But as he stood there, watching Jordan in silence—as her own tense, questioning silence filled the space between them—Davis knew he wanted much more from this woman than he’d ever found with the girls who followed The Local Youths around on tour. This wasn’t a game Davis was playing… not anymore. Jordan had assumed a place of real importance in his life. Just when that had happened, Davis couldn’t say, nor could he tell how significant those feelings might turn out to be. For now, all he knew with sudden clarity was that Jordan was more to him than a conquest—more than a mere proof that he hadn’t lost his edge.
In two days they would say goodbye, never to see each other again. Maybe Jordan would be glad of that, but Davis didn’t look forward to their parting. A fierce need for one more chance with her, one more blissful hour with Jordan in his arms, gripped him so tightly he nearly gasped aloud. But as badly as he wanted to hold her again, he wouldn’t piss her off more than he already had by taunting her into it. Once they said goodbye, Davis would remember Jordan with the warmest of feelings—the hottest of feelings. He didn’t have much hope that she would look back on their time together with a smile, but at least Davis could try to minimize her scowls.
“Hey,” Jordan finally answered. Then, as if speaking had broken a spell that haunted her, she abruptly shook her head and half turned away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
The sudden shyness and uncertainty was so unlike her that Davis couldn’t help a surprised chuckle. “It’s all right. What did you want?”
Davis had thought perhaps she only wanted to call his attention to some more amazing scenery or let him know the boat would be sailing again soon… but when Jordan bit her lip and allowed her gaze to rake his body, Davis tensed with thrilled disbelief. His immediate instinct told him to make some sly, self-congratulatory remark: Oh, so that’s what you want. Such a comment would have suited a groupie just fine—they were as much about the game as he was. But Jordan was an altogether different animal.
Silently, Davis stepped back into his cabin, out of her line of sight. But he left the door open. Would she come to him, or had she already gone too far for her own comfort? He heard footsteps on the shining teak floorboards and couldn’t tell whether they were coming nearer or retreating toward the ladder—toward her exit. But just as Davis was sure she was leaving and his heart began to sink, Jordan appeared on the door’s threshold.
She stared at him with wordless intensity. A faint tremor of anticipation wracked her body. Her face was pale, her lower lip still held in her teeth. Davis said nothing, but spread his arms wide, offering his embrace. And though he saw her throat tense as she swallowed hard against her inhibitions, she stepped forward, into his arms.
Davis held back a groan of eager wonder as he pulled her slender body against his. She felt so good, so right. Nothing in his life felt like this, not anymore—purely positive, a source of intoxicating delight, with no hint of worry, sadness, or fear. He bent his neck and pressed his mouth against Jordan’s neck, but he didn’t kiss her—not yet. Slowly, he inhaled the scent of her skin and hair, savoring the one thing in the world aside from music that could soothe him. She smelled like the warm sun and the bright, clean salt of the water, with a faint, clinging undertone of diesel—a strange scent on a woman’s skin, but all the more compelling for its unusual nature.
“Kiss me,” Jordan whispered hoarsely.
“Are you sure you want—”
She pulled back from his embrace so she could gaze up at him, and her dark brown eyes were serious. “Yes, I’m sure. I want you to do what you did before. All of it.”
He could see that the admission cost her some effort, and he frowned slightly, wondering why. Then he felt the shivers wracking her body—were they caused by anticipation or anxiety?—and he understood exactly what she meant.
He held her by the chin and tilted her face up. “You mean you want me to call all the shots again?”
Jordan nodded in his grip.
Davis kissed her with a sudden force that made her gasp through her nose. Her shivering grew stronger and she bunched the sleeves of his t-shirt in her fists, as if she might possibly tear off his clothes, if only she could overcome the weakening of her knees, the fluttering of her heart. His cock throbbed in jeans that suddenly seemed far too tight, and when he pulled her hips against his own, a delicious ache spread from his groin until it pulsed throughout his entire body.
When she felt how hard he was, Jordan uttered a soft whimper—a sound that only fueled Davis’s hunger. He kissed her more forcefully, gripped by a desire to have her, to consumer her greedily, sating his need on her trembling but willing body. Her back bent under the force of his kiss; he could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest.
