by Lori Foster
She wasn't at all surprised when he kissed her.
JORDAN WANTED to devour her. The need she created just by being close nearly made him crazy. It was a live thing, a teeth-gnashing hunger that he had no control over. He groaned, sucking her tongue into his mouth and stroking it with his own.
Georgia's arms slipped around his neck, her soft breasts nestling into his chest. Her costume top was skimpy and he slipped his hands beneath it to feel the warm skin of her back, then couldn't resist sliding his hands down to her sweetly curved ass. His body pulsed with need, his erection growing painfully. Her bottom was bare except for the thong and her cheeks were hot, soft. He traced the thin line of material with his fingertips as deeply as he could, and took her rough groan into his mouth.
She went on tiptoe against him, pushing into him. Her nipples were hard and he used his other hand to explore her breasts. He wanted her naked. He wanted to see her nipples, to taste them.
He kissed her neck as he brought both hands up to the lapels on her top and pulled them open. The low vee of the costume made it easy to expose her and the second her breasts were freed, pushed up by the material bunched tightly beneath them, Georgia gasped. Jordan didn't give her time to pull away. He dipped his head down and licked one dark rosy nipple.
Her fingers clenched in his hair. "Jordan."
"Shhh." Even with his blood roaring in his ears, Jordan cautioned himself to go slow, to tease her, to make her admit to the incredible passion between them. All the well-grounded reasons to give her more time, to avoid sexual interludes, were chased away by the sight of her.
Her nipples were large, tightly puckered. He licked again, then again, using the rough tip of his tongue to torment her. Tantalizing sounds of hunger escaped her. He caught her with his teeth and nipped gently, then not so gently. Georgia trembled. When she tried to pull him closer he sucked her deep into the heat of his mouth.
"Jordan..." she whispered on a vibrating moan.
"I know, sweetheart, I know."
He cupped her between her legs. She was so hot, and she pushed against his probing fingers, her thighs opening without his instruction. He could feel her swollen flesh, feel the dampness of her even through the material. The bottoms were tight but he insinuated his fingers beneath the right leg opening and found her wet and ready – for him. He straightened and held her tightly with his free arm.
Her hips moved with his fingers, seeking more of his touch. Jordan felt swollen and thick, achingly hard. The damn saloon could have blown up and he might not have noticed. He was only aware of the feel of her, her scent, now stronger with her excitement.
"Come on, sweetheart," he encouraged roughly, seeing that she was already climbing toward a climax. Her eyes were cloudy, unfocused, her lips parted as she panted for breath. His fingers moved more deeply, stroking, sliding insistently over her slick flesh then up to her swollen clitoris. Delicately now, he touched her, light, rhythmic touches.
Georgia groaned and squeezed her eyes closed. Jordan watched her face, saw her skin flush darkly, her lush mouth tremble. Her pulse raced in her throat, and her hands bit into his upper arms, caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away.
"Come for me, Georgia," he groaned, knowing he, too, was perilously close to the edge. "I want to see you come."
Her beautiful breasts heaved, her throat arched, and then she bit her bottom lip and groaned harsh and low and Jordan supported her, mesmerized as she jerked and shuddered and it went on and on. He felt so much a part of her that he knew nothing would ever be the same again.
Long seconds passed. Gently, he pulled his fingers from her. Her eyelashes fluttered and she looked at him, still slightly dazed. Her forehead and temples were dewy, her breathing still labored. Jordan met her gaze, held it as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.
Georgia shuddered. She clung to him with a rough tenderness he'd never known before. She was pliant, accepting of his will.
He gave her a kiss of lingering need and apology. Holding her, seeing her like this, brought him back to reality. The very last thing she wanted or needed was to be taken quickly in a damn saloon closet. Not that he regretted giving her pleasure. How could he?
"We have to stop." Jordan couldn't quite believe the words came from his own mouth. Not when he wanted her so badly. But the past few weeks had been a carefully wrought campaign to win her over, and he wouldn't blow it now. If he made love to her here – and he was about a nanosecond away from doing just that – her embarrassment would drive a new wedge between them.
