Games Untold (The Inheritance Games #5)

The Morning After

The Morning After

J ameson’s hand cupped my shoulder. My fingers hovered over the box of bandages until his wrapped back around to my shoulder blade. Jameson didn’t turn me to face him, but I turned, unable to do anything else, my shoulders squared to his, the bandages on the counter forgotten.

My arm fell to my side, and he brought his other hand up to my other shoulder. Under Jameson’s touch, my shirt felt paper-thin, like the fabric was as insubstantial as smoke.

Like there was nothing separating my skin from his touch at all.

I felt Jameson’s hands make their way beneath my hair, which was hanging loose down my back. Those hands pushed up to my neck. My breath hitched as Jameson’s fingers went up farther—past my hairline, into my hair.

Jameson’s fingers curled, grasping my hair, tilting my chin up. I met his eyes, and what I saw there made it that much harder to breathe.

Need. Jameson didn’t need me to worry about him. He needed this . Brutally. Desperately.

His thumbs worked their way forward to trace the lines of my jaw. And then, suddenly, his hands were tracing their way down my front, past my collarbone.

A promise. A hint. A beckoning.

“No.” I found my voice. It came out strong, low, rough.

Jameson stopped the instant I said the word no . Before he could even think about stepping back, I brought my hands to his neck, pulling his body even closer to mine. I traced his jaw. There was rough stubble along his jawline, and the feel of it under my touch was almost enough to make me forget that Jameson had a secret.

“Yes.” Jameson gave me his consent, his voice lower even than mine, hoarser.

I rose on my toes, and Jameson leaned forward until our foreheads touched. My back arched, and so did his, putting just enough space between our torsos for my hands to continue to work the way down the front of his body.

“Your hair still smells like smoke,” I murmured. But he was here. He was fine. He didn’t want me to ask him anything.

He didn’t want me to call Tahiti .

I let my mind linger on the word I wasn’t saying as I felt his pulse jump beneath my touch. I searched his eyes. What happened to you?

Jameson said nothing, and I reached for the bandages once more.