Lifers

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “Jordan,” she groaned.

  God, hearing her say my name like that.

  I circled her, around and around, feeling her body shiver and tremble, touching, teasing, tasting.

  When I flicked my tongue again, two, three, four times, she shuddered and moaned, her volume increasing with every thrust of my tongue. Seven, eight, nine times…

  Yup, girl was a screamer.

  Panting and glowing, she shook her hair from her face and slowly moved back down the bed, until her sweet ass was level with my hips.

  “Your turn,” she said. “And my turn again.”

  I grabbed a condom from the bedside cabinet and passed it to her.

  “I’m going to miss these,” she said, looking down at the small, foil packet. “I think it’s the anticipation.”

  “Miss what, sweetheart?”

  She tossed the condom back onto the table.

  “We don’t need them anymore, baby.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “What are you tellin’ me?”

  “While you were … off limits. I got tested and got the all-clear for everything. I’m on the pill so … no more condoms.”

  Then she lowered herself onto me, smiling as I cried out softly.

  I could feel so much more. I’d never, never gone bare before. There was so much sensation, and the heat around me nearly tipped me over the edge. I had to grit my teeth and concentrate. She felt so soft and tight and silky, and it was like every detail was more intense.

  I could tell she was feeling it, and the increased friction was working for her, too.

  She continued her sweet torture for another hour, taking her pleasure out of my body as she rode me again and again, until we were both satisfied. Every part of me hurt, and it was so fucking worth it.

  As the sweat cooled on our bodies, we lay together, listening to the sound of each other breathing, listening to the music playing softly in the background, listening to the crickets outside our window.

  “You okay?” she asked, her voice languid and soft with love.

  “Yeah. Really good.”

  She sighed happily. “I can’t think of one single, solitary thing that would make this moment better right now.”

  I trailed my fingers across the soft skin of her stomach. “Just one thing, sweetheart—the day you say yes when I ask you to marry me.”

  She stilled for a second, but she didn’t argue. I smiled to myself.

  Life was good.

  Torrey

  I was soooo looking forward to tonight. Jordan wasn’t.

  He’d tried every whichway to beg off, but I wasn’t taking no for an answer. I’d been looking forward to this for a long, long time.

  I looked at the new clothes I’d bought for him, still lying untouched on the bed where I’d laid them out an hour ago.

  I’d never seen Jordan wear anything other than Mikey’s old shirts, or the secondhand clothes Gloria had found at Goodwill. But tonight was our special night, and he deserved something new.

  I may have also splurged on a dress in a dark sapphire. I knew he liked that color on me. He said it matched my eyes. It was rather demure at the front, having a high sweetheart neckline, cap sleeves and a skirt that rested just above my knees. But the back was something else, slashed to the waist, hardly there at all really, and revealing a lot of bare back. Which meant, of course, that I couldn’t wear a bra with it. Yep, he’d go insane. I was counting on it.

  I’d also gone to town on the makeup; smoky eye shadow that made my eyes look huge, lashings of mascara, and dark cherry lipstick that I planned for Jordan to kiss off of me later.

  I stared down at the black jeans and plain v-neck t-shirt, also black, that I’d bought for him. My man always looked hot, but tonight he was going to look smokin’.

  Although right now he was pissing me the hell off.

  I marched down hall to the bathroom and banged on the door.

  “Get your ass out here now! You’re not getting out of this so just suck it up. You’ve got one minute before I come in there and kick your ass.”

  He grumbled something that I couldn’t hear, probably just as well.

  I’d counted to 47 when the bathroom door swung open and he walked out, his skin sparkling from the drops of water dewing across his body.

  My eyes were drawn automatically to his broad chest, ridged stomach and low hanging towel, before traveling back up his tatted arms and shoulders, across his chest again, to his freshly shaven cheeks, where I finally met his amused gaze.

  He raised one eyebrow, his lips curling in a devilish smile.

  “Like what you see, sweetheart?”

  Oh yeah, I really did.