He took a deep breath and said, "I can't take you here, sweetheart." He kissed her damp, open mouth in quick little pecks, hoping to soften his next words. "Let's go somewhere else."
The slumberous, sated look left her eyes. Her cheeks, warmly flushed only seconds before, went pale. He knew before she answered that she'd refuse. Georgia pushed away from him and covered her face with both hands. In a tone more startling for the lack of emotion, she whispered, "I can't believe I just did that."
Alarmed, Jordan smoothed her hair away from her face with trembling hands. "I can't believe I stopped."
She looked up at him. "You must think I'm awful."
"No." She started to say something more, but he didn't let her. "Shh. It's okay." Even with her heavy stage makeup, she looked precious to him. "Actually, it was better than okay. Much much better."
"But you didn't—" She glanced down at his very visible erection.
"Believe me, I know." Jordan ran a hand through his hair and tamped down his sexual frustration. He met her wary, shame-filled gaze, knowing his own was hot, piercing. "The thing is," he said, his voice sounding like sandpaper, "making you come was a helluva fantasy. And I wasn't disappointed."
"It was wrong."
"No. Hell, no. Nothing wrong can feel that right and you know it." He shook her gently. "Don't ask me to apologize, Georgia. We've both been on the ragged edge since first meeting and it was only a matter of time before this – and more – was bound to happen."
She attempted to turn away. "Please, don't come here again. I can't trust myself around you."
She asked the impossible. The first time he'd sat there and watched her dance, he swore he'd never come back. It ate him up to see all those men drooling over her, to know what they were thinking, that she was the center of so many drunken, lurid fantasies.
But he'd discovered that staying away was even harder. He couldn't sleep for wanting her; she occupied his thoughts both day and night. The few times he managed to get her out of his mind, he found himself thinking about the kids instead, smiling, missing them. And Ruth, too. She was such a gutsy woman, altering a lifetime of social conformity to stand up for her daughter.
"I'm not just here because of you." The second the words left his mouth, Jordan felt hemmed in by his own deceptions. He came because of Georgia, but he did have another purpose.
He truly detested the place, the smells of sour alcohol, sweat and dirt, the foul language and the overall atmosphere of depression. He considered The Swine a major nuisance, perhaps even a threat to the peace. It wasn't a quaint small-town saloon. It didn't provide lively conversation or a relaxing ambiance.
It was run-down, dirty and bred trouble because of a distinct lack of conscience on the owner's part. It didn't matter how staggering drunk the patrons might be, they could always get one more drink.
But because of Jordan's personal bias against alcohol, he'd have left others to deal with the bar if it hadn't been for Georgia. With her working at night, dressed so provocatively, he couldn't bear the thought of any of his friends or acquaintances seeing her.
Georgia looked shaken to her soul. She turned away and began pulling on her clothes over the costume. "If...if you're not here because of me, then why?"
"I'm here," he said gently, trying to ignore the demanding throb of his body, and the pleasant buzz of satisfaction despite his still raging lust, "because the Town Advisory Board had another meeting
."
She turned to him with open anxiety.
"After Zenny and Walt and the others told them what they'd seen that first night, they've been outraged about the whole thing."
"Zenny and Walt?"
Jordan nodded. "I told you I was here with other men that first night? Well, they're the elders of the town, fairly set in their ways, too. When the trouble started they didn't even wait around to see how it'd turn out. They took off and by that next morning everyone in Buckhorn knew what had happened."
Her mouth opened and she breathed deeply. She stared at the far wall. "They know about me dancing?"
He nodded. "That, and the fact the police were called. I'd say folks are suffering equal parts of morbid fascination and outrage."
Georgia closed her eyes on a grimace.
He wanted to protect her from the opinions of others, but she deserved to know what was going on. Given a choice, many of the townsfolk would prefer the bar be shut down. That'd put Georgia out of a job, and into one hell of a predicament. "Sawyer and I cautioned them not to get up in arms, but then last night Morgan arrested two men who were menacing a mule."
