“Not the way I see it.” His emotions still too damn raw, he needed—welcomed—the distraction of splaying his hands over her shoulders, sliding them up into her hair. A whiff of her perfume caught on the breeze to tempt him again.
“How do you see it?” Her words hitched with a betraying breathiness.
He stepped closer, skimming against her, each brush a hot temptation. “I would say that I saw a one-of-a-kind woman who knocked me off my feet.”
Her chest swelled with a gasp, her fuller breasts pressing against him as she leaned. “That’s nice.”
“Not nice so much as smart. I know special when I see it.” When he felt it. Like now. He soaked in the silkiness of her hair against his fingers.
Her lashes fluttered closed, then half-open again. “You’re using those stellar corporate boardroom skills on me.”
“Why is it so difficult for you to trust what I say?” He shoved aside a punch of guilt over the newspaper leak. He had been thinking of her peace of mind.
“It’s been a tough few months, learning about my father.” She waved a hand in the general direction of Cassie’s house. “Finding out about this other life of his. It can shake a person’s trust, especially when I already had doubts about the whole happily-ever-after gig in the first place.”
“I can understand that.” That wasn’t what he’d intended in bringing her here, damn it. He worked to steer the conversation back on path. “My parents had a great marriage. I’ve seen how it should work.”
“They loved each other?”
“Yes.” The loss squeezed his gut again.
She stared at him. Waiting. For?
Hell. She was talking about that L word, or the lack thereof between them.
He’d promised to be honest with her. He’d been able to go to the press to make things easier for her, but this would be different. He knew that.
He hooked his hands behind her waist, wishing this could be simpler, wishing they were free to take their time and let the simmering passions and feelings build.
Then again, would they have ever made time for that to happen if not for the pregnancy? The sand shifted under him as he thought of all he would have missed if he’d stayed away from Brooke Garrison. “Feelings grow over time. We have a lot to build on.”
“Thank you for being honest.”
At least he’d answered right. An exhale of relief gushed out of him in time with the receding wave. The next curl of the ocean around their feet sent desire pumping through him, an urge to forge ahead. “Then let’s be honest about what feelings we already have.”
Feelings?
She was awash in them at the moment. Sensual longing more than tingled over her now. It burned until she ached to sink deeper in the waves for relief.
Or submerge herself in the sweet release she knew she could find in Jordan’s arms.
Maybe that was her answer after all. Quit worrying so much about the rings and happily-ever-after family portraits. The baby wouldn’t be born for a few more months. Why deny herself the pleasure of exploring what she and Jordan did have figured out? How to bring each other unsurpassed pleasure.
Before she could change her mind, Brooke tucked her hand behind his neck and arched up on her toes to press her mouth to his. His low growl of appreciation rumbled against her already sensitive breasts a second before his arms secured her to him.
Water soothed around her feet, languished warm liquid touches up her ankles as Jordan toyed with the knots holding her whole dress together. Silk swayed along her calves, teasing between her legs while his mouth covered hers, his kiss growing deeper, more insistent. Her fingers gripped his hair, holding him to her while she let the desire for him wash over her as relentlessly as the waves stole the sand from beneath her bare feet.
He palmed her bottom and nestled her closer, closer still, as near as she could get in her condition—and likely as far as they should take this out on an open beach.
She’d been wanting this, thinking of this. Why was she hesitating? She wouldn’t. “Let’s go to my room.”
Six
A t the bold scoop of Jordan’s arm behind her knees, Brooke gasped with surprise. He gathered her up into his embrace and charged across the beach toward the private entrance to their suite. She laced her fingers behind his neck and held on, savoring the strength of his body and the fluid movement of muscle.
Her heart raced as fast as his feet. “I can walk, you know.”
His hold merely tightened, tucking her hip close to the hard heat of him. “I’m not wasting any time for you to change your mind.”
She threw back her head and laughed, the stars overhead not even close to competing with the sparks of sensation showering through her. She rested her head against his shoulder. “Not a chance of that. I want this. I want you.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.” He thundered up the lanai steps, across the small patio and angled to open the outside door to her room. His jaw slanted closer and on impulse, she arched up to brush a kiss along the bit of bruise that remained from his fight with her brother.
She would always associate the sweet scent of the greenery on the porch, the crash of the island waves with this moment, her senses all on high alert. He carried her over the threshold and lowered her to her feet. She sank her sandy toes in the thick rug and stretched upward.
Her hungry mouth locked to his, her fingers yanking at his shirt. The cotton fabric bunched in her fists still held the heat of his body which made her yearn all the more for the real thing. She flung away his shirt and flattened her palms to the pulsating warmth of his chest. She ached to feel that strength over her, under her, all over her.
Jordan swept away her shawl, the crocheted lace slithering down her body to pool around her ankles. The heat of his hands on her uncovered shoulders sent a shiver of anticipation through her.
He tugged the tie on one shoulder, then the other, the satiny top easing down until the fabric hitched on her breasts. Leaving her covered. For now. But thanks to the dress’s built-in bra, once the top fell free she would be fully exposed.
