by Silver James
She rocked up on her knees. He fitted his erection at her entrance and she slowly sank down. Breath hissed from his lungs, followed by a quick inhale as she rocked up again. Setting a slow, easy rhythm, Jolie decided she liked being in charge.
“I see what you’re thinking up there, pretty girl. Don’t get cocky.”
She laughed, arching her back and rolling her hips forward. Cord groaned, and she increased the tempo. His large, slightly calloused hands rested on her thighs, and he squeezed gently before moving to grip her hips. The beginnings of her orgasm stirred in her center, and she lost the rhythm for a moment. Cord took over, thrusting up into her, his hands holding her right where he—and she—wanted her.
“Do you know how gorgeous you are?”
Her skin heated and she tucked her chin, once again faltering in her rhythm. Cord cupped her cheek, and then curled his fingers behind her neck to tug her gently down for a kiss. “Don’t, sweetheart. You are beautiful. Even more now than when we were kids.”
Her protest was swallowed by his kiss. Last night had been hot and heavy and needy. This morning was sweet, forming a connection between them that she’d missed more than she could believe. She didn’t want to think about what might have been. She didn’t want to remember what had been. She simply wanted here and now, the man she’d never stopped loving filling her.
“Ah, Jolie. What you do to my heart, sunshine.”
She stilled, everything slowing—heart, lungs, brain. Noise faded to silence as though her ears had been stuffed with cotton balls. Her vision narrowed to focus on the man lying beneath her and what he’d said, what it might mean. He’d never been one for romantic words. Then he offered that quirky grin and his dimple peeked out. The world rushed back in with a whoosh and she inhaled like a drowning woman coming up for the third time.
* * *
“Oh, Cord.” Her eyes misted as she lowered herself to kiss him again before tucking her face into his shoulder.
Jolie lay still on top of him. Cord didn’t want to move, but he was throbbing inside her. Whatever he’d done, it had been something so right he needed to make notes. And bottle it. So he could do it again. Especially when he made her mad. Then he realized her breaths were coming in little hiccupping sobs. Crap. That couldn’t be good. Could it?
He patted her back awkwardly. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. I’ll fix whatever it is. Don’t cry.”
“You’re impossible,” she sniffled.
Well, so much for the moment. He’d screwed up again, obviously. Before he could ask what he’d done wrong, she turned her head and nuzzled down his jawline, careful of his bruises. Her inner muscles squeezed him and he gasped. The reaction wasn’t very manly, but the feel of her surrounding him made it hard to breathe.
Rolling his hips, he stroked up gently. She met him with a roll of her own. This he could do. He could finish their lovemaking. Make her feel how much he loved being inside her. With great care, he shifted their positions so she was lying beneath him and he now had more control. Her eyes remained closed but her lips were parted and her tongue and teeth worked her bottom lip. He lowered his head to nip at its plump temptation.
Sweet and slow quickly turned to needy and fast. They came together, and he was so spent his arms shook as he braced above her. Hating to break the connection, he also didn’t want to face-plant on her chest or squash her. He leveraged to her side and sank into the mattress.
He lost track of time as he cuddled Jolie to his side. Each time he touched her, each time they made love, it just got better and better. Her presence did wicked things to his body, but it also eased his soul. Cord just managed to swallow the snort that thought prompted. If he spent much more time around this amazing woman, his brothers and cousins would demand he surrender his man card. At this particular moment in time, he would have burned that sucker himself. He didn’t want to be anywhere but here.
The shuffle of feet and heavy breathing caught his attention. He glanced toward the door and saw a shadow moving back and forth in the crack under the door. CJ. Who clearly wanted their attention.
“Jolie?”
“Mmm?”
“We need to get up, sunshine. CJ’s waiting.”
“Mmm.”
“Why don’t you grab the first shower.”
“Mmm?” Her forehead crinkled, and he kissed the V between her brows. He liked it when she made that face and his lips smoothed the wrinkles away.
“Shower. You take longer to get ready so you go first.”
“Oh. Right.”
