by Mia Downing
“It will be a first we share together.”
“I like that. Together is a nice change,” Jordan said softly and leaned back on his elbows, stretching out.
Ryan already felt the tension leaving his body, the awareness settling, more because he was here with Jordan than because of any drink. He didn’t fight it, either, though the rational part of him warned this was stupid. Why open himself up like this when Jordan would bolt? Ryan had seen it in his eyes earlier.
But he knew why, and he had vowed before if he ever felt anything that smacked of love again, he wouldn’t walk away, no matter how scary. He would embrace it, because people didn’t get a chance at real love twice in a lifetime. So Ryan sat and embraced that feeling, even though it would be the shortest love story in history. Two hours worth, tops. Ryan took Jordan’s hand in his, squeezing his fingers lightly.
Jordan squeezed back though his gaze never left the falls. “How long does it take to feel anything besides the numb lips?”
“Half hour?” Ryan had no clue, but it sounded good. “How about a swim?”
“Okay.”
They stripped, leaving their clothes in a tangle on the rocks. Jordan skittered to the edge of the pool, testing the water with a foot, and then sinking in, ever cautious. And that was the difference between them. Though Jordan was powerful and rich, he was cautious as hell, wary, skittish like Trigger in the jungle only he hid it behind years of practice. And just like Trigger, he bolted when he got the chance.
Ryan’s job was to rein Trigger in, make him adapt, change, and hope to hell he’d do it quick enough so he didn’t have to send him back to Texas. Fiji offered a good life. Hell, he offered a good life, but sometimes one just didn’t see the benefits when the fear was so prominent.
In true form of his personal self, Ryan ignored the warning in his gut that loving a bolting man was stupid and dove off the rocks, popping up near Jordan with a spray of cool water.
“That’s good.” Ryan ran his hands through his hair, loving the coolness on his heated skin. Jordan was chest deep, his nipples just above the crest of the water, skin glistening with droplets sprayed by Ryan’s arrival. “So much better than salt water.”
“It’s safe to dive?” Jordan climbed out, water dripping down his smooth skin, his cock semi-erect in that dark bed of hair.
“Yeah, stay over this side. There’s nothing in the way, and the water’s deep enough.” For once, Ryan wanted Jordan to just leap and not ask, just follow his lead, let emotion take him. That’s what Blake had wanted for Jordan this weekend, a chance to break free from the cocoon of safety. Ryan knew it deep in his heart.
Jordan dove, his lean body a picture of perfection except for the slight split of his feet as he entered the water, splashing a bit. He grinned when he surfaced, the light returning to his eyes. “Bet I can dive in farther than you.”
“You can’t.” Ryan took the bait with a grin.
“Can,” Jordan fired back, climbing out. His back was already lightly tanned, his ass a little less white. “Ready?”
They dove, Ryan hitting the water farther out by a few feet. Jordan laughed and splashed him. “Cheater.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. Cheater.”
Ryan swam over in neat strokes and promptly dunked the rude fucker under. Take that.
Jordan surfaced and sputtered, laughing again. “Ass.”
Ryan circled Jordan as he treaded water, feeling like a shark. “What about my ass? I remember you ogling it earlier, without permission, hoping I would drop the soap.”
“I remember you saying I might regret that.”
“Time’s here.” Ryan swam to Jordan’s front and dove. He could easily see in the crystal clear water, and Jordan had a lot on display. His cock was rock-hard, his legs and arms waving in the water, keeping him afloat. Ryan swam and nipped the tip of Jordan’s dick, fondling his balls with one hand. He opened his mouth and drew Jordan’s length in, giving one good suck. Just one, then he skirted around and nipped at Jordan’s firm ass. That was about all he had air for, so he swam toward the sunlight.
“What the hell,” Jordan asked as Ryan surfaced, lust in his eyes. “You can hold your breath forever.”
“Yep. I’d suck you off under the water, but it’d take you too long to come. I have to breathe eventually.”
Jordan’s Adam’s apple bobbed above the water. “You going to fuck me?”
Ryan swam closer and nipped at Jordan’s lips. Jordan tried to cop a feel, but Ryan dove, then resurfaced out of arm’s reach, laughing. “That sounded like a question. Where’s the please?”