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “I know what you’re doing, and standing there looking as tasty as prime rib isn’t going to work. We’re going out to have F.U.N!”

  “You sure about that, sweetheart?” he asked, dropping his left hand to the front of the towel and cupping himself.

  I bit back a groan. He was just one big slice of wickedness.

  “Jordan!” I whined. “I want to go out! It’s been so long. Please do this for me, for us.”

  He sighed and looked down. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  I stepped forward to hold his face gently. “Don’t be sorry, baby. It’ll be okay. We’re going to have a lovely meal, go dancing, and make love ‘til dawn. Just like you said you wanted to. Besides, Bev and Pete are going to be there … well, not for the last bit, obviously.”

  He managed a small smile.

  “Yeah, I’m being a total pussy. Just cain’t help bein’ a lil’ nervous, ya know?”

  I smiled and planted a kiss on his soft lips.

  “The worst that can happen is that you see that I’ve got two left feet and leave me for a woman who dances like Cheryl Burke.”

  He shook his head.

  “I have no idea who that is, sweetheart, but there’s no way she could be more beautiful than you.”

  “Good answer, cowboy. Now get your cute ass into the bedroom and get dressed!”

  He smiled and winked, then strolled down the hallway dropping his towel just before he turned into the bedroom.

  Ooh, maybe just a quick… No! No! No! Food… Dancing… Sex later.

  God, I hoped I was making the right decision.

  He emerged a few minutes later fully dressed. The t-shirt molded to his chest and the jeans advertised his fabulous, taut, toned ass.

  “Um, I think you bought a size too small, Torrey,” he said, looking desperately uncomfortable. “The shirt and pants are great but … kind of tight. I really appreciate what you’re tryin’ to do for me but maybe I’d better change and…”

  “Don’t you dare change a thing, Jordan Kane!” I barked. “The clothes are a perfect fit. Every woman within a ten mile radius will be unable to keep her hands to herself.”

  “I don’t know…” he mumbled.

  “Luckily, I do.” I walked forward and ran my fingers freely over his chest and waist, before finally pushing my hands into his back pockets. “See? Just perfect.”

  He blew out a breath. “Just so long as you think so,” he said.

  I kissed him quickly. “Come on. I can’t wait to show you off.”

  I led the way down the stairs and heard the breath hitch in his throat when he got an eyeful of my backless dress.

  “Christ, Torrey!”

  “You like?” I asked, grinning at him over my shoulder.

  “Um, yeah?” he said, hesitantly.

  My smile fell. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

  His voice was choked when he replied.

  “Hell, yeah, but sweetheart I really don’t want to get into a fight tonight.”

  “We’re not fighting,” I said, sucking my teeth in irritation. “You’re just being a grump.”

  He smirked back at me. “Not fightin’ with you! Some guy is gonna look at you wrong and I’ll have to rearrange his face, that’s all.”
r />   “Oh, if that’s all, no problem. I’ll protect you, cowboy.”

  He shook his head, holding back a grin. “I’ll keep you to that.”

  Gloria and Paul were sitting watching TV in the family room as we left.

  “Have fun, you two,” Paul said, and Gloria offered a small smile.

  Jordan just nodded at them so it was left to me to do the civility thing again.

  “Thanks! See you.”

  I’d already loaded an overnight bag into the trunk without telling Jordan, so there was nothing else to delay us. I heard my phone beep in my purse.

  “That’s probably Bev making sure that we’re on our way,” I laughed.

  “Damn,” he muttered, “she’s worse than you.”

  The drive to Corpus took about 40 minutes. Jordan was twitching and shifting around, part excited to be leaving the town limits, and part anxious about going to the city.

  By the time we crossed the Copano Bay Bridge he was practically climbing out of the damn seat. The bridge floated over the warm blue waters of the bay, almost skimming the surface. I’d swear that anyone traveling underneath it in a boat would lose their hat. Jordan was straining to stare out of the window, his eyes clouded with memories.