Cord didn’t mention that he had ulterior motives—such as watching her walk to the bathroom, only to follow a few moments later so he could watch her through the fogged glass shower door. Oh, yeah. He would have to take care of the woody he now sported, but he’d wait for his own shower. If he got in with her now, their son would likely starve to death. His stomach rumbled. Cord would, too, if that noise was any indication.
The shower door slid open and Jolie’s face appeared. “Are you watching me?” She sounded outraged, but he knew she wasn’t.
“Damn straight I am.”
“Pervert.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Her gaze traveled down his body, stopping at his groin. Something twinkled in her eyes, and Cord couldn’t decide if it was lust or humor. “So why don’t you join me?” she purred.
He laughed and palmed himself. “Trust me, I’d love to, but then CJ and I both would starve to death.”
“Party pooper.”
“Somebody has to be the responsible adult.”
Jolie giggle-snorted and slapped her hand over her mouth to diffuse the sound. He widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “I rest my case.”
“Oh, okay.” She muttered something under her breath that he couldn’t decipher before she added, “But you’re gonna get yours one of these days.”
“I certainly hope so. And I hope that you’re the one giving it to me because, honey? I promise I’m gonna be giving it to you.”
Before he could react, a sopping sea sponge flew across the room and nailed him right on his pride and joy with a wet splat. Jolie’s deadly aim had not diminished with the passage of time. “Careful, woman,” he roared.
Stalking toward the shower, full of comical indignation, he plotted his revenge. Jolie cringed in the corner of the stall, which was more than large enough to accommodate two. She’d armed herself with a loofah. Cord plastered a smirk full of male superiority on his face, leaned in and grabbed the handle used to adjust water temperature. He cranked that baby to full cold, slammed the door shut and held it.
“Cord!” Jolie sputtered. “Dang it.” She jerked the door handle on her side, and then beat on the glass with the palm of her hand. “Cord, please! It’s freezing.”
“Of course it is.”
“Let me out, Cord. Before I turn into an icicle.”
Relenting, he grabbed a towel that had been on the warming rack, opened the door and gathered her into his arms. Wrapping her in the towel, he offered to pat her dry. She impolitely refused.
“Get your shower,” she grumped.
Laughing, he leaned in to readjust the temperature. “Sore loser.”
“You bet I am. And you’d best remember that.” She arched a brow and did her best to scowl at him.
Cord stepped into the shower, but looked at her right before sliding the door closed. “I remember everything about you, Jolie.”
Fourteen
Dating Jolie was akin to walking a tightrope. Balancing her needs, CJ’s needs and what Cord wanted was a real stretch. Two weeks of swallowing what he wanted in favor of what would win Jolie over. Two weeks of dodging his family, except where business was concerned. The hell of it was, he didn’t know if he was making any headway with her. He deserved browni
e points for tonight regardless.
They were at the bar of Starr’s, waiting for their table. Jolie was doing Jell-O shots, which came under the heading of A Very Bad Idea. The fact that Cord was matching Jolie shot for shot with tequila qualified him as a finalist for Dumbass of the Year.
When he’d picked her up after work, she’d been in an odd mood—quiet and withdrawn. So here they sat. He needed to shovel some food into her. Preferably food with lots of carbs to absorb the alcohol.
“Drinking game.”
A puzzled expression furrowed his forehead as Cord attempted to follow her non sequitur. “Drinking game?”
“Yesh. Let’s play.” She tossed off another shot and shook her finger in his direction. “Things you wish you hadn’t done.”
This couldn’t end well, especially with her already starting to slur her words. “Jolie, you need to eat something.”
That got an eyebrow waggle from her before she flagged down the bartender for another shot. When he returned with a fresh drink, she downed it.
“I’ll start.” She had to stop and inhale deeply before continuing, “Going to nursing school.”
Cord didn’t expect that to be the first thing out of her mouth. Before he could ask her why, she banged her glass to get the bartender’s attention. “Your turn.”