“Would you like to fuck me, please?”
“No.”
“No?” Jordan’s dark eyes flared with disbelief, and he shot a spray of water in Ryan’s direction, out of punishment. “Fuck, you’re cruel.”
Ryan’s heart hammered as he drew in a deep breath and said softly, “I want to make love to you.”
Chapter Nine
Make love…
Jordan froze and almost sank under the crystal clear waters at Ryan’s soft words. He treaded water a little harder, keeping himself up. Given the insane thoughts he had on top of the outlook, he didn’t think making love was a good idea. Well, his mind didn’t think so. His cock was all about the making love or whatever Ryan wanted to do with him. Fuck him hard, and wring him dry—that’s what his cock wanted. But making love…
He stared at Ryan, his long hair damp and dripping, those firm lips parted in a sexy way that always seemed to beg for a slip of the tongue. Damn, he was hot, every bit dominant and sexy, everything Jordan wanted in anyone, male or female. Why wouldn’t he want to make love with someone that made him feel this way, his chest pounding and cock throbbing?
Shit. Whatever was in the kava was sluicing over his nervous system, taking the edge away, making his mind do loops and spins like a fighter plane on a lazy day off, going through the maneuvers because it would be a fucking good time had by all.
“Make love,” Jordan repeated, testing the words on his tongue. They sounded easy in his ears though they were words he’d never uttered, ever. He didn’t really believe in love. It wasn’t for him and it made no sense, because his whole family loved easily. His parents were happy. His sister was happily married. But not him. Never. Why?
Ryan nodded, his gorgeous face lined with seriousness, the shadow of stubble so damned sexy. He brushed a lock of wet hair behind his ear. He swam over and tugged at Jordan’s elbow. “Let’s go.”
Jordan’s mind became clear and untangled. Suddenly making love with Ryan was a really good idea. Why not? If they made love, then he’d know if what he felt and thought high above was real or just crazy mind chatter. You could make love and not be in love, right? He had no clue what making love involved, but what the hell? His mind rolled around the idea, liking it more and more, because making love might mean a better orgasm, if that was at all possible.
They swam back to shore, and Ryan stopped him in the waist-high water, drawing him in for a heated kiss. Jordan relaxed into his embrace and moaned into Ryan’s mouth, letting his tongue explore the depths, tangling, then darting off to take pleasure in the feel of Ryan’s inner cheek, then back to draw along the length of his tongue. This time Ryan moaned, his hands pressing against Jordan’s nape, his lips sliding away to nibble at Jordan’s jaw.
“Fuck, you can kiss,” Ryan whispered as his tongue laved Jordan’s ear. “So good.”
Ryan’s compliment stoked the coals of desire in Jordan’s groin. They stepped closer, and Ryan’s cock mashed against his, pressing into his stomach, the flesh hot and insistent, branding his belly. Jordan let his hands roam, dropping down to cup Ryan’s firm ass, the muscles defined from hours logged in the saddle. Then his hands journeyed up to his back, relishing the muscle definition there, across his shoulders, down along his lats.
Ryan tugged his hand again and Jordan followed in a daze. They returned to the blanket, and Ryan eased him down on h
is back, slipping between his thighs, settling his weight against Jordan’s hips. Ryan kissed him, framing Jordan’s face in his strong hands, his tongue stroking deep.
Yes, this felt good. Right. Ryan’s hot skin branded every inch of his, Ryan’s hand toying with his nipples, Ryan’s erection rocking against his, the friction damned good. Jordan bucked his hips, thrusting against Ryan’s hard stomach, his pre-cum letting the head of his cock glide over the valleys.
“I want you inside,” Jordan whispered. “Lube up and come inside.”
“Like this?” Ryan sucked at Jordan’s nipple, his teeth grazing, sending a slice of pain on the best pleasure. “Me on top?”
“I need your skin on mine. I need your arms around me.”
Ryan rolled and grabbed a condom and lube from the pile of things they’d carted over from the saddlebags. God, that man was fine, the movements of his body languid. Ryan rolled on a condom and lubed his fingers, making that mundane chore look sexy as fuck.