  Another 10 miles and Corpus was spread out in the distance, heralded by the elegant Harbor Bridge.

  His expression seemed tense.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, a little nervously.

  “I remember … we came here for Mikey’s eighteenth birthday.”

  Oh crap.

  “I didn’t know, Jordan. I’m so sorry! We can go back. We don’t have to…”

  He turned and smiled, although his eyes were sad.

  “No, sweetheart. I’m done hidin’ from the past. Time to start makin’ some new memories.”

  I reached out to take his hand. I was so proud of him. He’d grown so strong, changed so much since the damaged man I’d met all those months ago.

  “I love you,” I said. “What we have, you and me, it’s what I thought love should be, but I’d stopped believing it existed.”

  He smiled warmly. “Love you, too, Torrey Delaney.”

  The restaurant that Bev and Pete had chosen was right on the harbor, with views of yachts moored in the bay. Jordan tugged nervously at the neck of his t-shirt while I parked the Princess in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

  “Stop that!” I said, making a grab for his hand. “You look gorgeous!”

  His eyes shifted nervously toward the upscale restaurant.

  “I don’t know, Torrey…”

  I cut off his protest with a kiss.

  “You’re a free man, Jordan. You can go wherever you want. Do you trust me?”

  He nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I do.”

  We walked slowly toward the restaurant and before we even got there, I spotted two women in their thirties checking him out. They even stopped and pretended to be interested in an ugly dress displayed in a shop window, just so they could get a look at him from the rear as we passed by. Tramps. Having a hot boyfriend definitely had some disadvantages. The benefits, however… Yeah, I’d be looking forward to those later.

  He put his arm around me protectively when a group of students walked past, smelling like they’d been swimming in a brewery. One of them made the mistake of whistling at me.

  Jordan all but growled at the guy, and I swear each one of them became a little paler at the sight of him. The ice cold expression that he’d perfected in prison was masking his face. I knew what lay behind it, but they took him at face value.

  One of the kids held up his hands.

  “Just enjoyin’ the scenery, man. No harm, no foul.”

  Ooh, he really shouldn’t have tried talking his way out of it.

  “Back off, jerk off!” snarled Jordan, “Or you’ll be wearin’ your teeth as a decoration.”

  I had to make a grab for his arm before he tried to follow them.

  “Reel it in a bit, honey,” I said, as calmly as possible.

  To my surprise, when he turned to face me he was grinning widely.

  “What are you playing at?” I asked, exasperation heating my voice.

  He shook his head, still smiling.

  “What?” I insisted.

  He winked at me. “Felt good!”

  I slapped his arm.

  “You scared the shit out of me! I thought you were about to go postal and take that guy’s head off.”

  He chuckled lightly. “Not sayin’ I wouldn’t,” and he wrapped his arm more tightly around me as we entered the restaurant.

  The hostess perked up considerably, beaming at Jordan. He looked puzzled, glancing at me for an explanation. I rolled my eyes—the first of many times that evening, I suspected.

  “May I show you to a table for two, sir? Somewhere a lil’ private, perhaps?” and she giggled.

  So unprofessional! I didn’t go giggling all over customers when I was making them their damn coffee! Then an annoying little memory reminded me I’d made a play for Jordan the very first day he’d walked into the Busy Bee diner. But he’d been by himself, so fair game. I seemed to have become suddenly invisible to the hostess.

  “No, that’s all right,” I said, a little briskly. “We’re meeting friends. In fact, I see them now.”

  I steered Jordan into safer waters, but when I glanced over my shoulder, that slut of a hostess was still checking him out. Yeah, she’d just cost her colleagues a tip.

  “Wow, look at you!” said Bev, staring at him with obvious appreciation.

  Jordan looked a little pink when she jumped up and hugged him tightly. He was definitely more comfortable with Pete’s handshake. Guess he was what they called a ‘man’s man’. Mmm-hmm, I liked the way that sounded. A lot.

  They’d already started on the wine but Jordan shook his head when Pete offered it to him.

