Chapter 5
Five
VIOLET
Early morning sunlight shines through the open curtains of Jamie's bedroom. The low lighting highlights the mistake I made last night. At least the sun hasn't even lifted above the horizon yet.
It doesn't matter though, because the damage has already been done. The amount of time I slept in Jamie's bed doesn't matter. What does matter and makes me feel sick to my stomach is that I closed my eyes to begin with.
I’d like to be mad at him for keeping me here and wringing as many orgasms from me as possible. Sure, I manipulated him first, but he then used my weaknesses against me too.
The push and pull is as exhausting as his stamina. And I don't mean his ability to get it up all night long because, let's be real, Jamie's almost thirty. I don't think it's possible for any man to have sex for seven hours straight.
I don't think I could handle that either. But what Jamie does have is the ability to keep me on edge even after bringing me to orgasm three times.
I'm not one of those women who can come six times in an evening. It's unfortunate, yes, but the times I reach four are pretty exciting. Jamie has been the only person to get me to four.
And he did last night. I blame the spine-bending fourth orgasm for me passing out in Jamie's bed. It may have only been a two hour long sleep, but it shouldn't have happened.
I've only slept here after some particularly drunken nights, and even then, Cassidy came to get me at dawn without question.
Waking up sprawled across his bare chest has scared me shitless. I wasn't too drunk to go home last night, nor was I feeling clingy. I was just...comfortable.
That's why I'm currently standing in Jamie's bedroom doorway and chewing on the inside of my cheek. I've dressed and combed through my hair with my fingers, so there's nothing left for me to do once I grab my shoes in the kitchen.
So why am I still looking at Jamie's sharp jawline and thick eyelashes?
Flashes of last night assault my mind as I study his tattoo.
"You taste so sweet," Jamie mumbles between my legs. There's that word again.
Tingles race through my core with each stroke of his warm tongue against my pussy. He's so skilled that it makes me wonder who all he practices with.
My mind tries to haul me in a different direction by wondering how many women Jamie is sleeping with this month, but his fingers grip my thighs and spread them wider.
I huff, my neck flinging back at the burn in my muscles. Flexible sure, but Jamie's wide and he's forcing me to take his broad shoulders.
"Jamie!"
To shut me up, he slides a finger through my bottom cheeks and probes my other entrance. He likes to tease me with anal play, but he has yet to take me there. I'm not against it. Hell, I crave it. But when he says, "Someday I'll have all of you," the need shrivels up and dies.
Instead of acknowledging his reverent comment, I reach down and drag my hands through his hair roughly. He grunts when I pull on the long strands then shoves his naughty finger in my pussy instead.
"Yes!" I cry hoarsely and lean up on my elbows. I'm not going to reach my peak for a while longer since I've already had two orgasms, but I will enjoy the pleasure he's willing to give me.
Unable to help myself when Jamie rests his head on my thigh, I give in to the moment of intimacy and trail my fingers along the beauty of his dragon tattoo.
Slowly, with deliberate attention, Jamie pumps two fingers inside of me while nibbling on the crease between my leg and vagina.
My breathing turns ragged, and my tongue pushes to the roof of my mouth to keep me from saying something he might deem as sweet. Realizing just how romantic the sexy moment became, I yank my hand away from the intricate lines of his ink and slump back on his bed.
Similar to then, I pull my hand away from my chest. What am I doing watching him sleep, acting like that was a fond memory? Those are only meant for people in love and I—can't complete that thought, I realize.
Because someone in love wouldn't treat the other person the way I've treated Jamie. See? I don't love him.
I only feel bad.
Guilty. Like always.
I'm always feeling so fucking guilty.
Swallowing thickly, I try not to look around Jamie's apartment as I hunt for my shoes and purse. Except, the cozy plaid blanket on the back of the large couch in front of the fireplace makes each step even harder.
When I notice the purple mug by the coffeepot, I falter but continue. Spying my jacket hanging by the door along with my purse, I hustle toward them.
I can't get out of here fast enough. Yet I feel like I'm dragging my feet. Jamie's apartment has such a cozy vibe that's trying to suck me in. At least that's what I'm going to tell myself.
Quietly, I pull my jacket and shoes on. I've escaped Jamie's home more times than I can count, yet it gets harder and harder each time. The door snicks shut behind me, and I rush for the elevator. Blinking rapidly once I'm in the small box, I try to keep the memories at bay.
Jamie with his cold hand under my shirt, but not grabbing my boob. He held my lower back with a gentleness that I can still feel.
I blink again and shake my head.
But then... Jamie's lips are under my jaw as he bends his knees to reach my sensitive spots.
No, I can't think about this right now. I'm leaving his darn apartment and going home.
Jamie pins me to the wall and lifts me up as he stands to his full height again. The only thing that stops us from ripping each other’s clothes off right here and now is the ding of the elevator door opening.
Ding!
Jolting, I puff out a breath and rush for the main entrance. I already told Cassidy not to pick me up this morning, and with how distraught I am, I'm glad.
Snow falls from the sky, and I thank the chilly flakes for their ability to ground me. It's less than a twenty-minute walk home, but I feel like I might need much longer to clear my head of that man.
With each step away from his apartment building, the tension in my body increases. This shouldn't feel this wrong.