Chapter 27
Ellie
By the time I lock the theatre doors behind me, my voice is shot and my patience is hanging by a thread.
Fundraiser announcement: done.
Hockey team collaboration explanation: done.
Fielding questions that ranged from ‘Do we have to?’ to ‘Is this thing mandatory?’: also done.
One of my students even called the hockey guys sweaty neanderthals with sticks.
This is going to be the longest three weeks of my life; I can already tell.
I drag my bag higher on my shoulder and head across campus.
I am in desperate need for coffee right now.
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows over the quad.
Around me, students laugh with their friends, professors walk to their respective buildings, and no one seems as stressed out as I feel right now.
I hate that I’m thinking about how it went for Jamie. I hate that I care. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to stop. Whether I like it or not, our worlds are officially coming together, and it doesn’t appear that I can stop the inevitable crash.
As I sit in the café, I sip on my hot latte and stare aimlessly out the window.
My thoughts are scattered. The play, the fundraiser, Jamie.
One thing in particular stands out from the rest of my jumbled thoughts.
Why did Jamie ask who Freddie was? Was he standing by my car the whole time?
Why did he seem so pissed off? Could he be…
jealous? No, that’s ridiculous. He couldn’t be jealous, because we’re not even together.
Yet he seemed like I had slapped him in the face. I can’t lie, the thought of Jamie Patterson being jealous over me is an attractive one. Little does he know, the man he’s jealous of doesn’t swing for my team.
When I get home, the house is quiet. I’m assuming Jamie’s in his room, thank God. I don’t think I can have a clear conversation with the man right now if he’s still acting the way he was earlier.
I kick off my shoes and drop my bag by the stairs, heading straight for the kitchen.
I halt in my tracks when I see Jamie standing there, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. His face is serious, his jaw clenched.
Okay, so I guess he’s still pissed. So much for grabbing a snack and heading to bed.
He’s so quiet, I’m not sure he’ll ever speak. But then he does.
“How was work?” he asks, and I’m taken aback by the question because that’s not what I was expecting him to say. My weight shifts from one leg to the other as I stand awkwardly at the island, too nervous to move.
“It was fine…” I say slowly, watching him carefully.
“Aren’t you going to ask how my day was?” he inches forward slightly. I instinctively take a step back. I’m not afraid of him, but I am feeling a bit intimidated at the moment.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “how was your day?”
He smiles slightly, but it’s not a real smile. It’s more of a dangerous one.
“It wasn’t great, honestly. I couldn’t really concentrate. I was too distracted by the guy you were on the phone with this morning. Freddie, was it?” he lifts an unhinged brow. I want to laugh, however, that doesn’t seem like the smart thing to do right now, so I keep it in.
“Jamie, I—” he cuts me off.
He closes the distance between us in three long strides. “Who is Freddie?” he demands, his eyes narrowing as he studies me for my reaction.
I’m frozen in place. He’s right there, and he looks so serious. My heart skips a beat. Jamie’s never been the jealous type. He was never one to throw a punch off the ice. Yet, right now, he looks like he could punch a wall, and the cold edge in his tone sends a shiver down my spine.
When I finally having my breathing under control, I tell him, “He’s a friend back in New York. Why?” I shrug casually as if his closeness and attitude aren’t affecting me in the slightest.
“And you two just casually have phone calls early in the morning?” he questions in an accusatory tone.
“Sometimes, yes.” I don’t know why I haven’t told him the truth yet. Maybe because it’s kind of hot to see him all worked up and envious. Maybe I like the way his body hovers against mine, or the way he’s now gripping my arms. Not tight, not aggressive, just holding.
I watch his nostrils flare. He clearly didn’t like that answer.
“Does your little friend know about us?”
My brows furrow. “Know what about us, exactly?”
He looks offended, as if I’ve just told him that he smells like dog shit. He doesn’t of course.
“That we’re—”
“We’re not anything, Jamie. We’re not together,” I say sternly, but I immediately regret it when I see his face fall before turning angry again.
Without another word, he lifts me up and places me on the counter. My breath hitches as his hands grip my thighs, holding me in place. Well, this took an unexpected turn.
“Jamie,” I gasp, my voice shaky. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Showing you what we are,” he replies with a growl.
Suddenly, he grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head in one swift motion.
My bra follows, my breasts exposed to the cool air.
I try to cover myself, but he grabs my wrists, pushing my arms down to my sides.
I’m in shock. I’ve never done it on a kitchen counter.
Then again, I’ve never done it in a public locker room either until I was with Jamie.
I didn’t expect this conversation to head this way, and I know I should stop it. I should tell him to fuck off and leave me alone. I should, but I won’t. Because I think I’m going to like what comes next, and I can’t hide how my body reacts to his touch.
His hands slide over my stomach and up to my breasts. He squeezes them in his warm, rough hands, before his mouth lands on one of my nipples and he sucks hard. He plays with my other nipple between his fingers, pinching and squeezing, and the sensation is almost too much. My head falls back.
