Chapter 14
TYLER
NOT WHEN YOU’RE MINE
Jamie looked like he was about to crawl out of his skin.
He stood on the other side of the office, pacing back and forth in front of the door with his big hands yanking at his hair, his broad shoulders tight under his sweatshirt.
After their conversation that night in his living room, Tyler had barely slept.
Every part of him questioned Jamie’s offer, his logical mind poking hole after hole in the idea of them being able to have a functional relationship.
Someone would get hurt, or one of them would feel neglected.
It was inevitable. There was no fucking way it could work, not with the reality of their lives and responsibilities.
The little moments they’d already shared had been amazing–Tyler wasn’t so jaded that he could pretend otherwise. Jamie was a focused, intense man, and when his attention was directed at him, Tyler felt alive.
Maybe that could be enough. Maybe it was okay to go into a relationship knowing it would end. Maybe they could try, and piece together some happiness along the way.
Tyler had gotten ready for his shift at the club, just like he always did–a close shave on his face, his skincare routine, and a light base of his preferred makeup.
He didn’t usually pick up afternoon shifts at The Blue Barn, but with the holidays so close, he’d said yes when one had opened up. Dotty and Sandra were thrilled to hang with Rowan, and had texted him a photo of the three of them making banana bread together.
He’d pulled into the parking lot of the club, turned his engine off, and sat staring out the front windshield, rubbing the heel of his hand absently over his sternum.
For the first time since becoming a dad, Tyler felt the absence of another person in his life, and with it, the longing to find someone to fill that space.
And for the first time, he knew exactly who he wanted to fill it.
It had been a gamble inviting Jamie here. But if they were going to give a relationship an honest try, he wanted Jamie to see him dance, and needed him to understand that this was a part of his life.
Now that Jamie was there, standing in front of him, Tyler wasn’t sure he’d made the right call. Jamie had said he was fine, that he wanted in, but had he changed his mind? He’d watched Tyler work the room, grinding on laps, shaking his ass in the faces of strangers.
If this job was a dealbreaker, it was better to know now. “Are you okay?” Tyler asked.
Jamie exhaled heavily, bracing his hands on his hips. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked at Tyler like he was barely keeping himself together. “I–fuck, Tyler. Do you have any idea how good you look right now?”
There was no point in lying. He smirked. “Yeah.”
“Of course you do,” Jamie said, his voice rough and ragged. “I…I want to touch you. So fucking bad.”
Tyler felt a flare of heat in his chest. He gripped the desk tighter. “You do?”
A desperate laugh fell from Jamie’s mouth. “Are you kidding? Your legs? Those shorts? That fucking jock?”
“Some of the dancers wear old school white jocks, but I’ve always preferred lace,” Tyler admitted. He liked to play with fashion, mixing big sweaters and utilitarian fabrics with delicate lace and feminine blouses and skirts. Nothing compared to the feeling of silk or satin against his bare skin.
Tyler’s skin was hot, his nipples sensitive from the silver bars brushing against the loose fabric of his t-shirt, and his cock already hard and pressing against the lace jock he wore under his shorts.
“You are…” Jamie said, taking a step closer to him, his hands gesturing up and down Tyler’s body. “You were fucking beautiful on that stage. I can’t–the way you dance, Tyler. I’ve never wanted someone so badly in my life”
“Then touch me, Jamie.”
Jamie froze, his body going unnaturally still. “Do you really mean that,” he whispered.
“If you don’t, then I’ll find someone else,” Tyler said, shrugging his shoulders and hoping his face projected teasing indifference.
That got Jamie moving again. “No, no, no.” His head shook as he advanced, each step slow and calculated. “That’s not going to work for me.”
Well, fuck. That possessiveness was sure as hell working for Tyler. “Oh yeah?”
“No.” Jamie loomed close now, his broad chest filling Tyler’s vision. “You said you were in, Tyler. And if you’re in, then no one else is going to touch you. Not when you’re mine.”
When he looked up, all Tyler saw were mossy eyes and that full, wide mouth that he wanted. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted. “Are we really doing this?” Tyler asked, needing to hear Jamie say it, just one more time.
Jamie’s hand found the side of Tyler’s neck, sliding up until it cupped his jaw. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over his cheek, sending a shiver of pleasure across his skin. One of Jamie’s brows arched, his mouth curving up in a smile. “I’m in if you are.”
Tyler barely had time to nod before Jamie kissed him.
