shirt she wore. It was an overlarge tee with tits and a pussy on it—her idea of both a joke and a negligee, presumably. Last night, we’d all burst out laughing at the sight of it, and she’d beamed at us before snuggling between Saint and Ink and falling immediately asleep.
Shoving the hem up high, I revealed creamy skin, soft curves, and tits that made my mouth water. I lifted one hand and cupped her, molding the softness in my fingers, loving how she mewled when I grazed a digit over her nipple. She bit at her lip, vulnerability blending with need in her eyes as she stared at me, letting me touch her, responding infinitesimally to that touch by the flaring and dilating of her pupils, the soaring wave of gooseflesh that made an appearance wherever I pressed my fingers, and… fuck, the sweet scent of her desire that made itself known to me.
I hadn’t realized she was panty-less. Had to figure the others didn’t know as well. But now that she was bare to me, and when I felt her cream through my boxers? I needed a taste.
Shuffling down, I pressed kisses to each of her nipples, then with my tongue, tasted between the mounds then glided down over her stomach. I left a line down the center and then headed toward the fluff that covered her pussy. She wasn’t bare, not like I was used to, but she was neat and trimmed and I figured I could work with that.
Her scent was addicting. I pressed my nose to her belly for a second, smiling when I felt her nervous laugh and the rake of her nails over my scalp as she ran her fingers through my hair.
“Jamie?”
I grunted. “Just savoring the moment.”
“I understand,” she whispered. “Been waiting a long time for this too.”
Interest flickered inside me at that moment, and that it had nothing to do with my cock, which was leaking pre-cum, was close to a fucking miracle. I looked up at her, and asked, “How long?”
She hummed. “Remember when you beat the shit out of Will Adams?”
My brow puckered. “The first or second time?” Dumb fuck hadn’t realized I meant what I said.
“The first.” She smiled at me. “I knew then I wanted you.”
“Hell, Ama,” I complained. “We were thirteen years old when he did that.”
Thanks to that cunt Sanchez, she had two bumps in her nose from where he’d broken it. Adams had decided to mock her for it, and I’d decided to mock him for it too—by giving him a matching set.
I’d broken that bastard’s nose three times over the years. Each time I’d snapped it, had felt it crumple beneath my fist, heard it crunch, had been music to my ears.
She shrugged. “Been wanting you since then. Ain’t gonna lie about that.”
I grunted. “I don’t want you to lie, not asking you to. Just saying, why didn’t you tell me?”
Her gulp warned me and I let her next words flow through me. Maybe a few days ago, I’d have gone on the defensive, but when I had her like this? How could I be anything other than grateful that she wanted me at all?
“Because I had feelings for Saint too. Ink as well. It was odd. I thought they were all just crushes, but they weren’t. I think, even then, I knew I loved you.” Her eyes turned distant, like she was back in the past rather than just thinking about it. “I remember watching all of you, craving your nearness with a fierce ache inside my chest. Whenever Ink went on a run, I thought I was dying, and then when Saint started going too? I felt sure I was…”
She blew out a breath and shook her head. “Silly, but true. I was a lot more vulnerable back then than I am now. Trust me, I know you guys think I’m made of glass now, but I’m not. Then, I was. I couldn’t have handled you rejecting me, and if you had said yes, I’d have felt guilty about wanting and needing Saint and Ink too.”
As I processed that, I realized how hard that must have been on her. To want something so unusual while being aware it was achievable because of her parents… yet not knowing if it was something she could ever have—a bittersweet torment all on its own.
Pressing a kiss to her belly, I murmured, “Think I knew I wanted you when I was six years old.” I