Leaving you. But instead of saying that out loud, he offered a wry smile. “Suggesting we get a drink first instead of going straight in to dinner.”
“Oh, pooh. Doesn’t count. This ish serioush.” She gulped another shot, wiped her lips with the back of her hand and stared at the top of the polished bar. She didn’t look up, but Cord watched color drain from her face as she said, “I killed a kid.”
And there was the source of her rush to intoxication. “Jolie—”
“Don’t Jolie me. A little girl died in the ER today. We couldn’t save her.” Her voice lost the drunken slur in the force of her emotion. “If I hadn’t gone to nursing school, I wouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t have been responsible.”
“You aren’t responsible—”
“I couldn’t save her, Cord.” Tears leaked down her cheeks, and he wanted to take her into his arms, protect her from the hurt in her heart.
“C’mon, sunshine. Let’s go home.” He tossed money on the bar and urged her to stand.
“Not telling you about CJ.” Diamond-glazed eyes stared up at him as her voice firmed again. “That’s my biggest regret.”
“Mine’s walking away from you.” There. He’d said the words. Truth at last, but she didn’t even glance at him.
He kept her tucked under his arm and moving, pausing only briefly to cancel their reservations. Neither of them spoke on the drive to her house, and whenever he glanced over, her eyes remained closed. He got her to the front door and rang the bell rather than dig through her suitcase of a purse to find her keys.
Mrs. Corcoran didn’t say a word as he guided Jolie inside, his arm around her waist. When he tried to get her to walk toward her bedroom and she stumbled, he gave up and simply swept her into his arms to carry her. The older woman followed and wordlessly shooed him out after he’d placed Jolie on the bed. The woman was still tsk-tsking when she joined him in the kitchen ten minutes later.
“Good thing CJ is already in bed and asleep. He shouldn’t see his mama like that.” She glowered at Cord as if Jolie’s condition was all his fault.
“She had a rough day. They lost a little girl in the ER.”
That news knocked the wind out of Mrs. Corcoran’s sails. “Bless her heart. She takes what happens at work so hard. Poor thing.”
Her glower returned, and Cord raised his hands in surrender. “She doesn’t have to work, ma’am. I’d support her and CJ, or her father would, but she works because she wants to.”
“That may well be, but that little lady needs someone to take care of her.”
“Absolutely.”
Once again, he’d left her speechless—for a few minutes, at least. “So what’re you gonna do?”
“My best, Mrs. Corcoran. I’m going to do my best to convince her that the three of us can be a family.”
* * *
Jolie stared at the rack of Halloween costumes. Where had time gone? How could Halloween be a week away? She and Cord were dating—sort of. And he hadn’t mentioned her drunken confession—thankfully, though he’d dumped her and run, rescheduling their dinner for the next night. Still, she would have been mortified if he’d thrown her admission in her face. Instead, he pushed for more in their relationship.
In general, though, she didn’t allow Cord to spend the night; they used his place as a stopover for sex before he took her home. With the arrival of cooler weather, he grumbled about getting out of a warm bed. She knew he wanted more from her. He wanted a commitment—one she wasn’t ready to give. She hadn’t forgiven him for breaking up with her, and wasn’t sure she ever wanted to.
Her focus had to be CJ, what was good for her son. She had such mixed feelings about Cord—and his family. CJ was no longer the shy little boy clinging to her hand when she dropped him off at preschool. As much as she hated to admit it, Cord’s influence had something to do with that. Okay, he had a lot to do with it.
They did guy things together—Cord and CJ. They’d gone fishing. He’d taught CJ to ride, and her son was turning into a cowboy fanatic. He refused to wear anything but Western boots—just like his dad’s. Jeans were de rigueur. They both had black felt Stetsons, creased and shaped identically. Cord had a picture of them dressed up—same hats, shirts, belt buckles, jeans and boots. They were two peas in a pod, and he displayed the framed photo on his desk for everyone to see. He was so dang proud of being a dad.
