Once Finn withdrew in a long, slow pull and Jaime wobbled back down off his tip-toes onto unsteady legs, Finn’s cum slipping down the backs of his thighs, they stayed there, fingers tangled together as they exchanged wet, filthy kisses.
Long hours later,well after dark, they lay wrapped around each other before the fire and listened to the chilly spring rain patter on the roof.
Jaime peppered Finn with questions about all of the paranormal people in Silver Rapids, completely fascinated.
“I knew there was something up with that Jared guy at the bookstore!” Jaime exclaimed, twisting in Finn’s arms. “He’s definitely a paranormal, right?”
Finn chuckled. “Yes, he’s a bear shifter. Polar bear, actually. Guy’s a loner and doesn’t really talk much to other people, buthe’s always been kind to me. He just doesn’t take to strangers very well.”
Jaime hummed. “And Andi? I want to meet her properly, now. No wonder her food is so delicious, it’s literally magic.”
Finn chuckled again and agreed, and wondered aloud if she’d be more inclined to share her culinary secrets with Jaime instead of him.
Silence stretched between them, comfortable and familiar. Finn lightly traced the tips of his claws up and down the soft underside of Jaime’s arms in soothing strokes, just the way he liked, and Jaime knew that he wanted every night to feel like this, for the rest of his life.
Forever.
He turned his face toward Finn, pressing his cheek into the meat of his shoulder. “Finn?”
“Hmm?” Finn looked like he’d been dozing, but he cracked one eye open to look at Jaime.
“Why haven’t you bitten me yet? I mean, why haven’t we tried to,you know,while you’re shifted?”
The sleepy daze fell away from his face, and Finn propped them both up a little straighter before answering, a smirk slashed across his face. “You’ve had my cock inside of you every which way, and you’re calling sexyou know? I’ve seen what you read baby, don’t be shy.”
Jaime glared, blush sitting high on his cheeks. “Fine. Why haven’t youfuckedme, knotted me, bitten me, and claimed me yet? I think I’m more than ready to take you,” he sniffed, chin lifted.
Sweet delight shot through him as he saw the effect of his words on Finn, eyes going hazy for an entirely different reason, now. He shook his head as if to clear it, the move so lupine that Jaime snickered, but he saw Finn sober before he replied.
“First, you’re going to need far more prep than you usually let me get to before I knot you. Second… I want to. And I know you want to, too. It’s not doubt, I promise.”
He paused, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind Jaime’s ear. “When we take that step, I don’t want it to be clouded by the fear and uncertainty we are in now. I want us both to be clear headed, in a home that we make ours. When we’re both old and gray, I want to look back and remember all the love and happiness that we felt when I finally claim you, not those Salt Creek assholes.”
Jaime smiled, leaning into his touch and opened his mouth to say that he agreed, but the shrill chime of the ringing phone cut him off.
So far, they had only communicated with Sheppard and Silas through text message on the secure line, and it was too late for this to be a casual check-in. Looking like his thoughts were similarly skewed, Finn reached over Jaime and snagged the phone off of the coffee table and answered, putting it on speaker.
“Sheppard, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”
The line crackled and his voice was a bit tinny as Sheppard replied, “Is Jaime there with you?”
Looking even more alarmed, Finn tightened the arm still banded around his shoulders. “Yes.”
Sheppard gave a relieved sigh, which sent Jaime’s heart racing. Focusing on keeping his breathing steady, Jaime said, “I’m here, Sheppard. What’s going on?”
“Bishop escaped. He was being transported to the courthouse for a pre-trial hearing this afternoon and the van crashed. He’s in the wind.”
Jaime couldn’t feel his body. Finn shot up off of the couch and began pacing, hurling questions at Sheppard that Jaime didn’t hear.
He could feel the walls closing in around him, the pull and bite of the bindings around his wrists and the gag making it hard to breathe. Sucking in great heaving breaths, he tried to move, to do something as he stared at the unmoving, dead eyes of Vera while she lay in a pool of her own blood. Hands scrambling, he tried to close the wound on her stomach, tried to put everything back inside where it should be, but he kept slipping and getting stuck in all of the blood covering him, gluing his hands and feet to the floor as he heard the approaching footsteps behind him, getting closer, closer, a dark shape looming in his periphery, before?—
“Jaime, baby. Hey, shh. It’s ok. Let’s breathe together, yeah?”
The voice was different from Jackson Bishop’s. A lower timber. He’d heard it before, had followed it out of the dark before.
It was safety.
Jaime swam back up to that voice, letting it guide him through the exercises from the pamphlet until he could open his eyes, until his breathing slowed enough to lift his head from where he’d curled tight into himself.
