Chapter 30
Thirty
Jameson
I breathe in the fresh country air as I lean against the porch railing.
It’s crisp and clean, unlike the heavy, exhaust-laced air back in Brooklyn.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the noise and energy of city life.
But after these past few months in New Haven with Lane, I think it might be time for a quieter life.
The screen door opens with a soft protest, but I don’t look up. I don’t have to, I already know who it is.
“I wasn’t hiding from you.”
She scoffs, handing me a cup of her special lavender tea, the familiar floral scent wrapping around, offering a small comfort. “As if you could, child of mine.” She leans against the railing beside me, her own cup cradled in her hands. “I like Lane.”
“Yeah, me too.” I take a sip of the tea, letting its warm, flowery taste soothe me.
She cuts right to the chase. “Then why did you lie to her, Jameson? I know you wanted to protect her, but you took her choice away from her. Instead of letting her choose how to handle the situation, you chose for her.”
I stare down at the mug in my hand, its warmth seeping into my fingers, but it does little to calm the guilt gnawing at me.
“I know I did. I just wanted her to keep the life she’s built,” I admit, my voice rough with emotion.
“She’s worked so hard to get where she is. I don't want her to lose that.”
She’s quiet for a moment, the soft clink of her ring against her cup filling the silence. Her eyes meet mine, steady and unflinching. “She’s a lot stronger than you are giving her credit for, Son. She would have figured it out, with you. But you didn’t give her the chance.”
I nod slowly, letting her words sink in.
“There’s still something there worth fighting for. Don’t give up on her,” she says softly before kissing me on the cheek and walking into the house.
Her words hit me, heavy and sharp, and my chest tightens with guilt and longing.
I shake my head, exhaling slowly. I don’t plan on it. I plan on fighting for her; with every ounce of me, with everything I’ve got.
A knock pulls me out of sleep, yanking me away from the only place I can touch her right now. This better be fucking important.
I pull on a pair of boxers and stalk toward the door, ready to tell Miles to fuck off until morning. But when the door swings open, everything in me goes still.
Lane stands there, barefoot, wrapped in a silky green robe that barely grazes the tops of her thighs. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, her green eyes lifting to meet through long, thick lashes.
My chest tightens, making it hard to breath. The faint scent of her; floral, sweet, unmistakably her, drifts past me, pulling at something I can’t control.
“Baby,” I murmur softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Is it too late to change my mind?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Is it too late to change your mind about what Lane? The movie or us?” I ask, voice low and rough. “Because I don’t think you are knocking on my door at two AM to watch a movie.”
“Us,” she breathes out. “Is it too late to change my mind about us?”
I don’t hesitate. I grab her hand and pull her inside, slamming the door shut with a soft thud. In a heartbeat, her back is against the door, her breath catching as I press her there, caging her in with my body.
“Fuck no, it’s not too late,” I growl out, catching both her hands in one hand and pinning them above her head. My free hand trails down her neck, through the valley of her perfect breasts, stopping at the knot of her robe. “But after this, you are mine. No changing your mind.”
Her pupils are blown wide. “I’m yours.”
I tug the belt until it falls open, pooling at her sides. She’s completely fucking naked beneath it.
“Fuck, Lane,” I groan, precum already leaking from the tip of my cock.
The bedside lamp throws just enough light to reveal her silky skin. I let my fingertips drift up her belly, brushing over the sensitive swell of her breast. She shivers beneath my touch, hips twitching instinctively, and it takes everything in me not to lose control.
I cradle the side of her face, taking her mouth in a hard, claiming kiss. It’s hungry and messy, like I’ve been starving for her. Because I fucking have. I moan into her mouth, unashamed of how much I need her. My teeth sink into her bottom lip, tugging gently, enticing a soft moan from her.
I pull back, voice thick with lust. “Do you want me to make love to you…or do you want me to fuck you?”
Her gaze darkens, turning wild and feral. “Make love to me later. Right now, I want you to fuck me, Jameson. Please,” she begs, her voice laced with need.
I groan, my hips jerking. I nearly lose it when she says please like that. Asking so nicely for me to do filthy things to her body.
I guide her back until her legs hit the bed. With my eyes locked on hers, I push the robe off her shoulders, the silky material pooling around our feet. Then I pull my boxers off, kicking them across the room. “Get on your knees, Lane.”
She obeys, keeping her eyes on mine as she slowly sinks to her knees in front of me. She bites her bottom lip, waiting. I pull her lip free with my thumb and slowly feed her my cock. She wraps her lips around the tip, swirling her tongue, and sucking.
