The
temperature in the kitchen had increased by many degrees and not all of them
were caused by the cooker.
Seb’s
back was to the counter, the edge digging into his waist. He had a smudge of
cranberry chutney on his nose. Jamie was only a step away from him, their eyes
locked on each other. They were both breathing more shallowly than earlier in
the evening. When Seb lifted a hand to wipe away the chutney, Jamie grasped his
wrist, not harshly, but the grip was firm.
"I'll
do that." With his free hand, he wiped the chutney gently off Seb’s nose.
Then his fingertip continued to trail down Seb’s cheek, under his jaw and then
along the lines of his throat.
Seb
groaned aloud, a soft growling sound from the back of his throat. His head went
back, baring his neck, and he swallowed heavily.
Jamie
dropped his hand, leaning in closer. "I mean . . . I want . . ."
"What?"
Seb's voice was just a whisper. "Say it."
"I
want you." Jamie's murmur breathed heat and sweet excitement into
Seb's ear. He sounded both shocked and thrilled, but then hadn’t that been his
permanent state, ever since he put an arm around Seb’s waist and pulled him in
for a proper, non-cranberry caress?
Seb
bit back a gasp. His body shivered. "How long, Jamie?" His words were
hoarse.
Jamie
watched the movement of Seb's mouth, the drop of sweat on his upper lip. He
thought he could watch it for hours. He’d never imagined quite how fascinating this vibrant man could
be! "What do you mean?"
"How
long have you wanted me?"
Jamie
smiled. That was an easy question. "For always, for too long. Have I said
the wrong thing again?" He realized he didn't care anymore. He knew he
spoke honestly and with care, the same as always. It was just that he was
finding new words and new expressions now—and Seb was listening to him too. "We’ve
never talked about these things; never stopped arguing long enough to discover
an alternative way of communicating. Do you find it offensive?"
"Offensive?"
Seb's laugh was a little shaky. "I've wanted you since you first
turned those icy eyes on me and told me to shut the hell up."
Jamie
frowned. "Those have never been my words."
Seb
grinned at the narrow wrinkle of concern on Jamie’s forehead. He had a mad, bad
and reckless urge to put his lips to it and kiss it away. Damned guy was too
literal! He was too pale, too, and it made the flush on his cheeks stand out
more boldly. But Jamie was strong enough to press back against Seb’s torso when
they shifted around, and it felt like both of them took their turn struggling
for dominance. He was also intuitive enough to know that if his fingertips
brushed at the crease of Seb’s jeans, just underneath his left buttock, Seb
would be tempted to whimper and roll over, playing dead like the best kind of
obedient pet.
How does he know me so well? Seb grinned at such a wild and happy
thought, and just kept grinning. Jamie felt good under his grasp and tasty on
his lips. When and how had he deserved this
Christmas present?