Georgia's eyes snapped open again. "Menacing a mule?"
"That's right. They drove straight into a pasture, knocking down fence posts and tearing up the ground. The mule is a gentle old relic, but those bastards drove around with their horn blaring and their bright lights on, chasing her and scaring her near to death."
His fists clenched. He couldn't abide cruelty of any kind, but especially cruelty against women, children – or animals. "They're lucky Morgan found them instead of me. I'd have been tempted to teach them a better lesson than a night in jail, three-month suspension of their licenses, and a large fine."
Georgia's gray eyes were soft and sympathetic. "I thought you were the least militant one in the family."
"They were chasing a poor mule, Georgia, and they destroyed a good deal of property. Of course I'm feeling militant."
She touched his chest, her small hand gently stroking. Since his lust was unappeased, she nearly sent him into oblivion. "They had been drinking here?"
"That's right." Jordan felt far too hot. He wanted her hand on his bare skin. And he wanted it a good deal south of his chest. Just the thought of her slender fingers curling around his hard swollen flesh made him quiver like a virgin. He hurt with wanting her. "Your boss," he rasped, "knew they were drunk when they left here."
She nodded. "Bill could care less as long he's getting paid."
Jordan struggled for breath. He flattened his own hand over hers, stilling her caressing movements. "Morgan is meeting with the sheriff here. He thinks they might hit the bar with a heavy fine." Jordan braced himself against her reaction and admitted, "A lot of people are pushing for it to be shut down."
With an embarrassed little shrug, Georgia said, "I understand." Then she moved away from him. "I need to get going. It's late and I'm tired and I've got some things to do when I get home."
He hated seeing her withdrawal. "Georgia..." He was uncertain what to say. "I don't mean to hurt you."
"I know. But if I lose this job...I don't know where I'll be able to make as much money." She went about pulling on her shoes and slipping on her lightweight jacket. Jordan watched her movements with barely leashed possessiveness.
"You could work for me." He didn't really need more help, but he'd hire her in a heartbeat. In fact, he really liked the idea once he said it out loud.
Her eyes looked silver rather than gray in the dim light. "I'm sure Elizabeth will have something to say about that."
"She'd be glad for the help."
"Nonsense. You bragged to me yourself that she keeps everything running smoothly." With her purse and her bag hanging from her shoulder, Georgia clasped her hands together and silently requested that he stop blocking the door.
Even in his wildest dreams, Jordan couldn't have imagined how badly he'd dread leaving a damn closet. But he had no reason to keep her inside now that she was ready to go. He opened the door and stepped out. "I'll walk you to your car."
"I would object, but I suppose you'd start insisting?" In spite of all that had just happened, she sounded shyly teasing, and Jordan smiled in relief.
"Of course."
Because they were looking at each other rather than where they walked, they almost bumped into Honey and Elizabeth.
"Hey," Elizabeth said. "Great show, Georgia!"
Jordan gaped at them. His sisters-in-law? In The Swine? He said, "Uh..."
Honey pulled Georgia – who was speechless with astonishment – into a tight hug. "I had no idea you were so talented. And I love the costume!" In an audible whisper, she said, "No one would ever guess you'd had two kids. You looked fantastic." Then in a further confidence, she added, "Sawyer would keel over dead if I wore anything that sexy."
Elizabeth laughed. "Gabe would probably faint. After."
"After?" Georgia asked, still looking bewildered.
"Yeah, after he wore himself out." She chuckled. "The man does like to—"
Jordan said again, "Uh..."
"Oh, relax, Jordan," Honey told him, patting at his chest. The touch didn't feel at all the same as when Georgia did it.
He caught Honey's hand and gathered together his wits. "What are you two doing here?"
In unison, they said, "We came to watch Georgia dance."
"I...I didn't see you," Georgia told them, glancing nervously at Jordan.
Jordan felt poleaxed. When his brothers found out, there'd be hell to pay and somehow he'd probably get blamed. "Neither did I."
