45. Maya
Maya
Checking that there’s no one else in the hall, Jamie pulls me toward his hotel room, pressing my back against the door as it locks behind us.
His lips are on mine before I can take a breath, molding his mouth against my own as he cups my face with his hands. I wrap my hands in his black t-shirt, pulling his body against mine briefly before I pull my lips away from his.
“I need a shower. I still have sand in places sand doesn’t belong.” Jamie chuckles into the crook of my neck before leaning back and letting me out of his embrace. Tugging on my hands, he pulls me toward the bathroom, turning on the water in the large glass walk-in shower.
Spinning me around, Jamie stands behind me in the large opulent mirror—a juxtaposing replication of our time together on Halloween. His hands crawl up my stomach, under my shirt, helping me to tug it over my head.
He leans down, trailing soft kisses down the back of my neck. “I told you I’d take this off with my teeth,” he growls in a low whisper, pulling slowly at the string holding my swimsuit in place.
The knot unravels and the triangles covering my body fall down.
Jamie’s stormy gray eyes burn into my skin as he takes in my naked form.
His fingers find the tie at the center of my back, and the bikini falls away completely.
The soft brush of his fingers makes me dizzy as he brings his hands around and takes my breasts in both hands.
“You are a work of art,” he whispers, squeezing gently as I lean back against his rock hard chest. I want to close my eyes against the rush of emotion, but can’t make myself look away from his reflection.
His black hair brushes over my shoulder as he kisses his way down, lowering himself into a squat behind me as he tugs off my jean shorts and bikini bottoms.
Jamie’s hands squeeze the globes of my ass as he comes back up, and I brace my arms on the countertop in front of me, my knees no longer able to hold me upright.
Bending himself over my back, one strong hand grasps my hip while the other finds my sensitive clit between my thighs with the lightest pressure.
Unable to take any more teasing, I turn in his arms and sear my lips to his, pulling a groan from his lips as his hands span my waist. Our tongues tangle and lightning shoots through every nerve in my body as I unbutton his pants and fumble to remove his clothes.
Finally both undressed, Jamie carries me into the hot spray of water, our slick bodies rubbing together in a way that makes me lose all sense of reality. Nothing exists outside of this room.
He sets me on my feet, breaking the kiss and panting to catch his breath. He reaches back, grabbing a clean washcloth from the shelf outside the shower door, and covers it in soap. Once again, he spins my body, my back to his front, and gently begins cleaning the salt and sun from my skin.
Jamie drags the warm cloth over my shoulders, across my back, down my thighs.
Neither of us speaks as I let him pamper me—worship my body in a way that fights off every bad thought my mother has ever given me about myself, just like he said.
When he’s finished cleaning my body, he starts on my hair, using the curl-friendly shampoo and conditioner he brought for himself, and my stomach swoons at the thought and care he takes while handling me.
I want to melt as his fingers massage my scalp, gently brushing through the knots and tangles caused by the seawater and wind.
When he’s finally finished, I stand under the warm spray, admiring him as he quickly washes his own body and hair. The soapy water running down through the valley of his chest and over his abs is erotic enough to drive a girl feral.
Jamie grabs me a fluffy towel, wrapping it around my shoulders before planting a kiss on my wet hair. “Dry off. I’m making love to you in an actual bed tonight—all night long—where we finally don’t have to be quiet.”
Grinning, I watch as he takes a towel for himself and walks out of the bathroom, giving me a moment to gather my thoughts and anticipate the promise in his words.
Just as I’m about to walk out of the bathroom, naked and excited, I hear a knock on the hotel room door. Furrowing my brows, I look around the corner at Jamie, whose expression is equally as confused.
He grabs a pair of sweatpants, pulling them on and bringing me one of his big hoodies and a pair of clean boxer shorts to put on. As I dress myself behind the cracked bathroom door, I watch as Jamie looks through the peephole and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.
“Holy fuck, it’s your dad,” he whispers, eyes wide in panic, and I feel mine do the same. Another knock comes, this time a little louder. “What do I do?”
I look around, trying to come up with a plan. It’s only about nine o’clock, so it’s not unreasonable that my dad would want to talk to Jamie before his last game—there’s no reason to suspect that my dad knows I’m here at all.
I contemplate hiding in the bathroom or out on the balcony until Jamie can get rid of him, but then change my mind.
It’s about time my father knows the truth.
I’m in love with Jamie Booker, and nothing is going to change that.
Jamie himself said he was ready to talk through the issues he has with my father, and now—as inconvenient as it is for my raging libido—is as good a time as any.
“Are you okay with him knowing?” I ask softly, and Jamie, though he looks unsure and apprehensive, nods his head. “Then I think it’s about time the three of us talked.”
Jamie turns away from the door, grabbing an old band T and pulling it over his head. The fact that we’ve both got wet hair is going to give away exactly what we were doing before my father got here, but I couldn’t care less at the moment.
My stomach flutters with anxiety about how the conversation between the two of them is going to go, because no matter what, I won’t lose Jamie again. After one more tense moment of hesitation, Jamie pulls the door open, coming face to face with my father.
He looks relieved to see that Jamie is going to let him in to talk, until his gaze finds me, standing behind the hockey captain, wearing his clothes, and then my dads gaze shifts from shocked to confused to hurt.
Nodding once in acceptance, my dad finally says, “Well, looks like this is about to take longer than I thought.”