Cord got to be the good guy, the parent who gave treats and fun times. She was the parent stuck with the responsibility. She administered time-outs and bedtimes, and said no. Whenever CJ returned from one of their outings, it was “Daddy this” and “Daddy that” and “Daddy and me.” Her son had no room in his thoughts for her. She was losing him as Cord seduced CJ away with promises and presents.
She didn’t want Cord in her life. Did she? Oh, the sex between them was as hot as it had always been. But sex wasn’t enough. She’d thought they had something back in college. Something real and permanent. Boy howdy, had she been wrong about that. And her easy seduction of him on that fateful St. Patrick’s Day was proof. The man’s brains all resided below his fancy Western belt buckle. And no matter how good he looked in those butt-hugging jeans he favored, no matter how sweet he was to her son, Cord was still Cord Barron. The Barrons were...Barrons. Egotistical. Overbearing. Thinking they were entitled to anything they wanted. No matter how much Cord professed to have changed, had he? And what about Cyrus Barron? He was bound to find out about CJ sooner than later. What then? What would Cord do? But more important, how could she let CJ be around the hateful old man who was his grandfather simply because they shared DNA?
Jolie couldn’t figure out why—or when—her thoughts had turned so negative where Cord was concerned. Being honest, she could admit that since he’d dumped her at home, left to Mrs. Corcoran’s tender mercies after getting drunk, she tended to snarl whenever thoughts of him cropped up. She didn’t discuss her feelings with him. He said he knew her. He should know what was bothering her. And besides, it was just like a man to cut and run. Especially this one. He had the history for it. Things got tough? Cord Barron disappeared. Except he hadn’t yet. He wanted to officially acknowledge CJ, make things legal. She panicked at the idea. She didn’t want to hand over that kind of control to him.
Noise filtered back into her consciousness, and she shook away the negative thoughts. Halloween was coming and CJ needed a costume. Jolie flicked through the nearly empty rack and pulled out an Iron Man suit and held it up. CJ shook his head, arms folded stubbornly across his chest. What happened to September
? There was no way Halloween should be right around the corner. Oh, wait...Cord. He’d filled her time—even when he gave her time off from CJ. In fact, Cord had volunteered to escort CJ and some of his friends when they went trick-or-treating, but she wanted to go, too. She checked the size on the Spider-Man costume.
“No, Mommy. I don’t wanna be a superhero.”
“Fine. Then what do you want to be?”
“I told you. I wanna be a cowboy. Like Daddy.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and slid her a sly glance from the corner of his eyes.
She didn’t like that look at all. “What?”
“Nothin’.”
“CJ?” She used her this-is-your-only-warning voice when she said his name.
“If I go as a cowboy, Daddy might bring a horse.”
Jolie did not want to ask. She inhaled, but then screwed her eyes shut and exhaled, knowing she’d regret it. She had to ask anyway. “A real horse?”
“Uh-huh.” CJ’s eyes crinkled from his ear-to-ear grin. “How cool is that, Mommy? I told all my friends. We’re all gonna be cowboys!”
Oh, boy. She didn’t know whether to kill Cord or leave him to the mercy of his son’s disappointment. Making outlandish promises always had consequences, and the sooner Cord figured that out, the better. He’d worked really hard at spending time with CJ and managing to act like a father—at least the times he wasn’t trying to win her over. If she didn’t stay on top of things, Cord would spoil their son rotten without a second thought. He needed to learn not to do that because she wasn’t going to clean up his messes whenever he brought CJ home. She would not be painted as the bad guy because she made and enforced the rules. As much as she didn’t want to, she had to sit down with Cord and spell out the ground rules.
If she was honest with herself, she needed to spell out the rules to herself, as well. She didn’t mean to fall into his easy trap. He was always there, wanting to see CJ...to see her. It was easy to be with him as if time hadn’t passed, as if he hadn’t broken her heart, as if she hadn’t broken his. How did one get over that? She didn’t think there was enough superglue in the whole world to mend her heart. Despite Cord’s sweetness and apparent concern—now. She swallowed her frustration. He’d always been sweet, but she couldn’t trust him to stay.