Without breaking their kiss, Davis pushed her backward, one step at a time, until her butt came to rest against the edge of the bed. He reached down and held her, cupping her firm, round ass with both hands. He wanted to go slowly, to savor this moment and make it linger so he could have plenty of vivid memories to keep him company when this vacation was far in the past. But his ravenous desire to take her was too great. The way she had come to him, shaking and shy, all but confessing her need to give him control… it turned him on more than any woman ever had before. There was something magical about this: the ruthlessly straight-laced, downright bossy captain melting in his arms, changing into someone he almost didn’t recognize—panting with need, submitting to his commands. The secret juxtaposition in Jordan, her dual nature of rigid commander and purring sex kitten, tore Davis’s senses away completely. Desperate to have her even while she writhed in his arms, he tightened his grip on her ass until she whimpered with mingled pleasure and pain.
“Sorry,” he muttered, afraid he had really hurt her.
But Jordan answered by biting his lip, her hands stroking up the back of his neck into his hair. Davis shivered at the opposite sensations, the lightness of her touch and the sharp pinch of her teeth.
He leaned her back until she lay on the bed. Davis held back, waiting to see what she would do, whether she would try to speed things along as she had before. She gripped the hem of her tank top, but made no attempt to remove it. She only twisted it in her fingers, giving a small, high whine of frustration.
“What do you want?” he asked gently.
Jordan bit her lip again, but said nothing.
“Tell me.”
She writhed a moment, fighting with her inner need to remain in control. But she finally admitted with a gasp, “I want you to fuck me.”
“Oh, you do? Do you…” Davis pulled off his own shirt, but still Jordan kept her clothes on. She stared hungrily, desperately at his body, though—lingering on his bare chest and his flat, hard abs.
“Sit up,” he told her.
She obeyed eagerly. Davis reached beneath her shirt and pulled it slowly upward, letting his hands trail up the smooth skin of her back. Jordan shivered and moaned. He tossed her shirt aside, then hooked one finger under the strap of her bra and drew it inch by inch down past her shoulder.
“Please,” Jordan panted desperately.
“Please? Please what?” Why did it enthrall him so much, to see a woman as strong-willed as Jordan begging? He pulled down her other bra strap just as slowly.
“Please… please…” But she couldn’t seem to get out any more words.
Davis carefully unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, too, never taking his eyes from her breasts. They were small, but high and round, and the pale skin of their undersides seemed to call to him. He pushed Jordan back again and tasted her there, running his tongue slowly along the lower curve of each breast.
Jordan’s back arched; she drew in one tremendous breath and then made no further sound, rendered utterly helpless by the sensation. But when Davis took her nipple into his mouth, sucking and circling with his tongue, she let out a long cry of passion.
Davis kept it up, moving from the left to the right, until Jordan’s moan turned into short burst
s of panting. She grabbed his hair in her fists. Davis stopped, unsure whether she was calling the whole thing off. He pulled back from her chest to give her a questioning look, but the fire in Jordan’s eyes leaped up hotter than ever before.
“I want you to…” She faltered.
“What?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting against all her instincts to remain in control. “I want you to…”
“Say it,” Davis teased. “Say it, or I won’t do it.”
“God!” she growled. “You are such a jerk!”
He leaned down, close to her ear, and whispered, “You love it. You love that I’m in control. Now come on… say it. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you.”
“Come on,” she pleaded, with a sound that was half laugh, half sob.
Davis grabbed the tab of her jeans’ zipper and drew it down slowly as he whispered in her ear, “You want me to fuck you.”
“Yes!” Jordan practically shouted. Exasperation warred with arousal. “Fuck me!”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it? All you had to do was ask.” He backed away to get the condom while Jordan slithered out of her jeans. Her pink cotton panties quickly followed. Davis held the packaged condom up between his fingers. “Do you remember what I like?”
For answer, Jordan bolted up from the bed and swiped the package. She tore the wrapper open with her teeth and had the condom on almost before Davis realized what was happening.
“Whoa,” he laughed. “Slow down there, Speed Racer.”
“No way. You already made me beg. You don’t get to hold out on my any longer.”
“Oh, I don’t?” Davis guided her back down onto the mattress. “I kind of think you liked begging.”
She bit her lip and blushed.
Davis could have kept the banter going—Jordan was impossibly cute when she was out of her element—but he sensed she was reaching the edge of what she could tolerate before playfulness turned into fury. He kissed her instead, long and slow, and with his hand on the back of her neck he felt the rigidity drain out of her body, felt her melt in his embrace. When she sagged back onto the mattress with a sigh, Davis knew she was ready.
