Primal Desire (Crimson Hollow #8)

Chapter One

Jamie couldn’t stand watching another grown man fish for compliments every five minutes. It was exhausting. He’d dumped Chad six months ago after the third consecutive weekend spent talking him down from jealous spirals.

Now here he was with William, watching those same warning signs—the double-texting when Jamie didn’t respond within minutes, the subtle digs about his friendships with other guys.

Jamie sighed, already mentally composing the text he’d send his roommate later. If I ever bring home another guy who needs me to validate his existence every fifteen minutes, just lock me out of the apartment.

“I saw him hanging all over you! Are you seriously going to stand there and lie to me?”

He was so over the constant repetition of this argument. “Nick and I are roommates, William. What do you want me to do, kick him out?”

“That doesn’t mean you two have to look all cozy together,” William said, as if he’d just made a point that won the argument.

Not again. Nope. Jamie was tired of repeating himself and trying to convince William otherwise. No matter what he said, William was determined to believe what he wanted. Jamie had no desire to try and mend things between them.

Not when William had the same negative traits as Chad. It would be like trading in a constantly barking dog for one that never stopped whining. William’s bark was a little snarlier, but ultimately, they were both annoying damn men.

William’s voice rose an octave. “I saw him with his arm around you! And you're going to stand there and pretend nothing's going on?”

Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose. This again. “Nick and I share an apartment, William. Should I make him sleep in the yard?”

“You don't have to sit practically in his lap on the couch,” William said, crossing his arms with the smug certainty of someone who believed they'd just delivered checkmate.

Jamie's shoulders slumped. He'd had this exact conversation three times this week alone. William would never hear him, no matter how he phrased it. The realization settled like a stone. He couldn’t do this anymore.

Chad 2.0. Same jealousy software with a slightly different interface. Jamie had already deleted one clingy app from his life. He wasn't about to download the premium version.

Jamie kept his voice level, like talking someone off a ledge. “Nick was having a rough night. Friends comfort each other.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” William's face contorted, his voice rising until the people on the next block could probably hear him. “You must think I'm completely stupid.”

More like completely unhinged.

Jamie searched William’s face for any flicker of concern about what might’ve been troubling Nick.

Nothing. Just the same possessive glare.

The same theatrical outrage. He stared at William's twisted expression and wondered why he’d agreed to go on a date with him in the first place, let alone start a relationship.

Jamie exhaled slowly. “I need you to leave.” His feet ached from standing all day at work, and this conversation was going nowhere. “If you want to keep arguing, do it with your reflection.”

William’s fingers dug into Jamie’s bicep like talons. The sudden grip made Jamie gasp. “We’re not done until I get the truth. What’s really happening with you and Nick?”

“You can’t be serious.” Jamie twisted his arm, but William’s grip only tightened. “Get your hands off me!”

“You think I’m stupid?” William yanked Jamie closer, his voice dropping to a growl. “Admit it. You two are fucking.”

“Let go!” Jamie’s fist bounced uselessly against William’s knuckles. “We’re finished. Get out of my apartment!”

Jamie’s back slammed against the wall as William pinned him there. William’s face transformed, eyebrows sharp as knives, mouth compressed into a bloodless line. “You’re ending this for him.”

“This right here is why we’re done.” Jamie’s chest heaved as he stared into eyes burning with rage. William had never gotten physical before. The man towered over him, and while William wasn’t a bodybuilder, his frame carried enough weight to do real damage.

William leaned in until their noses were almost touching. “No.’ He shook his head slightly. “This doesn’t end until I say it ends. Let me catch you two getting cozy again, and you’ll find out what I’m truly capable of.” His grip tightened even more, making Jamie cry out. “Understood?”

If he gave in, agreed in any way, it would only give William power over him. Jamie knew this because that was how his dad had controlled his mom until she’d been brave enough to divorce him.

“Take your hands off me. Now,” Jamie ground out.

Slowly, William released him. Jamie sidestepped, calculating the distance to the brass lamp on the end table without looking directly at it.

“Don’t give me that look,” William said, his tone eerily controlled. “Like I’m some kind of monster.”

Because you are.

“Leave.” Jamie clenched his fists to stop them from shaking, determined not to let William see how rattled he was. “Now.”