Then his weight returned, pressing Jordan back to the blanket. Their mouths clashed, teeth hitting for a second, then the kiss became hot, desperate, the kiss of a man about to get laid. Ryan’s fingers explored the crack of his ass, and then slipped into his puckered hole.
Jordan didn’t need to relax—he was there. So easy, slick, Ryan’s fingers massaging, circling, spreading. So fucking good. His cock couldn’t get much harder. The stimulation of his ass was almost enough to send him over the edge. Almost. Jordan wanted to come with Ryan, badly enough that he stopped the building pleasure with a deep breath.
“I need you inside,” Jordan beckoned, unable to take the sweet torture any longer. “Please, Ryan.”
Ryan rocked back and lubed his cock, then settled again, nudging the tip along the crack of Jordan’s ass. He angled Jordan’s hips and then pushed against his puckered hole. “Look at me,” Ryan commanded softly.
Jordan looked up and their gazes met as Ryan slid into Jordan inch by inch. Jordan was lost in the blue depths that showed so much. Wonder, amazement. Conflict, that was there, too. Jordan’s breath hitched, and his lungs became ten sizes too small in his chest. His shaft pulsed between them, his balls drawing up, wanting release. Then Ryan was deep inside, his cock throbbing, the gentle burn gone, replaced with a sensation of fullness. Oneness.
Ryan licked Jordan’s parted lips, his breathing just as labored as he began to rock his hips in slow, gentle slides, grinding on the down stroke, giving a swivel of his hips on the up. Jordan arched, wanting deeper, harder, forcing Ryan to quicken the pace.
“You sure?”
“Love me hard,” Jordan whispered. He closed his eyes, and Ryan’s mouth found his, this kiss gentle despite the quickening of his thrusts. Desire built, swirling, the flames crackling higher, the fuse for an explosion lit. Ryan’s cock brushed that sweet spot deep inside, and Jordan stiffened, so close, wanting to leap into outer space.
“Look at me,” Ryan ordered, his voice ragged. “I want to see you as I come. I want you to come, too.”
“Yes,” Jordan moaned, his skin on fire. How meeting Ryan’s gaze could set this blaze, he had no clue. Every inch of skin felt branded by Ryan, the nerve endings almost crackling from the contact. Ryan’s hand slid between them, and he grasped Jordan’s shaft and pumped, the tempo fierce, the strokes hard. “Ryan.”
“I’m here,” Ryan breathed, holding his gaze, his face gorgeous in the throes of lust. “Come with me.”
It was like being shot out of a cannon. The only thing keeping Jordan on the blanket as he came was Ryan’s weight. Unable to control himself, he tossed his head back, arching from the impact of the shocks of energy. Pleasure flew on wings at the speed of light, every inch of him tingling and singing. His ass rippled around Ryan’s cock as he jerked deep inside, the condom suddenly hot at the tip.
Jordan trembled a little, and he thought Ryan did, too. Or maybe he jiggled a bit as he shifted, his breathing heavy in Jordan’s ear. Then Ryan propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at Jordan, so relaxed, full of contentment. Awe and something else, too, attached to a look that was tender.
Whatever emotion was attached to Ryan’s gaze seeped into Jordan’s chest to wrap around his heart, pulling tight. He swallowed, fighting the sensation, the panic swirling as tight as his chest constricted.
“Don’t,” Ryan whispered, kissing Jordan’s throat, his jaw. “Relax. Let me love you.”
Love.
“I can’t.” The panic swirled again, bubbling up, becoming all-consuming. Jordan struggled under Ryan’s weight. “Let me up.”
“You’re okay.”
“Fuck, I’m not.” His heart hammered as Ryan rolled off of him, pulling out of his ass. “How can you feel that? For me? You don’t know me.”
“I know you.” Ryan swallowed nervously. “Blake told me all about you, Jordan. Without me knowing, he made my heart ready for you with his tall tales and silly stories. You know Blake. He loved you so much. I didn’t realize until I met you what he was doing. It seemed so innocent.”
“Why didn’t he tell me about you, then?” Jordan bit back the panic again, not liking this burning need to run, to escape. It wasn’t manly or cool, and he should want to be right here with Ryan. But it engulfed him, making him unsteady on his feet.