“Jamie, I…oh god,” I cry. I told myself this wouldn’t happen again. I told myself it was a one and done situation, just exes catching up. However, here we are. I’m half naked on the kitchen counter with Jamie sucking on my tits. Way to hold out, Ellie. Great job.
He pulls away, his eyes peering up at me with hunger. When he stands, his lips crash against mine, rough and demanding. I don’t even pull away. I just let him kiss me, his tongue invading my mouth and staking his claim.
Despite the fact that this is wrong, and I’ll probably regret it later, my body responds to him.
My nipples tighten and my core aches with a familiar heat.
Jamie’s hand slides down my back, gripping my hip and pulling me tighter against him.
I feel the hardness of his cock pressing against me, and my breath catches in my throat.
He breaks the kiss, his breath ragged as he watches me. “You’re mine, Ellie,” he tells me, his voice hoarse with desire. “Do you understand? Mine. Not Freddie’s, or any other man.”
My eyes meet his, and instead of anger, I find hope and lust in them. I don’t respond, because I’m not completely sure how to. I don’t want to admit to him that I’m enjoying this. That deep down, I do want to be his. But I’m scared as hell to let him in again.
Jamie’s hand slides down, cupping me through my jeans. I gasp as he squeezes me, his touch both rough and tender.
“Tell me, Sweetheart,” he demands, his lips brushing against my ear. “Tell me you’re mine.”
My breath is unsteady and my body trembles with need. I can’t tell him that. I can’t be his.
He grabs my chin between his fingers and forces me to look him in the eyes.
“Say it, Ellie,” he says again, unbuttoning my jeans and pushing his hand inside.
My vagina is screaming at me to give in so he’ll give me what I need, and my brain is saying to stop this madness and run. But in the end, my vagina wins.
“Y-yes,” I practically whisper. “I’m yours.”
“You’re not just saying that so I’ll make you cum, are you Sweetheart?” he asks.
I shake my head as his hand moves lower and hovers over my panties.
“No.”
A dark smile curves his lips as he pulls his hand out of my jeans and steps back.
“Prove it,” he commands, his voice a challenge.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my jeans, pulling them down along with my panties in one swift motion.
I blink at him, unsure of exactly how he wants me to prove it to him. “H-how?”
He licks his lips seductively and I swear I almost fall apart. He looks so… strong. So completely in control that I totally forget how vulnerable he looked in the locker room. Right now, he doesn’t resemble that man at all. This man looks like he’s ready to destroy me.
His eyes darken as they focus between my legs.
“Open those legs and show me that pretty pussy. Let me devour you, Sweetheart,” he murmurs.
Holy mother of—
Jamie uses his index fingers to lightly push my legs apart, exposing my pussy to the relentlessly cold air in the kitchen. Is this happening? On the counter? All because he’s jealous of a man he’s never even seen?
My cheeks flame when Jamie crouches down so his face is eye level with my bare vagina. His gaze is hungry and full of need. His hands grip my hips as he pulls me toward him.
“You look delicious, baby, and I’m famished,” he growls before his head dips between my legs. His lips brush against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. He nips, and I squeal at the unexpected feeling. My breath catches as I feel his warm breath on my center.
“You’re already soaking wet for me, Sweetheart, and we’re just getting started.”
My hands grip the edge of the counter as his tongue flicks out, tracing a path along my folds, and I can’t help the gasp that falls off my lips. My head falls back, and instead of pretending that I’m not enjoying this, I let myself feel it. I give myself permission to let go.
“Oh God,” I moan, my body arching toward him.
I feel his smirk against my skin before he continues his assault with his tongue, delving deeper. One hand tangles in his hair, my nails scraping his scalp as I hold him close.
“Holy shit,” I groan, my hips bucking against his mouth. “Jamie, please.”
He hums his approval, his fingers digging into my hips as he holds me still. His tongue is relentless, his mouth devouring me just as he said he would. God, I’ve missed feeling wanted. I’ve missed the feeling of a man falling at his feet for me.
My breath comes in sharp gasps, my body tightening as pleasure coils low in my belly.
“Tell me again,” he demands, his voice muffled against me. “Tell me you’re fucking mine.”
My eyes squeeze shut, my body on the brink of release.
“Jamie,” I growl. Screw him for making me say that when I’m in such a vulnerable position. Yet, I say it anyway.
“Ellie…” he whispers against me before he enters one finger inside me. Oh my God. I’m going to cum. “Tell me, baby.”
“I’m yours,” I pant, my voice desperate. “I’m yours, Jamie. Please…”
“Please what, Sweetheart?” he coaxes.
“I’m going to cum,” I tell him, my eyes watering at the intense pressure building inside me.
“Good. Cum for me, baby girl.”
His finger and tongue begin to move faster and I’m a goner.
I let out a sharp cry as I have the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had, my body shaking as waves of pleasure wash over me.
Holy shit. My vibrator never made me feel like that.