The second the flat door closed behind us, Jamie grabbed the front of my shirt and kissed me again.
Harder this time.
Not rushed exactly, but with this warm hungry confidence that immediately drove every coherent thought from my head.
I backed him instinctively against the hallway wall while my hands slid straight to his thighs again.
Those bloody tights.
Even through the patterned fabric I could feel the warmth of his legs beneath my palms, and Jamie made a soft pleased sound against my mouth the moment I touched him.
“There it is,” he murmured breathlessly. “Been thinking about these all night, haven’t you?”
“You know I have.”
Jamie laughed softly and tilted his head back against the wall as I kissed slowly down along his jaw.
His hands slipped beneath my shirt immediately, fingertips gliding over my stomach before spreading across my chest.
Then he paused.
“Oh my God,” he whispered dramatically. “You really did shave everything.”
I groaned into his shoulder. “Please let me die with dignity.”
“No chance.”
Jamie’s fingers moved teasingly over my smooth chest while he kissed me again, smiling against my mouth the entire time.
“You’re ridiculously soft now.”
“This was not the intended outcome.”
“I disagree, at least the carpet matches the curtains now"
I slid my hands higher along his thighs until my thumbs brushed the edge of the kilt and Jamie inhaled sharply against my lips.
That tiny reaction nearly finished me off by itself.
“Mark,” he breathed softly.
“What?”
“You’re doing the thing again.”
“What thing?”
“Looking at me like you can’t believe I’m real.”
The words hit me unexpectedly hard.
Because somewhere between the bowling and breakfasts and tourist days and tights and kisses, that had become true.
Jamie still felt slightly unreal to me
sometimes.
Like something too good had wandered accidentally into my life.
I kissed him slower then, softer this time.
Jamie melted into it instantly, one hand curling gently against the back of my neck while the other remained splayed warm across my chest.
The atmosphere shifted subtly after that.
Still passionate.
Still charged.
But gentler too.
More intimate.
Jamie eventually pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, both of us breathing slightly unevenly.
“You wanna see the tights properly then?” he asked quietly.
I laughed breathlessly. “That was absolutely never in doubt.”
Jamie grinned and took my hand.
Leading me toward the bedroom.
The soft lighting from the bedside lamp cast warm gold across the room while rain tapped faintly against the windows outside.
Jamie turned slowly toward me near the bed, fingers hooking lightly beneath the hem of his top.
“You know,” he said softly, “most men are far less emotionally affected by hosiery.”
“I’m aware this is becoming a personality trait.”
Jamie laughed warmly and stepped closer again until his hands rested lightly at my waist.
“Well,” he murmured, “I happen to find it very endearing.”
Then he kissed me once more, slow and deep and lingering, while my hands wandered helplessly back to his legs all over again.
Jamie reached to his kilt Jamie let go of my hand near the edge of the bed and stepped back slightly, watching me with that soft knowing expression that always made my stomach tighten.
“You are staring again,” he murmured.
“I physically cannot help it.”
Jamie laughed quietly under his breath.
Then, slowly, his fingers moved to the buckle of the kilt.
The movement alone nearly short-circuited me.
“You know,” he said casually while undoing it, “I spent an embarrassing amount of time deciding whether this outfit was too much.”
“Jamie,” I said weakly, “you could’ve worn a bin bag and I’d still be having a crisis.”
That made him grin properly.
The kilt loosened around his waist and Jamie let it slide slowly down his legs before stepping out of it casually.
And Christ alive.
The black diamond-patterned tights clung to his legs perfectly beneath the warm bedroom lighting, disappearing into the chunky ankle boots still somehow hanging on from earlier in the evening.
My brain completely stalled.
Jamie shifted his weight slightly beneath my stare, clearly enjoying every second of my suffering now.
“Well?” he teased softly, one eyebrow lifting. “Worth the psychological damage?”
I let out a slow breath.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Mhm.”
“And you absolutely planned this.”
“Also true.”
Jamie stepped closer again, one hand resting lightly against my chest while I instinctively reached for his hips.
The tights were somehow even worse up close.
Or better.
Dangerously better.
My palms slid slowly over his thighs while Jamie watched my face with open amusement.
“You really do love my legs,” he said quietly.
I looked up at him finally.
“Jamie, at this point I think they qualify as a medical condition.”
He laughed so suddenly and warmly that I found myself laughing too.
Then he leaned down and kissed me again, softer this time, one hand threading gently into my hair while my thumbs traced absent little patterns over the tights stretched along his thighs.
Jamie let go of my hand near the edge of the bed and stepped back slightly, watching me with that soft knowing expression that always made my stomach tighten.
“You are staring again,” he murmured.
“I physically cannot help it.”
Jamie laughed quietly under his breath.
