Chapter 23
Jamie
Jamie dragged himself out of bed, the dull ache of dehydration pounding in his skull. He’d spent the night with half a bottle of whiskey and his iPad.
Though scrolling had been a waste of time.
His mind had drifted to Shannon, to the softness of her skin, the way she smiled, the memory of her pinned to him, still seared into his mind like a fucking postcard from heaven.
They had unfinished business. And that shit needed to be dealt with before he could board the plane in Dublin. His flight wasn’t until the late afternoon, which left him just enough time to run a few errands first.
As he drove through the rain, the wooden sign for Meadow Dawn swayed in the wind. The droplets on his windshield blurred his vision, but his mind was laser focused.
A low electric buzz shot through his veins at the thought of seeing her again .
When he parked and stepped out of the car, the icy gust of wind sliced through him, sharp as a knife. He flicked up the collar of his leather jacket and marched toward the yard.
The paddock was empty, so he jogged to the stables, his pulse thrumming with each step, praying to find Shannon there.
His grin spread wide when he caught sight of her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, at ease in her surroundings.
“That’s all your hooves picked out, Trix. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”
“One day she’ll answer you back,” he chuckled, draping his arm over the stable door. “Do you think she likes being called a good girl more than you do?”
Shannon’s head flicked up at the sound of his voice, her lips parting in surprise.
“Jamie…” She smiled, her whole face lighting up. “I thought you were away on business.”
The reaction made his pulse go wild, a rush of satisfaction that she seemed more than a little pleased to see him. This was going to be epic.
“I leave this afternoon.” He raised a white carrier bag and waggled it over the door like a teaser. “I’m only here to give you these.”
She eyed the bag, a skeptical brow lifting. “You bought me something?”
“I did.”
Her cheeks pinked. “I hope you’re not getting all romantic and weird. ”
Jamie shrugged, pleased with his choice of gift.
“It’s my kind of romance.” His voice dipped deeper, the tone laced with that typical arrogance and charm that seemed to make her smile wider.
“Hmmm…a plastic bag. I’m thinking you brought me snacks?”
He opened the stable door and moved inside. “Something like that.”
Shannon’s eyes softened, but a shadow passed behind them before she slid her palm over her belly, as if contemplating something.
“Here.” He winked. “Take a look.”
He held out the bag, letting it dangle in front of her. She hesitated just long enough for him to appreciate the moment before she took it, her fingers brushing his.
Her brow furrowed when she peeked inside.
“A lead rope? Knee-length socks? What’s in the other bag?” she asked, her voice light but probing as she nodded to the brown paper package tucked under his jacket.
“The lead rope is for your horse,” he explained. “And the socks are for you.” He glanced down at the bag with a slight smirk, his veins buzzing.
“This stuff…” He gave it a soft pat. “That’s for us.”
Her fingers curled around the plastic like she couldn’t decide if it was precious to her, or contraband she shouldn’t keep.
“You didn’t need to buy me anything,” she said, the edge of reluctant gratitude in her voice.
“I know,” Jamie replied. “But I wanted to. ”
She shot him a look that told him she wasn’t sure whether to trust the honesty in his voice.
“Or you wanted to bribe me to have sex with you?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Is that it?”
“We both know I don’t need to bribe you for that to happen.”
Shannon folded her arms, tipping her hip.
“You think I’m easy, don’t you, Jamie? Like I’ll do whatever you want whenever you want? You think you can show up here with gifts and I’ll fall at your feet?”
Jamie smirked. “You won’t fall at my feet, love. You’ll sit at them. Now, let’s go up to the loft.”
Her eyes flared, filled with defiance, and he fucking loved it. Her gaze dropped to the floor, as if she couldn’t bear to look at him without her body submitting.
“Like right now?” she asked, her hands drifting to her hips, the subtle challenge in her tone unmistakable.
“Right. Now,” he replied, his voice a calm command.
He stepped to the side, opening the door wide for her to step through. Shannon placed her thumbs in the belt loops of her breeches and gave him a casual, almost defiant strut as she strode ahead.
Every step she took aimed at teasing him, while she threw a backward glance over her shoulder, heading toward the steps.
Jamie held back, letting her go first so he could watch the way her body moved, the tightness of her breeches against her ass and the sway of her hips.
Inside, the loft was warm, familiar. The scent of Shannon hung in the air. She tugged off her boots, slipped out of her coat and set the plastic bag on the floor.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” she asked, moving to the kitchen, seemingly distracted by her own thoughts.