William stood motionless, jaw working beneath his skin, breath whistling through flared nostrils as though he were weighing his options. He didn’t have any.

Then something shifted. William’s posture softened, shoulders dropping as if strings had been cut. His face smoothed out, but his eyes remained winter-cold. He inched forward with palms up, like approaching a spooked animal. “Baby, we need to talk this through.”

“We’re done. Just go.” Jamie kept his voice steady despite his thundering pulse. The lamp waited behind him, but he didn’t dare look away from William, not even for a second.

“You shouldn’t have pushed me that far.” William spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“You’re blaming me for your actions?” Jamie’s mouth hung slightly open. Then he recovered. “Go, William. Now.”

“We’ll talk about this later.” His gaze frosted over. “I meant what I said.” His hand shot out, fingers curling around Jamie’s throat and squeezing. “If I catch you getting cozy with another guy, you’ll find out what I’m truly capable of.”

Jamie flinched as his muscles tensed, his breath coming out in quick bursts.

All he wanted was for William to leave. They’d been dating for only three weeks, but William was acting as if it had been three years.

Jamie couldn’t even pinpoint when it happened, the moment when William had gone from a man Jamie was simply dating to… this.

William leaned in to kiss him, but Jamie jerked his head to the side. The guy laughed and released Jamie’s throat. “I’ll call you later.”

As soon as he walked out, Jamie locked the door, pressing his back to the wood, wishing to god he’d never met William.

* * * *

Thirty minutes later, Jamie walked into Frothy Pine. Thankfully the temperature had cooled enough that he wouldn’t sweat in the long-sleeved jacket he’d worn to hide his bruised arm. His neck had been red from where William had grabbed it, but the marking had faded.

Bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder at the tables, and even the booths were overfilled with people shouting to be heard over the thrum of a classic rock song.

The bar itself dominated the left side, a long slab of oak, stained with decades of spilled drinks.

Behind it was Ash, the owner, a big, burly guy who loved to laugh and also put you out on your ass if you caused trouble.

The only entertainment was a dart board.

No pool tables. Not that Jamie played the game.

Ash was also entertainment, flipping bottles and sliding pints down the bar, wearing a huge smile like he was enjoying life. Jamie wished he could feel that carefree.

Sliding onto a stool at the bar, Jamie raised his hand to gain Ash’s attention. The handsome bartender sauntered his way, giving Jamie a warm smile. “What can I get for you, Jamie?”

A bodyguard. “Mojito, and make it a strong one, Ash.”

One of Ash’s brows arched. “That kind of night?”

That kind of life. “Stop trying to poke around inside my head. I’ve got laser beams to keep out intruders.”

Ash chuckled, a warm, rich sound that helped to settle Jamie’s nerves. “No bartender therapy. I’ll grab your drink.”

“Appreciate it.” Jamie was alone at the bar with his undiagnosed PTSD and some sticky coasters that smelled like old limes.

He slid the bowl of pretzels toward him, grabbing a few to munch on.

The song “Don’t Stop Believing” played through the bar, but he’d stopped believing a long time ago.

It was hard to hold on to hope when you’d been abused by your dad, bullied in school for being gay, and continually dated insecure losers.

Even so, life hadn’t been all that bad. Nick was a great roommate, and Jamie liked his job. He liked hanging out at Frothy Pine too.

He just had the worst luck when it came to men.

The crowd was three beers past sober and on the cusp of singing along to Journey.

Laughter and clinking glasses filled any cracks in the soundtrack.

Some guy in the corner was double-fisting his beer bottle, yelling at the dartboard.

Two tables over, a woman in a neon-pink blazer stabbed her finger in the air as punctuation to a story Jamie couldn’t hear, but honestly, he was rooting for her.

Anyone that emphatic deserved to be right.

Ash dropped off his mojito. “You want to start a tab or just go for broke tonight?”

Wasn’t that the question. “Let’s see how many I need before the painkillers kick in.” Jamie squeezed lime between his fingers. “If I drink three, will I finally be immune to drama magnets?”

“Depends on your definition of drama,” Ash replied, already moving down the bar to knock heads when two guys started arguing by the dart board.

Somewhere behind Jamie, a chair scraped violently against the floor, followed by a groan and the muttered curse of someone discovering their tolerance hadn’t kept pace with their ambition.