I pull back from the warmth of her mouth and paint her lips with her own saliva. “Suck my cock, baby.” My hand sinks into her hair, gripping it firmly.
She shivers under my command, lips parting as she takes me into her mouth. Her tongue circles my tip before teasing my piercing. I groan, hips jerking with every flick. She works her way up and down my length, licking and sucking.
Her hands grip my thighs for balance, her fingers digging in, while those beautiful green eyes never leave mine.
“Fuck baby, that feels so good. You’re sucking my cock so well.”
She moans around me, and my hips jerk forward, my dick hitting the back of her throat. She moans again, louder this time, raw and needy.
Fuck. I will never get enough of her.
My grip in her hair tightens as my need for her grows. “Do you like that, Wildflower? Do you like me fucking your throat?”
She nods, her eyes watering, looking so fucking wrecked and beautiful.
“Flatten your tongue and breathe through your nose,” is the only warning I give.
I fuck her mouth with fast, deep thrusts, my cocking hitting the back of her throat with each flex of my hips.
She gags a few times, then relaxes, letting me in.
I pull her head back just enough to watch her take me deep, swallowing every inch as my hips piston forward with a relentless, punishing rhythm.
Fuck, she looks like a goddess on her knees before me. But if she keeps going, I’m going to come. And I want to cum inside her pussy, not her mouth.
I pull her to her feet, kissing her hard. My tongue claiming her mouth like my cock just did.
“Get on the bed,” I growl. “Face down. Ass up.”
She climbs onto the bed, getting into position; head down, back arched, ass high, her dripping pussy on full display.
I follow, positioning myself behind her, my knees digging into the mattress. “You are so fucking perfect, Wildflower,” I murmur, rubbing my hand over the globe of her ass.
I wrap my hand around my cock, dragging the tip through her wet slit before notching myself at her entrance. “Whose pussy is this, baby?”
She pushes her ass back, her voice a low whine. “It’s yours, Jameson. It’s your pussy.”
My hands find her hips, gripping them as I slowly push into her warm heat, feeding her a few inches before stopping. “That’s right. Mine. You’re mine. Are you ever going to deny me either again?”
She moans, her whole body vibrating with need. “No, never again. Please, Jameson, I need you.”
“So fucking polite.” My grip on her hips tightens. “So fucking needy.” I bottom out with a sharp thrust that has her crying out.
She feels so fucking incredible.
Tight and warm.
I lean over her body, my lips brushing her ear. “You better be quiet,” I warn, nipping at her ear. “Or they’ll hear you.” I pull out almost all the way, then slam back in, hard. “Do you think you can be quiet for me?”
She nods, burying her face in the pillow, muffling her needy moans.
“Good fucking girl.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I watch her pussy stretch around me, swallowing me with each thrust of my hips.
A groan rips from my throat before I can stop it. “You’re pussy looks so fucking good taking my cock, Wildflower.”
She clenches around me, hips jerking. “Please.”
“Please what, Wildflower?”
Green lust filled eyes meet mine over her shoulder. “Please make me come.”
“So fucking polite.” My hips slam into her, my thrust faster, rougher, deeper.
Fuck, I’d give anything to stay buried in Lane’s warmth all night, losing myself in her completely. But we aren’t alone in the house, and Lane’s moans are becoming louder, needier.
“I want you to come for me,” I rasp, as my fingers find her clit; pressing fast, tight circles around the tiny bud. My hips slam into her. Skin meets skin with each thrust, the wet, sloppy smacks echoing in the room as she cries out into the pillow beneath me.
Her pussy clamps down, strangling my cock as she comes apart, her strangled moans getting lost in the pillow.
“Fuck,” I growl out, my whole body going rigid, as I empty myself into her.
I collapse over her, rolling us onto our sides, and wrap my arms around her, pull her close; bodies slick with sweat, our breathing ragged and uneven.
I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the soft, familiar scent that’s become home. My arms tighten around her, needing her closer. “I love you, Wildflower.”
I have for months.
She turns to face me and places a gentle palm on my cheek, her eyes burning into mine. “I love you too, Jameson.”
Her words seep through my veins, breathing life into my soul. A shaky breath leaves my chest as I press my lips to her forehead.
“I’m never fucking letting you go again,” I whisper against her skin. It’s not a promise—it’s a vow. Because losing her isn’t an option. Not now. Not ever.