Her hands gripped and twitched along the back of his neck, his bristly hair teasing along the sensitive pads of her fingertips. He murmured words of encouragement in her ear.
Not that she needed any. But the whisper of his breath against her skin incited a fresh wave of want.
Jordan slid his fingers under the gauzy fabric, teasing inside to test the creamy texture of one breast. The dress inched lower. Her breathing snagged in her throat.
She couldn’t think of a time she’d ached for anything as much as she longed for the feel of his palms on her breasts, heavy with need.
“Jordan…” Was that husky plea hers?
His steamy gaze darn near seared through satin. The ties from one shoulder still in his hands, he teased the tip along her collarbone, over the top of her breasts. He nudged the dress lower bit by bit, layering kisses beneath each new patch of skin he unveiled. Finally, her satiny dress fell free from her chest, skimming down her body, leaving her wearing only panties, just a thin scrap of Lycra separating her from him. She pressed into his cupping palms with a needy groan as her dress joined her shawl around her ankles.
A moment’s unease snaked through her as she wondered what he would think of the unmistakable differences in her body. She waited, her hands stilled on his chest by anticipation mixed with anxiety.
The night breeze through the open veranda doors did little to cool her overheated flesh. Jordan’s hungry and oh so appreciative gaze upped her temperature even more. Her heart kicked into a speed that almost made her dizzy.
“And I thought you were beautiful before.” His hands skimmed from her breasts to shape over her stomach.
He seemed to mean it and she exhaled her relief.
The baby booted him. He jerked a hand back, his eyes wide. “Wow, that was so…incredible.”
She laughed, enjoying sharing this moment with him, having him touch their growing child.
“Pretty intense, isn’t it? It doesn’t hurt, although this soccer star wakes me up sometimes.”
He stared at her stomach, stunned as he placed his hand back again in a broad span of warmth. “Amazing.” Eventually he looked back at her face again. “Are you sure we’re clear to take this further?”
Unease—and she hated to admit it, even a touch of insecurity—crept back up her spine. “Are you going to be one of those men who’s afraid to touch a pregnant woman?”
“Hell, no,” he answered without hesitation. “But I also think I should be man enough to check about restrictions.”
“No restrictions. Well, except we can’t pull out a trapeze.”
“You would have used a trapeze before?”
She rolled her eyes, but welcomed how his charm eased some of the starch from her spine. “In your dreams.”
Brooke relaxed against him, the brush of her legs against his dragging her back under his spell.
His hands roved over her with unmistakable impatience. “I’m not much for circus tights, anyhow. So other than the trapeze?”
“Pretty much anything goes as long as it’s comfortable.” Although she did remember one chapter in her What to Expect book that had interesting possibilities. “As the baby grows, I will need to use inventive positions.”
“Inventive positions with me, you mean.”
“Possessive, aren’t you?”
He stayed silent, his face solemn for three slow blinking seconds before he smiled deep creases into his face. “Let’s get back to those inventive positions.”
“I’m not that large yet.”
“We could always practice now.”
Practice for later? Assuming they would still be together and having sex when her pregnancy advanced to that stage months from now. The intimate, vulnerable image sent a shiver through her.
“You’re sexy now,” he whispered against her ear and nipped her diamond stud between his teeth. “You’ll be even more so then because it’s my baby you’re carrying.”
“You’re a smooth talker.” She backed him toward the bed, brushing against the unmistakable reaction to her nakedness.
“I mean what I say.” He closed his eyes briefly as she continued to skim against him, his throat moving in a long, slow swallow. “It doesn’t pay to be caught in a lie.”
“But you leave out parts of the truth.”
“Then, I guess you will have to ask the right questions.”
Just what she wanted to hear. She flattened her hand to his chest. “Do you want me to touch you here?”
“What do you think?” He stared down at her with eyes blue-flame hot.
“Answer, please.” Yes, she wanted, needed the words.
“I’ve wanted your hands on me every damn second of every day since you left me in that hotel bed over five months ago.”
He couldn’t be much clearer than that. She wondered if there had been other women since then, but given his propensity for honesty, she wasn’t sure she could handle the answer.
“Nobody but you since that night.” His hands slid into her hair and tipped her face to his where she could see the honesty of his words.
She tried not to show how much that meant to her, tried not to let it mean so much to her. “Are you a mind reader, too?”
“Not a mind reader, but fairly good at judging expressions.” His fingers traced down her spine. “A boardroom necessity.”
“Remind me not to play cards with you.” But back to the more pressing questions for the moment, something that seemed all the more urgent with his hands curved to her bottom. “Do you want my hand higher while I kiss you…or lower?”
“See if you can read my expression.”
It seemed she had fairly astute expression-reading skills herself. Brooke arched up on her toes to press her lips to his while skimming her fingers down, down, down until they skimmed the heavy hard length of his arousal.
No question, he wanted her.
Her senses seemed more finely tuned than ever before, her awareness sharply honed. Any apprehensions she may have had about baring her pregnant body to his gaze evaporated under the obvious heat and passion of his attention.
