgotten. The roof could come off and I’m not sure I’d notice anything but the all-consuming craving I have for this man.

“Yes, Jamie. Come for me, little rogue.”

I melt in his arms, liquid heat spreading from my fingers and toes, until my climax breaks, and I come, twisting in his arms, but kept still by his powerful hold, his fingers stroking me through my release, as he peppers tender kisses across the back of my shoulder and neck.

“That was amazing,” he mutters, and I frown, thinking that should be my line.

“I don’t trust you,” I mutter, my thoughts hazy and dreamlike, as I drift off again safe in his arms.

“I know, little rogue, and I’m sorry,” he says, his fingers teasing my hair once again lulling me into a trance.