Jamie formed faint whimpers.
Spencer neared exploding, then came inside the condom. “Oh, Jamie. Jamie. Jamie.”
The warmth of his cum ignited Jamie into shooting, spurt after spurt in Spencer’s hand.
“Shit! You made me feel so good.” Jamie collapsed facedown on the sheets, panting with the aftershocks of his orgasm with Spencer resting alongside him. Spencer turned Jamie over on his back and kissed him hard on the lips. His tongue entered Jamie’s mouth, their kiss completing their intense moments together as one.
“You’re perfect for me, sweetie.” Spencer pulled away from Jamie’s lips. Sweat dripped from his hair down his face.
“No one has ever said I was perfect.” Jamie pushed his hair away from his eyes.
“That’s because we’re perfect for each other.”
“Daddy Spencer, thanks for making me feel real again. I’ve never had sex before like we had. It felt like you were making love to me. It was deeper than just fucking.”
Spencer nodded. “It’s because I want you. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you.” Spencer pulled Jamie closer,holding him tight. “You feel so good in my arms, and you’re right. What we did tonight was more than fucking.”
“I want to stay right here with you.” Jamie apparently didn’t want to move away from the comfort of Spencer’s hug.
“Me too.” Spencer kissed Jamie.
Jamie’s hands were wrapped around his back, not clutching or pulling, but holding, as if anchoring him.
“You’re so damn strong,” Jamie whispered again, his voice tender with feeling, and the words enfolded around Spencer’s heart, giving him a strength he never knew he possessed.
Their climax hadn’t been a frantic race, but a slow, rising tide that washed over them both, one after the other, in a wave of shuddering, quiet release. It was less an explosion and a more blooming, a final, perfect unfurling of the tenderness that had been building between them all evening. He removed his condom and used tissues from the bedside table to wipe both of them.
After the last tremors from Jamie subsided, Spencer didn’t pull away. He carefully gathered Jamie into his arms, holding him close, their limbs tangled, their skin damp and warm. He pressed a kiss to Jamie’s sweat-dampened temple, his heart so full he thought it might break from the sheer, expansive joy of it.
Chapter Fifteen
Jamie
Jamie woke up wrapped in Daddy Spencer’s arms, the soft rhythm of his breathing brushing against the back of his neck. The silence in the cabin waited in place as if the world had paused just for them. Daddy Spencer’s arm lay across Jamie’s waist in the best way. Protective. Anchoring.
Jamie didn’t move. He didn’t want to. He just lay there, soaking in the warmth and the quiet, letting it remind him of everything that had happened the night before. He didn’t know exactly what this was yet, but it felt good. It felt real. Like something he hadn’t dared to hope for.
It hadn’t just been sex. It had been slow, tender, and full of things Jamie hadn’t known he was allowed to feel. Daddy Spencer had touched him like he mattered. Like he was wanted, not just in the moment, but in the serene following. Every kiss, every whispered word had said, you belong here, louder than anything Jamie had ever heard.
And Jamie had let himself believe it. Just for a little while.
Now, in the soft light of morning, he felt the ache of it. Not regret—never that. But fear. A tinge of worry that this might betemporary. Daddy Spencer would go back to Montana, back to his ranch and his lonely life, and Jamie would be left behind with nothing but memories and a stuffed puppy.
He turned his head slightly, just enough to see Daddy Spencer’s face—peaceful, relaxed, like he hadn’t slept that well in years. Jamie’s heart squeezed. What if I’m just a moment to him? What if I’m not enough to stay?
But then he remembered the way Daddy Spencer had looked at him last night when Jamie had to call him Daddy Spencer. The way he’d held Jamie afterward, like he was something precious. Jamie was precious in Daddy Spencer’s world, and he never wanted that to change.
Jamie reached down and gently laced his fingers with Daddy Spencer’s, breathing in the scent of flannel and pine and something that felt like home.
He didn’t know what would happen when the snow melted and the party ended, and Daddy Spencer packed his bags. But right now, in this tranquil cabin, wrapped in Daddy Spencer’s arms, Jamie was wanted.
And that was something. That was everything.
After a lazy shower filled with warm water and a sleepy smile, Jamie padded barefoot across the cabin floor, wrapped in one of Daddy Spencer’s oversized flannel shirts. The scent of cedar lingered in the air, and the snow outside dusted the windows like powdered sugar. Daddy Spencer sat on the edge of the couch, towel still around his waist, guitar resting comfortably in his lap like it belonged there.
He strummed a few chords, humming something soft and familiar—an old tune Jamie couldn’t quite place. Then, without warning, Daddy Spencer sang.
It wasn’t loud or showy. Just his voice, low and steady, wrapping around the lyrics like a blanket. A love ballad. The kind that talked about finding someone when you weren’t looking,about quiet mornings and holding hands in the dark. Jamie sat down slowly, heart thudding, watching Daddy Spencer’s fingers move across the strings like he’d done it a thousand times.
