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.But here, now, he was simply still in this strange hovering way and his breathing was too fine and quiet.Both things made her want to nudge him or otherwise indicate that she knew he wasn’t really sleeping, but if she did, what then?Then he’d have to explain why he was pretending and the thought made her oddly nervous—in the same way thinking about the night before and why he might have remained in the living room made her nervous.People remained in living rooms when they didn’t want to intrude on something and that idea…well.It wasn’t pleasant.Only then he said I’m awake with his eyes closed, and it made her want to laugh at herself for being so silly.Why was she so nervous? It was Jamie.He understood.He got it.He wouldn’t let something like an I love you make him feel threatened.“Is Blake singing?” he asked.His incredulity was funnier because of his still closed eyes, but she wanted to see them, even so.Wanted to see that everything was okay, in his ever-sparking gaze.“Yeah.I think it’s…I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”“He’s good.He should think about opening up some nightclub someplace.”“Maybe call it Rotting Corpses? Or Everybody’s Dead, Let’s Dance?”He opened his eyes on that note—and they were just as full of life and utterly mesmerizing as they’d been before.Could have been that he’d never even been there, hearing her declare undying love to Blake.Could have been that it was like Blake said—he just didn’t mind.That he wanted what was best for everybody and not just himself.“That last one sounds like a hoot.You wanna party with me there, baby?”“Absolutely.I think I already am partying with you there.”His laugh was a faint sound, barely there at all.And as he made it, he turned onto his back, hair ruffling on the pillow as he went.Elbows pushing into the mattress, briefly, as though he had a crick he needed to work out.“Think all that fucking has murdered my back.How about you? You holding up? No feeling like a train ran through your vagina yesterday?”Her laugh was not so faint.And it had a hint of shocked, too, because man alive he could say some forthright things when he wanted to.Did he know that even the word vagina made her face heat? Probably.“I’m entirely train journey free.Thanks, though.”And it was true, too.She’d expected to feel sore and weird and fucked out, but all that remained was a pleasing hum between her legs at the memory.One that got louder when he looked at her with those sleepy eyes.Even when he turned his head as though listening to Blake belt out the chorus to Mack the Knife, she could still see those hooded lids and that smoky hint of dark blue.“He was something like that before, you know? A nightclub owner, I mean.He won’t tell me what, exactly, but I know he was real cool, a real hepcat.”She almost giggled over the use of the word hepcat, but the rest of his sentences wouldn’t let her.He sounded so wistful, somehow, and she couldn’t help thinking about Blake saying that Jamie just didn’t get it.He didn’t get how completely awesome he was in every conceivable way.He even seemed surprised when he turned back to her to say something—probably about how cool Blake still was, and how handsome his hair looked all the time, and how he hoped to grow up and be just like him—and she pressed her mouth to his before he could get it out.She felt him flinch as though she’d slapped instead of kissed.Everything they’d done, and he was flinching.And he didn’t seem to know what to do after the flinch was done with, either.He just laid very still and took it until she worked his mouth open with hers and gave him a little tongue.Then he responded.His hand went into her hair in that good forceful way he’d had the day before, and though she felt pretty sure that she tasted like sleep and old cat food, he pushed right back at her.Got into a mode that she could only describe as making out like teenagers—lots of hot, wet mouth sliding over hers.Lots of almost-sounds in there, and his tongue all slippery and good and teasing.That hum between her legs became an ache before he’d even gotten to the good stuff.When he suddenly flipped her onto her back she couldn’t find a word of protest in her.Who would protest over a thing like this? He kept himself off her, but she could still feel what she really hoped was his erection pressing against the outer edges of her right thigh.Plus—was that second base he was getting ready to round? Yeah, she felt pretty sure it was.He had a hand on her ribcage but it was moving steadily upward.By the time she’d started trying to rock against that possible erection, he had a handful of her left breast.Though saying handful didn’t really do it justice, because it implied squeezing and clumsiness and he was neither.He immediately went for the best possible thing he could have done, which turned out to be a kind of slow bringing together of his thumb and forefinger.And of course, they met around her already stiff nipple.Of course they did.He never did anything half-baked—it was always deliberate and sure with him, always aimed directly at some kind of pleasure center she hadn’t known she possessed.Her whole body practically clenched when he got a firm grip on that aching little bud.And he didn’t pull or twist or any of the things she was used to, either.He just sort of…plucked.Until she forgot that the word plucked ever meant anything ridiculous, and started thinking of it as the best word in the entire world [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]