It was almost rough, the way their mouths met. Tyler let out a soft, broken moan as Jamie’s tongue slid against his, curling and demanding. He felt the kiss in his whole body, and he felt silly for waiting, for holding himself back when he could have had this.
Yes. A million times yes.
It was a hungry, desperate kiss. There was no pretense, as though all the talking in circles they’d done over the past weeks had eroded any remaining patience Jamie might have had. Tyler met him, equally starved.
Tyler clung to the front of Jamie’s sweatshirt, pressing himself against the large, warm body in front of him. Their hips met, only an accidental brush, and Tyler gasped against Jamie’s mouth and tried to move closer.
Jamie ripped away with a growl. Tyler stared up at him, at his wet, swollen lips and wild eyes.
“Fuck, do you see how hard I am just seeing you like this?” Jamie’s voice came out rough and clumsy.
Tyler watched, mouth open, as Jamie’s un-bandaged hand closed around the bulge pressing against the front of his pants.
“Just look at you, Tyler. Fuck, you want to be touched so bad, don’t you?
” Jamie’s grip tightened around himself, and Tyler’s knees threatened to buckle as heat surged low in his belly.
It was too easy to imagine that hand on him. Touching him, covering him, surrounding him completely. Tyler knew Jamie’s touch could be his undoing.
“If you want it, then tell me,” Jamie’s voice was closer now.
Tyler hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes, and when he forced them open, Jamie’s face was hovering in front of his.
Up close, he could see the freckles on his nose and the dirty blonde of his lashes.
He could see the rough layer of blonde stubble on his cheeks.
“If you need it, let me give it to you,” Jamie went on, his voice dropping into a lower register as he leaned in closer, running the tip of his nose across Tyler’s cheek.
“Let me touch you like you’re mine. I’ll be patient.
Sweet, if you need it. But you have to tell me it’s what you want, or else I’m going to walk out that door. ”
Oh, he was good. He was too fucking good. “Please,” Tyler whispered, his hips canting forward of their own will. “I need it so bad, so fucking bad, I don’t know if I can–”
“I’ve got you,” Jamie reassured. “You’re mine now.”
Jamie brushed a calloused thumb over Tyler’s chest, catching on one of his piercings. Tyler arched toward the touch, and a whimper fell from Tyler’s parted lips as he was overwhelmed by a sense of relief.
Relief at being touched.
Relief that it was Jamie who was touching him.
Their mouths met again, and Tyler’s attention was torn between the dueling sensations of Jamie’s lips on his, and Jamie’s hand on his exposed skin.
Jamie’s touch trailed down, over Tyler’s upper thigh, down, down until he reached the hem of Tyler’s shorts. His fingers paused, toying with the frayed fabric there for a moment before dropping to caress Tyler’s bare thigh.
A shiver went through him.
“We don’t have time to do everything I want to do to you.” Jamie drew back, his forehead resting against Tyler’s, his breaths growing shorter and sharper against Tyler’s cheek. “I think I’ll take care of you nice and quick. Take the edge off so you can go back to work.”
“O-okay,” Tyler gasped.
“Good.” Jamie lowered his head and brushed his lips over the base of Tyler’s throat.
Tyler had stopped breathing, each moment of prolonged waiting heightening the anticipation. Jamie’s touch on his thigh so close to where he wanted it to be.
He hadn’t let himself want in a while–not like this. Not the kind of wanting that reached inside his chest and held him, gripped him tightly like a closed fist.
Jamie’s hand on his thigh trailed up. He flicked open the button of Tyler’s shorts and tugged down the zipper. Large knuckles dragged across the lace that held Tyler’s cock.
Tyler let out a sharp hiss, and his head fell back.
Oh, he was fucked.
Jamie teased, he fondled–fingers light and playful as he explored Tyler’s body. His mouth was decisive on Tyler's neck, kissing, licking, barely-there scrapes of teeth that left Tyler craving a bite. The tickle of Jamie’s mustache left him desperate, his skin tingling.
Jamie’s big hand encircled Tyler’s cock, squeezing gently, and Tyler couldn’t help but rock his hips into the touch, chasing the friction.
“I love the lace.” Jamie breathed the words against Tyler’s ear. “It’s the first time I’ve–” his words cut off with a groan. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to imagine a cock any other way.”
“Oh,” the word escaped–a whine and a whisper. “Fuck, Jamie, I’m…”
The fabric around his waist strained and squeezed as Jamie shoved his shorts down and yanked the jock strap out of the way, finally freeing his cock.