“Put your hands on my thighs, songbird.” I set my hands on his warm skin, and he flinches. “You’re cold,” he huffs, laughing quietly. “Sorry,” I squeak. “It’s okay.” He presses another kiss to my cheek, and this is the side of Jamie that’s the most dangerous. The sweet version of him. “Put your feet on mine.” I do, and he groans like he’s in pain. “Like ice,” he says, and I laugh. A little puff of air against my neck tells me he’s laughing, too.