She grabbed the kettle and turned it on, but paused, brow furrowing. “That’s weird. The water’s already boiled? I’ve been out since five.”
Jamie kicked off his shoes, the tension building in his chest when he lifted the white bag.
“Must be faulty,” he said, though his thoughts weren’t on the kettle at all. He didn’t give a fuck about tea.
“Hmmm,” she hummed, turning to face him, lips parted, and eyes narrowed. “Weird.”
Their gazes clashed, the intensity in her eyes almost swallowing the piercing blue of her stare.
He set the bag on the counter opposite her and crossed his arms, watching her, his posture commanding but still inviting.
“I may have told you a tiny white lie, love.”
Shannon’s sweet smile faltered, and the crease between her brows deepened. “Oh?”
His veins ran hotter at the anticipation building, his dick stirring. This was going to be fucking amazing.
“Yeah, the lead rope. It’s not for just Trixie. You’re going to break it in first.”
Her lips parted in surprise, quirked with that innocence he found so damn appealing.
“Well, I kinda knew that when I’m the one who’ll use it to lead her out of the stable.” She let out a dismissive puff and rolled her eyes.
Jamie rounded the counter to join her, his voice dropping even lower, rough and commanding.
“It’s not for the horse, Shannon.” His eyes locked onto hers. “Do you trust me?”
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips in that way that sent his thoughts spiralling into darker places. The sight was enough to break his control.
He wanted to lift her onto the counter and witness her shiver with every word he whispered.
She hesitated, that vulnerability flashing in her eyes just before she spoke, her voice quieter than before. “I…think so.”
“I won’t ever hurt you, love. Or do anything you’re not into. Promise,” Jamie assured her, his voice edged with a hint of darkness.
He placed a light kiss on her temple. “You tell me to stop, and I’ll stop. Okay?”
She paused, gazing upward. “If it gets too much, or you need a break, you just say mercy, and I’ll pull back. No questions asked.”
That word was his way of giving her control, even though he still held the reins.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“So do you trust me?”
A shadow flickered behind her eyes, unspoken thoughts racing. “Yes.”
That simple, three-letter word was the most powerful thing she could have given to him.
Trust was his green light to push the boundaries and unravel her .
With a growl, Jamie lunged at her, grabbing the hem of her jumper, and dragging it over her head. She gasped, arms caught before he freed her, tossing it aside.
The lavender camisole she wore underneath was a flimsy barrier, one that he pulled off her in seconds.
When she whimpered, the fire inside him flared hotter. He lowered his head, his lips crashing against hers in a messy, hungry kiss.
His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her with an intensity that left no room for hesitation, a need so raw it consumed them both.
His hands moved to her breeches, flicking the button open and sliding the zipper lower. Her hips bucked into his hand, and for a moment, he stepped back, watching her with dark, hungry intent.
This was his fantasy in motion. He’d spent the night running the scene over and over in his mind, and now he was determined to make it a reality.
“Take them off,” he commanded, folding his arms.
She took a quick breath, her chest rising at the order. Her fingers fumbled as she worked the fabric down, her dusky pink cotton briefs sliding off with the breeches.
He watched her every move, his eyes flicking down her thighs, hungry to taste between them.
As the breeches pooled at her ankles, she stood there, vulnerable, uncertain, but strikingly beautiful in her hesitance.
Ice blue irises crowned wide inky pupils, her hunger to obey making him ache.
“And the rest, love. I want you naked. ”
She unclipped her bra and stepped out of the pile of clothes at her feet, her gaze holding his the whole time.
A visible shiver prickled over her bare skin, and the vein in her neck went wild.
Jamie moved closer, pulling a navy pair of long socks from the bag he’d brought, the tag still hanging from them. He yanked it off with his teeth and held them out to her.
“Put them on. Right up to your knees.”
She let out a cute, nervous giggle, the tension between them mixing with her playful resistance. “You have a sock fetish?”
A flash of amusement lit up his face before it vanished.
“No. I have a Shannon fetish.” His voice dropped low, gravelly. “Now do as you’re told.”
The powerful hit of arousal shot through every inch of his body and into the deep thrum of his dick. Watching her standing there, beautiful and vulnerable, and obeying him... It was everything.
Shannon stooped to roll a sock up to her left knee, taking her time with the slow, tantalising speed. She repeated the same on her right leg, the movements drawing a primal reaction out of him.