Page 55 of Midnight Sun
Jamie’s cheeks are burning as he watches himself squirming in Finn’s hold. He watches himself losing control over his body, shaking uncontrollably and moaning with every flick of Finn’s wrist. Jamie wants to close his eyes, but seeing himself like this is like adding fuel to the fire and he just can’t look away. He meets Finn’s gaze and his Dom's fond, satisfied smile has Jamie finally squeezing his eyes shut. He throws his head back and comes in his pants. The orgasm washes over him like a tidal wave. Finn has to readjust his hold on him to prevent him from slumping to the floor.
“Now, that was a spectacular sight,” Finn hums against his neck. He takes in Jamie’s disheveled appearance. “The suit is ruined, though. Sorry for that.”
Jamie grumbles something unintelligible, not really sure what he’s trying to say. He’s too high on his orgasm to form coherent thoughts, and all he wants to do is to snuggle up against Finn and get some more of this glorious skin to skin contact.
Finn guides him down on the chair and unbuttons Jamie’s rumpled shirt. He helps him out of the ruined pants and underwear next, and guides him into the shower. Jamie sighs in relief as Finn steps inside with him and turns a warm spray on. Finn holds him upright and gently washes sweat and come from Jamie’s lax body.
“I love how out of it you are after you come,” Finn mumbles. “I love when you’re so eager to be cuddled.”
Jamie smiles softly and nuzzles Finn’s throat. He won’t tell Finn that feeling almost drugged after sex is something completely new to him, as is the desire to be close to his partner. Jamie’s previous experiences with post-coital intimacy are reduced to dutifully checking if his subs are all right to be left alone or want to share a quick cigarette, to more or less awkward silence.
“Do you still want to go to Hrafna’s party?” Finn asks. “We can always cancel.”
“Hrafna will have our heads if we fail to show up.”
Finn smirks. “I don’t know what Halldór and you have with Hrafna. We can say I have a migraine or something. She’ll understand.”
“You? A migraine?” Jamie laughs incredulously.
Finn just shrugs. “Why not?”
Jamie suspects the warm feeling that spreads through his chest is only partly due to the hot shower. “No,” he says finally. “I want to see the crew, and if we don’t like it, we can leave after an hour or two. You okay with that?”
Finn kisses him without hurry. “Deal.”
They take their time showering, kissing languidly. Finn towels him off afterward with soft touches and Jamie feels like his senses are slowly waking up again. Strangely enough, he’s looking forward to the party, and the knowledge that Finn is happy to leave again whenever Jamie pleases makes him only feel better.
“Here, put that on.” Jamie gestures toward the suit he brought, delighting in Finn’s eye roll. “This isn’t an event for jeans and t-shirts.”
“Fine. I’ll dress up if it makes you feel good.”
“You better do.”
Jamie leaves the bathroom to hunt for another suit. He goes through the part of the wardrobe Finn freed for Jamie’s clothes and pulls out a dark blue and a lighter gray suit. Unable to decide just yet, Jamie goes aimlessly through his clothes as a metallic sparkle catches his eye. He frowns and kneels down to inspect the bottom of the wardrobe. He wouldn’t have seen the small object sitting in a crack if it hadn’t reflected the light. Jamie pulls the object out of its hiding place. He can immediately tell it’s a ring, and he smiles as he realizes it must be Finn’s and he probably thought it was lost.
Jamie holds the ring against the light and his heart stops. It’s a signet ring, an engraved ruby in a golden setting. Jamie realizes with detached curiosity that his hands are trembling. He knows this piece of jewelry. He had worn it for years. But this can’t be. His grandfather’s ring went missing when Jamie still lived in Beverly Hills. He didn’t know Finn back then.
Cold sweat is making Jamie’s fresh shirt already uncomfortable. He can’t believe his eyes, but it’s clearly his grandfather’s ring. It even has the small dent Jamie left in the gold by carelessly handling it. He still remembers how his father yelled at him for ruining the family’s heirloom. Jamie’s thoughts are swirling, his stomach twisted in knots. Does all of this mean Finn is the one behind everything? The police were never able to confirm that Edmonton was working alone. The fingerprints on the photo Finn brought back from the Highlands weren’t his. Could Jamie have been so wrong about Finn? He feels his throat constricting and tears springing to his eyes. He doesn’t know which way is up anymore. He needs time to think.
Finn is still rummaging around in the bathroom. Jamie grabs his phone and wallet and runs.
He doesn’t realize he’s crying until the veil of tears clouding his eyes makes it impossible to see. His steps have brought him back to the hotel where he spent the first night in Reykjavík. It’s probably not a good place to choose if he really needs to hide from Finn, but he doesn’t know where else to go.
Jamie stumbles inside the suite, glad for once that his management booked it for the entire length of his stay and then a few more weeks, just to be prepared. He enters the living room and pours himself a generous glass of whiskey. He’s uncomfortably reminded of the day when Finn came to fetch him for their trip into the Highlands. It seems like years ago. Since then, Finn has uprooted Jamie’s life. Could that have been the plan all along? Jamie stares out over the city with unseeing eyes. Could Finn have planned something like this? Could he have made Jamie susceptible to his manipulations by stalking him, scaring him so much that he gratefully let Finn into his life? It felt so natural, so right. Did Finn enchant Jamie so he suddenly went against his preferences?
Jamie’s stomach clenches and he feels like his legs might give out under him. He sinks heavily into a plush armchair.
“Sir?”
Jamie flinches and looks up at Peter standing in the doorway. Peter closes the distance between them, crouching down in front of Jamie. He looks worried. Jamie feels hot tears spring to his eyes. He wants to be alone. He needs to think and he surely doesn’t want to pour out his heart to Peter of all people, but his resolve crumbles as Peter puts a tentative hand to his knee. He’s so confused right now.
“What’s wrong, sir?”
Jamie chokes on a sob. Peter’s touch is hot against his skin even through the fabric of his trousers. It feels strangely comforting, compelling Jamie to answer against his instinct that tells him to refuse.
“Have you heard about the stalker? You must have noticed something.”
Peter nods.