Then, slowly, his fingers moved to the buckle of the kilt.
The movement alone nearly short-circuited me.
“You know,” he said casually while undoing it, “I spent an embarrassing amount of time deciding whether this outfit was too much.”
“Jamie,” I said weakly, “you could’ve worn a bin bag and I’d still be having a crisis.”
That made him grin properly.
The kilt loosened around his waist and
Jamie let it slide slowly down his legs before stepping out of it casually.
And Christ alive.
The black diamond-patterned tights clung to his legs perfectly beneath the warm bedroom lighting, disappearing into the chunky ankle boots still somehow hanging on from earlier in the evening.
My brain completely stalled.
Jamie shifted his weight slightly beneath my stare, clearly enjoying every second of my suffering now.
“Well?” he teased softly, one eyebrow lifting.
“Worth the psychological damage?”
I let out a slow breath.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Thanks darlin”
“And you absolutely planned this.”
“Also true.”
Jamie stepped closer again, one hand resting lightly against my chest while I instinctively reached for his hips.
The tights were somehow even worse up close.
Or better.
Dangerously better.
My palms slid slowly over his thighs while Jamie watched my face with open amusement.
“You really do love my legs,” he said quietly.
I looked up at him finally.
“Jamie, at this point I think they qualify as a medical condition.”
He laughed so suddenly and warmly that I found myself laughing too.
Then he leaned down and kissed me again, softer this time, one hand threading gently into my hair while my thumbs traced absent little patterns over the tights stretched along his thighs.
Jamie kissed me slowly while his hands drifted up beneath my shirt again, fingertips warm against my chest.
“You’re tense,” he murmured softly against my mouth.
“I’m trying very hard not to pass out.”
“That’s fair.”
He smiled and gently tugged at the hem of my overshirt.
“Can I?”
I nodded immediately.
Jamie slid the overshirt from my shoulders first, letting it fall carelessly somewhere onto the floor before his attention moved to the black t-shirt underneath.
There was something strangely intimate about the way he undressed me. No rush. No performance. Just warm hands and soft little glances upward every few seconds like he was checking I was still alright.
The shirt disappeared next.
Cool air brushed over my skin instantly and I became painfully aware again of my newly hairless chest.
Jamie’s expression immediately brightened with amusement.
“Oh, you really committed to this.”
“Please,” I groaned, “I’m begging you to let the shaving go.”
“Absolutely not.”
His fingertips drifted lightly over my stomach again and I shivered despite myself.
“That still feels strange,” I admitted.
Jamie smiled softly. “I like it.”
That stupidly simple sentence settled warmly somewhere deep in my chest.
My hands moved instinctively to the fitted black top Jamie was still wearing, slowly sliding upward along the soft fabric covering his waist.
“You’re overdressed,” I murmured.
Jamie laughed quietly. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Well.” He stepped back slightly. “Better fix that then.”
He peeled the black top off slowly, revealing smooth pale skin beneath the warm glow of the bedside lamp.
I stared helplessly for a second.
Jamie caught it immediately of course.
“There’s that look again.”
“What look?”
“The one where you seem emotionally overwhelmed by my existence.”
I stepped forward and kissed him before he could continue being smug about it.
Jamie melted against me instantly, laughing softly into my mouth while my hands wandered freely across his bare back now.
The contrast between his warm skin and the patterned tights still hugging his legs was honestly ruining me.
At some point my own jeans disappeared too, followed shortly afterward by Jamie’s boots being kicked carelessly across the room.
And suddenly there we were standing close together beside the bed in nothing but underwear and those bloody tights.
Jamie looked devastating.
Soft and beautiful and unfairly confident standing there beneath the low bedroom light while I stared openly now without even pretending otherwise.
“You know,” Jamie said quietly, stepping closer until our bodies brushed again, “most people don’t look this emotional over tights.”
“I think we’ve established I’m not handling this normally.”
Jamie smiled gently at that and slid his arms loosely around my neck.
“No,” he agreed softly. “But I think I like the way you handle me better.”
Jamie kissed me again as we stumbled gently backward toward the bed, both of us laughing quietly every time one of us bumped awkwardly into furniture.
“This is very seductive,” Jamie murmured against my mouth as my knee clipped the side of the mattress.
“I’m trying my best.”
“Mmm. Strong divorced dad energy.”
I groaned. “Cruel.”
Jamie grinned and pulled me down with him onto the bed before I could recover.
The mattress dipped beneath us and suddenly Jamie was ontop of me, tights tangled against my legs while his hands slid slowly up my smooth cheat.
For a moment we just stayed there kissing lazily beneath the soft bedroom light, warm and tangled together while rain tapped softly against the windows outside.
It felt different from before.
Less frantic.
More deliberate.