“Because he knew you. You’d run.”
“Not true.” So. Fucking. True. Panic made him an awesome liar, though.
“But Blake also knew if you were surprised with the truth, you’d embrace it. Because that’s what you do. When life surprises you with oranges, Jordan, you make orange juice and marmalade.”
Another Blake-ism. Fuck, Ryan did know him. Too well. “But if I knew about the oranges, I would run.”
Blake always accused him of this, but he never got it. He never saw it, until now, because fuck him, did he want to run. Only he wasn’t running from the oranges.
Ryan nodded, his expression one of deep sadness. He removed the condom, dove into the water quick to rinse off, then emerged to find his clothes. He tugged them onto his wet body, not bothering to dry off.
Jordan remained frozen to the blanket, not sure what to do. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting ready to go. You’re going to want to run. I’m going to make it easy for you.”
“That’s it? You make love to me and then let me run?”
“We made love, and yes, now, I’m going to let you run.”
Jordan stared, fairly sure Ryan had been conked on the head by a coconut. No one had ever let him run before. He was rich and people moved out of his way so he didn’t have to run. No one questioned. They allowed. Blake had cornered him on occasion, but it had made him want to run harder, faster. But Ryan had just opened the barnyard gate wide, slapped him on the ass, and told him to take to the hills. “Why do I do this?”
“I don’t know. That’s for you to figure out. But I’m not going to stop you.”
This should have made the panic lessen, but instead, it grew until Jordan wasn’t quite sure what to do. He had to get up, help Ryan tack the horses, but he was stuck on the blanket, because if he did rise, he’d lose Ryan. He knew it, as sure as he knew his bank account total. It had happened before in the few relationships he’d had with women that had shown some promise when he was younger. So few, and when he got too close, he wanted to run. Only the rules were clear. Run and it’s over.
Ryan glanced at him. He sighed, raked his hair from his face and then reached out a hand. “Come, Jordan.”
“If I leave, it’s over.” He must have had enough kava left in his system to blurt that out. He felt like such an ass, stating the obvious, frozen in fear, hating this vulnerable place Blake had shoved him.
Ryan smiled softly, the lines of sadness deep around his mouth, his eyes. “It’s only over if you want it to be over.”
Confusion settled in, pushing panic aside. “I can go, but I can come back. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“What I saw�
��” What he saw in Ryan’s eyes scared him shitless, because if he were into the whole feelings thing, he’d bet a hotel on an island with an extinct volcano that he felt the same way. Too soon. Way too soon.
“It’s not going anywhere, Jordan. Not anytime soon. Eventually, yeah, I’m going to move on, because I’m not going to wait forever. I know I have feelings already. You have time to think about what you’re feeling. But go back to your world. Take some time to see if the fucking fresh air has addled your brain or if you’ve found what Blake wanted you to find.”
Jordan swallowed, unsure. “What do you think Blake wanted me to find?”
Ryan stared at him a long time, as if weighing the truth vs. the consequences. Jordan held his breath, unsure, excited, and scared as hell. What if they came to the same conclusion? Fuck, what if they didn’t? “I think Blake wanted you to peace. He also wanted you to find a home, where you didn’t need to run anymore. So when you’re ready, come home.”
Fuck. “And if this isn’t my home?”
Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to find inner balance. “Then send me the paperwork, and I’ll sign it.”
“You’ll hate me.”
“I won’t hate you, but selling means this isn’t your home,” Ryan said softly, as if talking to a small, addled child. He started picking up, organizing what they needed to take back, as if to release some of the tension between them.
“Home is where the heart is,” Jordan whispered, feeling like that addled child, hating the saying his mother had stenciled to her kitchen wall. He got it. He’d never truly felt at home anywhere, not like he had as a kid, when home was safe and you could fuck up however and no one kicked you out.
“I want your heart. You need a home.” Ryan turned, his expression unreadable. “All you have to do is ask. I won’t make you beg for this, Jordan. This is all you.”
There, right there in front of Jordan, loomed two things money could never buy—a home and Ryan’s love. Both were his if he just asked for them.