CHAPTER 26
Jameson
Swiss Alps, Switzerland
Night One Off Grid
She said it so quietly it almost didn’t register. “No. You’re not.”
The air between us felt charged, like the moment before a round chambers. My thumb was still pressed against the inside of her wrist, tracking her pulse.
Steady, but faster now.
Her fingers tightened around mine, and she didn’t wait for me to overthink it. She turned and started down the short hallway, tugging me after her.
I followed because there was nothing I wanted more.
My own pulse was loud in my ears, solid, steady thuds that matched the rhythm of our footsteps on the hardwood.
She pushed the bedroom door all the way open. The room was dim, lit only by the low lamp on the nightstand and the faint glow from the hallway.
She stopped beside the bed and faced me. Her gaze was unwavering. “I want you. Not the version that’s trying to protect me from itself.”
The directness short-circuited a part of my brain.
There was nothing left to interpret. She had brought me into the room, removed the uncertainty, and asked what came next.
So I showed her.
I stepped into her space, one hand sliding to the back of her neck, the other finding her waist. I kissed her.
I kept the first kiss controlled, leaving her room to change her mind. She made a soft sound against my mouth and tightened her fingers in my shirt instead.
I deepened it.
Her tongue met mine, and the taste of her, coffee from earlier and something sweet, pulled every thought toward the point where our mouths met. The way her body settled against mine. The certainty of her hands gripping my shirt.
We kissed until breathing became difficult.
I broke away just long enough to unclasp her bra. She helped, then reached for me before the fabric hit the floor.
Her skin was warm under my palms.
I traced the slope of her shoulders, the dip of her spine, the way she shivered when my thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts.
My holster dug into my side.
I reached back, unclipped it, and set the gun on the nightstand with a quiet metallic click.
She watched me do it, then reached for my shirt.
Clothes disappeared piece by piece. My belt. My pants.
When I slid her panties down her legs, she stepped out of them and kicked them aside.
Skin on skin now.
Her breasts pressed against my chest, her hips fitting beneath my hands as if my body remembered exactly where to hold her. I ran my palms down her back, following the smooth lines of muscle and the dip at the base of her spine.
She shivered when my hands settled lower.
I lowered my mouth to her neck and felt her pulse jump beneath my lips. I kissed along the line of it, then across her collarbone, lingering where her breath caught. Her fingers tightened against my shoulders.
She pulled back slightly, eyes locked on mine, then sank to her knees.
She moved before I could recalibrate. One second she was standing in front of me, and the next she was looking up as one hand closed around me with complete certainty.
Every thought I had been trying to keep in sequence scattered.
She gave one slow stroke and leaned in.
Her mouth closed around me, soft heat and slow pressure that made my vision blur at the edges. A low sound slipped from my chest as my hand found her hair.
Not pushing.
Holding on.
She took me deeper, lips sliding down, tongue pressing along the underside of my shaft in a way that forced my eyes shut for half a second.
The heat of her mouth. The slow movement of her hand. The quiet sounds of satisfaction she made against me.
My hips moved before I caught myself.
My control narrowed too quickly.
Another thirty seconds and stopping would become considerably harder.
I tightened my fingers gently in her hair. “Brynn. Stop.”
She pulled back, breath uneven, lips flushed.
I pulled her to her feet and pressed my forehead to hers, breathing hard while I fought to get control back.
I backed her toward the bed until her knees hit the mattress. She lowered herself onto it, watching me as I followed her down.
I settled between her thighs.
I kissed down her neck, lingering at a spot that made her arch beneath me. Her breasts filled my hands, soft and warm. I dragged my tongue over one nipple, then the other, grazing with my teeth just enough to pull a gasp from her.
I chased the sound lower with my mouth, over the soft skin beneath her ribs, the curve of her stomach, and the inside of one thigh, then the other.
When I reached the heat between them, I opened her with my hands and dragged my tongue slowly through the center of her.
Her back arched off the mattress, breasts lifting full and tight as her head tipped back.
I focused on the places that made her breath break, gentle at first, then firmer when her fingers tightened in my hair and her hips started moving against my mouth.
I slid my fingers inside her and adjusted with each change in her breathing until I found the angle that made her thighs tremble.
Her sounds grew louder, breathier.
I kept the pressure steady, using my mouth and fingers together until her thighs tightened around me.
“Jameson. Fuck. Please.” Her fingers twisted in my hair.
I climbed back up her body and positioned myself at her entrance.
She reached down to guide me in, but I caught her wrist before she could.
Her eyes opened, hazy and irritated. “What?”
“I should have asked.”
Her brow tightened. “Asked what?”
“If you still have the implant.”
Relief softened her expression. “No. I had it removed a few months ago. It was giving me trouble.”
Everything in me went still.
Somehow, I had reached the same decision point twice without preparing for it.
“But I’m on the pill,” she said quickly, her eyes searching my face. “Daily. It’s okay.”
Desire made everything louder, which meant it also made everything easier to miss.
I held her gaze. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
I released her wrist.
Her hand slid back between us, but I caught it and pressed it into the mattress beside her head. Then I pushed into her slowly.
Her body tightened around me by degrees, and the sensation disrupted my breathing before I was fully inside her.
I lowered my forehead to her shoulder and stayed there until I could separate wanting more from moving too quickly.
Her other hand settled on my shoulder.
Then I started moving.
Slowly at first. Deep, consistent strokes while I watched her face for any sign that the angle or pressure was wrong.
Instead, her lips parted.
Her hips lifted to meet mine.
I hooked one of her legs over my arm, opening her wider, and plunged into her until she cried out and her nails dragged down my chest.
The sound went through me.
Everything narrowed to her face. Her eyes hazy. Her mouth open. Her heels digging into me, urging me deeper every time I moved.
I kept the rhythm steady because her body responded to it so clearly. I pressed into her with each movement and watched the tension rebuild through her.
Her breathing shortened.
Her thighs tightened.
Then she broke. Her whole body clenched around me as she moaned.
The rhythm I had been maintaining failed.
I lost the next movement completely.
Then the next.
By the time I realized what was happening, control was already gone.
I held myself deep as the release moved through me, heavy enough to erase everything except her body around mine and the sound of both of us trying to breathe.
Sweat cooled on our skin as her fingers traced slow lines along my shoulders and down my spine.
My mind was quieter than it had been in days, but it was still moving.
Her heartbeat slowing beneath me.
The warmth between us.
The unlocked door down the hall.
Brynn pressed a soft kiss to my jaw. “Still overthinking?” she whispered, voice husky.
I exhaled a quiet laugh against her neck. “Always. But... less.”
She smiled.
The bedroom door was still unlocked. The perimeter system was active. We had several hours before the next scheduled check.
I knew all of that, but none of it required an immediate response.