His tongue dipped and swooped through her mouth while he made swift work of his shirt buttons and flung the garment away, quickly bringing them flush against each other. Flesh meeting flesh.
She sighed. The sweet abrasion of his bristly hair brought her breasts to tight peaks of near unbearable pleasure until she couldn’t stop herself from wriggling against him. Wanting more. Already craving release.
“Patience, Brooke. Patience.”
Damn it all. She was the most patient, calm person on the planet. If she wanted something now she deserved to have it.
Jordan trailed a finger down her spine until he reached the top on her bikini panties resting just below the slight bulge of her stomach.
She stopped her caress and reached around to clamp his wrist. “I’m not getting fully naked until you lose more clothes.”
He grinned. “What a hardship.” Jordan spread his arms wide. “Have your way with me, woman.”
Brooke unbuckled his belt and slid the leather free slowly, deliberately, then giving the length a shake and snap that echoed through the room.
Jordan’s eyes widened. “My quiet one has even more fire than I knew.”
Laughing, she tossed away his belt and grabbed hold of his pants. She tugged him forward and nipped his collarbone, while opening his zipper fly. “Still interested in talking?”
“Uh, not so much.”
“Thought so.” She slipped her hands into his pants and shoved them down and off in a deft sweep that left him gloriously naked. “Now don’t move until I tell you.”
Finally, finally she could touch him again and she let herself. Let her fingers, just the tips, glide over him along his chest, arms, wrists and hands.
His muscles rippled from the restraint of standing still when she could see clearly in his eyes that he wanted to leap forward. Tanned, defined abs begged for her attention and she obeyed, then surveying lower, lingering.
She remembered well the feel of wrapping her legs around his solid thighs, then inching higher to dig in her heels. She adored the feel of those strong and powerful legs and worked her way back up again until her palms cupped his hips, and she stood face-to-face with him.
What new things would they try tonight?
She saw his biceps contract for action a split second before he scooped her up into his arms again. Brooke squeaked. “Stop! You really should stop carting me around this way. I’m too heavy.”
“Not even close.” He carried her past the settee over to the sprawling bed and gently settled her into the middle of the puffy comforter.
“My turn,” he growled, and before she could answer—not that she could find words at the moment—his mouth closed over her breast.
Slowly, torturously so, he began his journey over her body, a trek that mirrored her exploration of his, except he kissed, licked, sipped his way over her heated skin and sensitive crooks until her fists twisted in the sheets. Until muttered pleas whispered on panting sighs.
Jordan grabbed a pillow and tucked it beneath her hips, offering the perfect angle to compensate for the gentle swell of her stomach. He slid over her, bracing his weight on his elbows and stared into her eyes, his heat pressing, waiting.
She flung her arms around his neck to urge him toward her for another of his mind-drugging kisses, but he wouldn’t be budged. With slow deliberation, never looking away, refusing to let her so much as blink, he pressed inside her again, deeper. Fully. And waited.
If not for the stark strain of tendons budging on his neck, she wouldn’t have known how dearly this restraint cost him. A fresh wave of pleasure scorched through her at his tenderness in the midst of such passion.
She arched up to kiss him, bit his lip and demanded, “More, now.”
In case he might be left with any further doubts, she rolled her hips agains
t his and, oh my, he got the message. Then she forgot about who was in control of the moment because it was all she could do to keep from screaming out her pleasure, which would only bring the whole house running. Instead, she buried her face in Jordan’s shoulder and moaned a litany of encouragement to continue more of this, and yes, a little bit of that.
The rocking pressure of him moving in and out of her body brought back memories of their first time. The familiarity mixed with a sense of newness, risk, because they no longer had the option of walking away from each other forever.
A scary thought she shoved away before it could steal the blissful sensations tightening inside her. She grappled at his shoulders, scratched down his back then flattened her hands to absorb the warm feel of his sweat-slicked skin. Her fingers contracted again as the sweet need inside her rose higher, higher still until…
She dug her nails into his flesh, her head flinging back as she gasped once, again and again with the rippling waves of release. Dimly, she heard him join her as the tide seeped back out, leaving her limp and panting as he slumped over to lay beside her.
Their hitching breaths mingled in the light breeze swirling through the room. She rested her head on his chest and knew there was some reason she should gather her scrambled thoughts. Except that would require, well, the ability to think.
For some reason, her brain never worked as advertised when it came to dealing with Jordan.
Languid from loving and being loved, Brooke kept her arm over her eyes and felt the cool drift as Jordan slid the sheet from her, wafted it in the air and covered her body.
And left.
Watching from the veil of her eyelashes, she saw him tug on his boxer shorts before padding across the room to open the French doors. Her muscles pretty much mush after round two, she couldn’t bring herself to slide from the bed, but that certainly wouldn’t stop her from enjoying the view. Moonlight streamed over his golden nakedness, the broad planks of his steely shoulders.
He seemed so solid and exciting. Could she trust her judgment? Jordan had such sound arguments for why they should be together, and without a doubt what they’d shared in the bed had been beyond compare.
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