chapter 13

Chapter 13

Mia was sprawled on her bed like a tragic heroine. Face buried in her pillow, legs kicking softly, back arched like her soul had left the chat. Her room smelled like vanilla and chaos, and somewhere in the corner, Luna the cat looked personally offended by her energy.

She rolled onto her back with a dramatic sigh and stared at the ceiling like it owed her answers.

Because Jamie had texted her again.

And not just any text. A selfie.

Hair messy. Shirtless. Eyes sleepy. Morning sun catching the angle of his jaw. That subtle smirk on his lips like he knew what he was doing. Like he wanted her brain to short circuit. And the caption?

"Wish you were here"

Just that. Five words. But they slapped harder than any thirst trap she'd ever seen in her life.

She screamed into her pillow. Again. Second time this morning.

Her phone buzzed. She didn't even look. She just hit call. Because there was only one person she could emotionally bleed on without judgment.

Zach picked up on the second ring, his voice already dramatic.

"Let me guess. Jamie sent a picture and now you're ovulating through your ears?"

Mia groaned like he'd just read her soul. "He said 'wish you were here' and sent a half-naked selfie. Zach. I am not okay."

"Oh my god. He's trying to kill you."

"I know! Like how am I supposed to function as a person?"

"Babe, you're not. You're supposed to text back and seduce him until he forgets how to spell."

Mia sat up, clutching a pillow to her chest. "Okay but like… what does seduction look like in my world? Do I quote Taylor Swift lyrics and wear a slutty dress?"

"Yes. Absolutely. Seduce that man using the power of crop tops and chaotic feminine energy. You are the main character. Use that power."

She paced now, full on spiraling. "He said he wanted to see me tonight. Movie night at his place. That's a trap, right? Like a sexy trap?"

Zach gasped. "Mia. That man is literally begging you to sit on his lap and whisper plot twists in his ear while your thighs brush his."

"WHAT"

"I am correct."

She dropped onto her bed again. "Do I bring snacks? Lube? A whip?"

"Yes. All three. But also babe… just be you. But hotter. Touch him more. Let your laugh linger. Look at his lips when he talks. You know he's obsessed with you. Just give him permission to be feral."

Mia bit her lip, suddenly imagining Jamie's hands in her hair again. The way he touched her that night in the bookstore like she was both sacred and sinful. The little sound he made when she kissed his neck. The way his breath had hitched when she moaned his name.

Yeah. He was already feral.

She just had to unlock the full beast.

Later that Night jamie's Apartment

(Jamie's POV)

Jamie had one job. Open the door. Let Mia in. Be normal.

But when that door swung open and he saw her standing there? Normal left the building.

She stood in the hallway like a damn fever dream. That dress that dress wrapped around her like a second skin. He didn't even know fabric could be that disobedient. Thin spaghetti straps holding on for dear life. Bright butterfly wings stretched across her hips and chest, almost like they were trying to escape. And that slit? The slit on her thigh was criminal. Straight-up illegal. His mouth went dry. His brain went offline.

"Mia," he breathed. "Holy sh*"

"Hi," she chirped, casually, like she wasn't committing emotional arson on his doorstep. Like she hadn't just walked out of every single one of his daydreams wearing something that made sin look like a lifestyle.

"You're trying to kill me," he said, half laughing, fully struggling.

She shrugged like it was nothing. "Zach made me wear it."

Jamie stared. "Tell Zach I owe him my soul. Or a hitman. I haven't decided yet."

Mia walked in slow, like she knew exactly what she was doing, her fingers brushing the frame of his doorway, her hips swaying like temptation in human form. That slit kept revealing dangerous amounts of leg. She left behind a trail of warm sugar and something floral, and Jamie's self-control crumbled like week-old cookies.

She sat on his couch and crossed her legs like she was posing for a centerfold. The dress hiked up higher and Jamie made a noise half grunt, half prayer. He shut the door without looking because if he looked any longer, he was gonna forget how doors worked.

He turned and leaned against it, staring like an idiot. "This is not safe," he muttered.

Mia gave him a look, all coy innocence dipped in fire. "You gonna come sit or just stand there catching flies with your mouth?"

He walked over slow. Like approaching a wild animal. Like one wrong move and she might pounce. And God, he wanted her to pounce.

He sat next to her on the couch, keeping a sliver of space between them because that dress had him in survival mode.

"You look…" he cleared his throat. "Insane. In the best way. Like I need to sit on my hands so I don't ruin that dress."

Her eyes glittered. "What if I don't mind it getting ruined?"

Jamie's breath caught. He turned his head slowly, like he needed to confirm she actually said that.

Mia smiled. "What?"

"You can't say stuff like that and expect me to behave."

"I don't want you to behave."

Oh.

Oh.

Game over.

He was fully hard and trying not to make it obvious, but his jeans were snitching. Mia leaned closer, one hand lazily tracing the seam of the cushion between them.

"You're quiet," she said, voice low and honey-sweet. "Thinking dangerous thoughts?"

He gave her a sharp look. "You wore that and sat here like that and now you wanna ask if my thoughts are dangerous? Mia. I've rewritten this scene in my head a thousand times and not one version was this tame."

"Then fix it."

He blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm tired of pretending I don't want you."

Jamie's fingers twitched.

His mouth was on hers before he realized he was moving. And she met him halfway, soft and sweet and starving. Her hands on his chest, his neck, threading through his curls and tugging just enough to break something loose in him.

He kissed her like he was trying to memorize the shape of her lips. Like he'd waited years for this moment. His hand slid to her bare thigh and she made a sound a soft gasp that sent heat rushing through his veins.

"Mia," he breathed against her mouth. "Tell me to stop if it's too much."

She shook her head, eyes wide and glassy. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

That was all the permission he needed.

He kissed down her jaw, her throat, sucking softly at the spot just below her ear. Her back arched, one leg lifting to straddle him. The dress rode up dangerously high and he could feel the heat of her against him, barely-there fabric between them.

She was whispering his name like a secret prayer, her nails digging into his shoulders, hips rolling against him in slow torturous movements. He groaned into her skin, his hands gripping her waist.

The dress might not survive this night. And neither would he.

Mia pulled back just a little, breathless and flushed.

"You sure?" she whispered.

Jamie looked at her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes dark and full of want, her body trembling in his lap.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."