Curling up on him is becoming so natural, and I can't say I'm mad about the trajectory of our relationship. If only there weren't two complicating factors. But Nate and Ellis aren't here right now, so this can be as simple as I want it to be.
I'm just a woman being comforted by the man who owns a part of her heart.And it's okay. It's okay because I know I'll never do anything to hurt Jamie, and pushing him away would go against my silent vow to protect him. Once my heart has calmed, I offer him a bit of my trauma.
"I was reliving a mixture of when we found out Mom was missing, and how I felt when I was mugged."
Jamie tenses and hugs me closer. "Fuck, Sweets. We haven't really talked about the mugging, have we? I'm so sorry."
I'm a little confused about why he's apologizing, butI don't want to get into it right now. Our birthday is tomorrow, and I'd rather not drag us down. "Can we talk about it later? I don't want to rehash everything right now."
"Of course." Jamie is quick to agree and allow me time to process. I appreciate his maturity in knowing when to push me and when to let me be. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep?"
I sigh, knowing it's unlikely. "I'm not sure. You can head home, though. You know, if you want." My tone sounds sad and small, like I don't actually want him to leave. Which is true. Maybe if I weren't so frazzled by the nightmare, I'd be kicking him out and feeling horrified by the fact that he's seeing my depressing bedroom.
"I'm not leaving you," Jamie declares firmly. "Which has multiple meanings again, but for now I'll just say I'm not going anywhere until I know you're okay tonight."
I should tell him that I'm fine and he doesn't need to stay, but damn it feels good to have him here. "Okay," I whisper and wiggle on his lap.
A rumbly sound vibrates through his chest, and I gasp when he slips a finger through the side of my panties. "First, let’s take care of your restlessness, hmm?"
I'm pretty sure I was about to say something in response or feel embarrassed about only wearing one of his T-shirts that I stole last week with a pair of bright purple cotton underwear, but everything flees from my mind when his thumb brushes over my clit.
"Jamie," I gasp, arching and spreading my thighs for him so easily.
He shushes me and presses his lips to the top of my head. "Just relax, my love."
My toes curl, and the stretch of the fabric accommodating Jamie's hand heightens my arousal. Just that slight bite of pain along with his finger dipping into my pussy has me thrusting against his expert touch.
"So wet, V. You're doing so well. Breathe in and hold it," he commands so gently I have no issue obeying when he's being so sweet. "Good girl. Now feel your little clit pulse against my thumb. And as I enter your tight cunt, suck me in just a little.Goood."
The breath in my lungs begins to burn, but I'm quickly forgetting the need to breathe as my desire trumps all other bodily functions. His fingers slip and glide inside and outside of me, bringing me to the edge. The encouragement and praise make my lips tingle with the urge to kiss him or express my love for him.
Just as I feel like I'm about to burst, I clench my pussy at the same time Jamie curls a finger against my walls. "Now breathe out, Violet. Now. Breathe for me, my love. Come for me."
My exhale tumbles out of me with a choked cry. Every muscle in my body tightens as if struck by lightning which sends white dancing across my eyesight. Then my whole body slumps with a wave of exhaustion and satisfaction.
"Sweet girl...you sleep now," Jamie murmurs. He moves a little and covers us with my big comforter. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere."
I really hope he means that because I know when I wake up in the morning, my first instinct will be to reach for him. So as I let sleep claim me, I clutch him just a little tighter. Just in case.
Thirty-Two
JAMIE
Ihave never been so at peace in my entire life. After so many years, I finally get an inside view of who Violet is.
Except what I'm seeing isnother. I think her bland bedroom has been her attempt to block out everything she used to be. There are signs of the bubbly part of her that has slipped through though.
Purple comforter, purple robe, purple panties...Violet definitely had a hard time completely locking herself away. There are small pops of color, but what really stands out are the excessive stacks of notebooks she has on her dresser and on the floor near her bed. She's even using one stack as a makeshift nightstand.
Oh how I fucking itch to crack them open and see if she's used them all. There's one on the actual nightstand beside me with a pen marking a page near the center that really intrigues me.
It's beautiful. White and purple with flowersdecorating it.What does she write about?Are they journals? Windows into her soul?
The early morning sun highlights my woman sleeping soundly in her bed. I may be beneath the covers with Violet, but I haven't done more than snuggle her and jump awake every so often to check on her.
When Cassidy called me at half past midnight last night, my heart about beat out of my chest. I was already up and tugging my clothes on to get to Violet. There was no doubt in my mind that Cassidy's call had to do with V.
On the speedy drive over here, I kept replaying Cassidy's description of Violet's nightmare.Thrashing around, crying, screaming, gasping, not being able to wake her up.