  “No thanks, man.”

  Pete looked surprised but Bev grinned.

  “You haven’t told him, have you?”

  Jordan turned to look at me, a question in his eyes.

  “Nope. It’s your gift,” I said to Bev, “yours and Pete’s. Why don’t you tell him?”

  “Tell me what?” Jordan asked, impatiently. “What’s on that tricky lil’ Boston brain?”

  “Well,” Bev answered for me excitedly, “Torrey said how you’d been wishin’ and a-hopin’ to go upscale, and we know that y’all will be moving on soon, so this is kind of a farewell present. We’re all staying in a hotel in town tonight—our treat. So, we’ll all be drinking and dancing and lovin’ till dawn!”

  She squealed and clapped her hands together, then high-fived me.

  Jordan looked stunned.

  “What do you think, baby?” I asked, gently.

  “Wow. Just wow, you guys,” he said.

  He stared at his hands, obviously overwhelmed.

  Pete tapped him lightly on the arm and poured an extra glass of wine for him.

  “Here’s to getting laid tonight, buddy!”

  Bev scowled but Pete’s comment made Jordan smile. “I’ll drink to that,” he said. “Thanks, guys.” Then he turned to me. “Thank you for makin’ tonight so special, sweetheart.”

  He kissed me softly, and I was starting to respond when the freakin’ server came up to take our orders.

  Jordan’s eyes got a little wide when he saw the size of the menu—and the prices—but other than raising his eyebrows at me, he didn’t question it further.

  We had a fabulous meal, gazing out at the sun setting over the harbor. The ocean turned from blue to a blaze of orange, then to silver as the evening slipped quietly into night.

  I felt a frisson of sadness knowing that we’d be leaving real friends behind when we headed out. It had surprised me to find that there were lots of things that I was going to miss about small town Texas. Sure, we could come back and visit, but I also knew we were never going to live here again. It was for the best.

  “So, what have you two planned for the res
t of the evening?” I asked as we left the restaurant, well fed and super relaxed.

  “There’s a great live music place that Pete’s taken me to before,” Bev said, excitedly. “They have a lot of blues and Texas country, but quite a few indie bands play there, too.”

  We were nearly outside Dr. Rockit’s when Jordan suddenly came to a halt, his body stiff and unresponsive.

  I saw immediately what had caught his attention.

  Ryan Dupont.

  I couldn’t believe that this would be the one person we’d run into, 30 miles from home.

  “Jordan, no!” I gasped.

  I couldn’t tell if he’d heard me or not; he didn’t respond.

  Ryan’s eyes flicked to me, back to Jordan, then across to Pete and Bev, who weren’t sure what was going on, but knew it was nothing good.

  Jordan spoke first.

  “You gonna take at swing at me again, Ry? Because I’m tellin’ you, I’m done payin’ my debt and I’ll be swingin’ back this time.”

  I don’t think Pete had ever gotten into a fist fight in his life because he looked as helpless as me and Bev. Even so, he took a step forward, ready and willing to take a stand.

  Ryan didn’t even look in our direction; his eyes were fixed on Jordan. He shook his head slowly, his expression questioning.

  “You didn’t press charges?” he said, quietly.

  Jordan looked at him coldly. “Why would I?”

  “Because…”

  Ryan couldn’t finish the sentence, but Jordan just watched him, unblinking, unnerving.

  “We were friends,” Jordan answered, at last.

  Ryan swallowed several times. “I still hate you for what you did.”

  Jordan didn’t move a muscle.

  “I know.”

  Ryan nodded, then spoke again.

  “But I’ll always hate myself, too … for not stoppin’ you and Mikey gettin’ in the car that night.”

  The two men continued to stare at each other, and I held my breath. Eventually, Ryan dropped his gaze and stepped around us, walking away, his shoulders hunched and his head down.

  My heart was still racing from fear as I looked up at Jordan. His expression was distant but not angry or upset.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, rubbing his arm to remind him I was there.