Like both of us were finally letting ourselves enjoy this properly instead of racing ahead of it.
Jamie’s fingers traced slowly over my shoulders and chest, occasionally smiling against my mouth every time I visibly reacted to being touched.
“You’re sensitive now,” he teased quietly.
“I blame you entirely for that.”
“Fair.”
I shifted slightly closer between his legs and Jamie inhaled softly when my hands slid back down over the patterned tights stretched along his thighs.
Honestly they were still driving me insane.
Every touch made my brain melt a little further.
Jamie watched my face carefully while I ran my palms slowly over his legs again.
“You really like these, don’t you?”
“You know I do.”
“Mmm.” Jamie’s lips curved warmly. “Good.”
I kissed him harder then, one hand settling
at his waist while the other kept drifting helplessly over the tights like I physically couldn’t stop touching them.
Jamie responded immediately, legs wrapping loosely around mine while his hands slid into my hair.
The kissing deepened slowly after that.
Long lingering kisses mixed with quiet laughter and soft touches and occasional pauses where we’d just look at each other for a second before inevitably kissing again.
At one point Jamie brushed his thumb lightly across my cheek and smiled softly up at me.
“You look happier lately.”
The words caught me slightly off guard.
But lying there tangled together with Jamie’s weight ontop of me and his soft voice warming the space between us, I realised he was right.
“I think I am,” I admitted quietly.
Jamie’s expression softened instantly.
Then he dipped down onto me for another slow kiss while his fingertips drifted lazily across my smooth chest again, both of us sinking deeper into the warmth of each other.
Jamie moved his hands to the waistband of those tights, sliding them easily down to reveal that cute arse.
He reached for a bottle of lube, and while kissing me hard, used his free hand to prepare himself, then sliding his lubed up hand to my rock hard cock.
As his soft petite hand wrapped around my shaft, I let out a moan. My hands still gripped to his thighs, I felt him position my cock, then slowly start to ease himself down onto me.
We'd had sex before, but that felt rushed. This felt tender, loving, and sexy as hell.
My hands moved up to Jamies hips as he slowly and expertly began riding me.
Shamefully I didnt last long. I blame the tights! That and the wild hip movements Jamie was using.
It was quick, passionate, and if I'm honest, probably the best I'd ever had. It just felt so right being together.
For a while neither of us said anything at all.
The room settled slowly around us again, filled only with uneven breathing and rain whispering softly against the windows outside.
I lay beside Jamie trying unsuccessfully to gather my thoughts while my heartbeat gradually stopped attempting to escape through my ribs.
Jamie, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself.
“You alright there?” he murmured softly, fingers lazily tracing circles against my stomach.
I let out a breathless laugh. “I think you may have permanently altered my brain chemistry.”
Jamie grinned immediately.
“Good.”
I turned onto my side properly then, pulling him closer against me.
Without the teasing and flirtation for a moment, with the adrenaline slowly fading away, what hit me most was the warmth of him.
The softness.
His hair messy against the pillow. Smudged eyeliner faintly lingering beneath tired eyes.
The little sleepy smile he gave me every time our eyes met again.
It all felt strangely intimate in a way I hadn’t expected.
Jamie shifted closer automatically, one leg tangling with mine beneath the duvet while his fingertips wandered slowly over my chest again.
“You know,” he murmured, “for someone who spent weeks panicking, you’re actually very good at this.”
I laughed quietly into the pillow. “I was panicking during most of it.”
“Mmm.” Jamie kissed me softly. “Couldn’t tell.”
The kiss lingered.
Slow.
Warm.
No urgency anymore.
Just comfort.
I brushed my hand gently through his hair while Jamie tucked himself closer against me, his head eventually settling beneath my chin.
And lying there holding him, listening to the quiet sounds of Edinburgh outside the flat, something settled deeply inside my chest.
Not panic.
Not confusion.
Something calmer than that.
Jamie tilted his head slightly to look up at me.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said softly.
But Jamie smiled anyway like he already knew.
Eventually he shifted around beneath the duvet until his back pressed fully against my chest, guiding my arm automatically around his waist.
“Better,” he murmured sleepily.
I laughed quietly and pulled him closer.
Spooning Jamie turned out to be dangerously nice.
Warm legs tangled with mine beneath the covers. Soft skin beneath my fingertips. The occasional sleepy little sigh every time I held him tighter.
My face buried instinctively against the back of his neck.
“This feels couple-y,” I mumbled drowsily.
Jamie laughed softly beneath the blankets.
“Well spotted, darlin.”
I smiled against his shoulder and pressed one last sleepy kiss there before exhaustion finally started dragging both of us under.
And for the first time in a very long time, falling asleep beside someone felt easy.
|
. I’m looking for a Jamie now 