"Well, we didn't just sit out in the open, silly." Honey looked at him as though he should have figured that one out on his own. "We didn't want to make Georgia nervous. We were in the back corner booth. The bouncer – what was his name, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth smiled. "Gus."
"Yes, Gus made sure no one bothered us."
Jordan glanced at the big no-neck ape who he'd tangled with that first night, and got a sharp nod. Jordan nodded in return. Good grief.
"Anyway," Honey said, waving away the remainder of that topic, "I was positively amazed how well you dance. It's incredible. Even when Jordan fell off his chair, you barely missed a beat."
Elizabeth snickered.
His face red and his temper on the rise, Jordan asked, "Where does Sawyer think you are?"
"At the movies."
His grin wasn't nice. "Not for long."
Honey gasped. "Don't you dare tell! You know he'll have a fit."
"Rightfully so."
Elizabeth shrugged. "I don't care if you tell. Gabe's not my boss."
Honey considered that, then shrugged, too. "Well, Sawyer's not my boss, either, but he is somewhat overprotective."
"Somewhat? Ha!" Elizabeth flipped her long red hair over her shoulder then leaned toward Georgia. "Before you get too involved with this family, you should know that they're autocrats. All in different ways, of course, but they sure do like to hover, if you know what I mean."
Jordan couldn't wait to deliver Elizabeth back to Gabe. "I do not hover."
Elizabeth raised an auburn brow and gave a pointed look at Jordan's arm squeezing Georgia's shoulders.
Muttering to himself, he asked, "Instead of debating this now, why don't we get the hell out of here? Bill's not too happy with me tonight anyway."
"He's not?" asked Georgia.
Jordan didn't want to explain exactly what her boss had said about a drinking limit, or how Jordan had reacted to his apathy. Luckily Honey saved him.
"He's a smarmy one, isn't he?" Honey asked.
Jordan stopped dead in midstep. In lethal tones, he asked, "Did he say something to you? Did he insult you?"
Both Honey and Elizabeth rushed to reassure him, patting his chest and shaking their heads. "No, of course not. He just looks like a weasel."
Georgia laughed. She looked at each of them, saw that they had no idea what she found humorous, and laughed some more. Jordan smi
led, too. The ways that she affected him were numerous. Georgia breathed and he got aroused. But what her laughter did to him was enough to cause spontaneous combustion.
Still chuckling, she said, "I really do like your family, Jordan."
Elizabeth and Honey grinned widely. The moist night air was very refreshing after being in the stale bar. A light breeze teased through the trees, ruffling Georgia's loose curls. She lifted her face into the breeze, breathing deeply. Jordan watched her, wanting her more than ever.
When they reached the parked cars, he played the consummate gentleman. He opened car doors and kissed cheeks and when his sisters-in-law were finally ready to head home, he cautioned them to drive safely.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Honey told him to do the same. They waved to Georgia and drove off.
When Jordan looked down at Georgia, there was still a small, very sweet smile curving her mouth. He tipped up her chin with the side of his hand. "Do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now?"
"You're incorrigible."
"And you're breathless, which means you want me to kiss you, too. Don't you?"
"I'm breathless," she said somewhat smugly, "because Honey and Elizabeth were so complimentary. It's been a long long time since anyone praised me for my dancing skills. And no, don't you dare say anything. The way men view what I do on stage has nothing to do with my actual talent."
Jordan blinked at her. An idea bloomed in his mind, growing, gaining momentum. "Where'd you learn to dance?"
"I took lessons as a child. All the other kids made fun of me for it, but I loved it. I've always enjoyed moving to the music. By the time I was a teenager, I was helping to teach the rest of the class. It's something that's always come naturally to me."
Jordan caught her shoulders and pulled her to her tiptoes. He kissed her soundly before she could object. For the first time since meeting her he felt like he had the upper hand. He could help her while helping himself to get closer to her. He pulled Georgia into his arms and spun her around, lifting her off her feet.