He took her hand in his own, so that they could guide him in together. She was so wet from his teasing that he slid in easily; Jordan gasped at the sensation and let out her breath in a long moan of pure pleasure.
Davis rocked his hips into her, trying to keep his rhythm slow, to keep pace with her breathing. It was hard to hold back. It seemed he could feel her with every nerve in his body, her tight warmth and the silkiness of her skin pressing in all around him. Her very presence seemed to push him closer to the edge all the time, but he didn’t want to come yet. He didn’t want to stop, or even slow down, either. To alter that rhythm at all seemed a crime Davis just couldn’t bring himself to commit. The steady slide of their two bodies, the warm friction between them, became his entire existence. Her short, sharp moans, panted out in time to his thrusting, drove him closer all the time. But even as he skirted the edge of bliss, Davis chided himself to back off, to wait, to make this last longer.
Finally, with a monumental effort, he slowed and stopped.
“What?” Jordan panted. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just…” He pulled out gently, then stretched along her side.
“What are you doing?” Jordan sounded almost frantic; she clearly didn’t want the fun to stop any time soon.
She began to roll towards him, but Davis grabbed the curve of her hip and with one strong, sure motion, he flipped her over. She sputtered, somewhere between indignant and impressed with the move.
“On your other side,” Davis said hoarsely.
Jordan hesitated.
The need to be inside her again was beating at Davis’s chest, filling his head with a buzzing sound and a pressure he couldn’t alleviate any other way. He grabbed her and rolled her again, so her round, smooth ass was against his belly.
Immediately, Jordan understood what he was after—and she clearly approved. She gave a wordless purr of excitement and arched her body, pressing her butt harder against him. For a woman who admitted to limited sexual experience, she was a natural—instinctively, she hooked her leg back over his hip to give him clear access. In a moment he was inside her again, and his slow, steady rhythm resumed.
But this time he was focused on her, not himself. He held and massaged her breast as he fucked her, teasing her nipple and caressing the sensitive skin of its underside until her moans rose to ragged cries of delight. When his hand drifted lower, down to her smooth stomach and further down still, Jordan went mute with the force of her pleasure.
Davis worked at her steadily, circling in time to the rhythm of his hips. It wasn’t long until he felt her tighten and her back arch. She gasped once, and as she came her voice returned in one long, drawn-out moan.
When she shuddered and relaxed, Davis whispered in her ear, “Wow.”
“Wow is right,” she said weakly. “What about you?”
“What about me?” He kept up the same steady beat, but the need to come was burning inside him, throbbing along every vein and nerve in his body.
“You’re not going to make me beg for this, too, are you?” Jordan laughed.
“Beg for what?”
“For you to come.”
Those words on her lips did Davis in completely. With a groan of surrender, he grabbed her hip hard and thrust into her. After such a perfect, lengthy build-up, four or five fast strokes was all it took. He bit into her shoulder as he came; Jordan gasped, pressing her ass back against him, which only sent the waves of heat rippling harder and faster through Davis’s body.
“Oh my God,” he murmured as he collapsed, drained of all energy.
“You bit me,” she said playfully. “You vampire!”
But the smile slid from her face, replaced in a heartbeat by a look of anger—and maybe fear, too.
Davis raised himself up on one elbow. “What’s wrong?”
But as Jordan bolted off the bed, grabbing for her scattered clothing, Davis heard it, too—and realized why she was suddenly so upset. The grumble of an approaching boat’s engine sounded loud and clear over Jordan’s muttered curses.
Emily and Storm were coming back. They were practically back on board already.
.14.
Jordan jerked her shirt over her head before she realized she’d forgotten her bra. “Damn it!” She pulled her arms back through her sleeves and wrestled the bra’s band around her body, frantically yanking its straps up over her shoulders.
Davis dressed with considerably less haste. As he watched her struggle, he laughed softly.
“It’s not funny!” Jordan snapped.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve always found it amazing, how women can work their bra magic without taking off their shirts.”
“Yeah, it’s a real riot,” Jordan said drily.
She risked a glance out the porthole. She couldn’t see the Coriolis’s tender now, but she could hear its engine drawing closer to the boat all the time. She slid back into her jeans without bothering to find her panties, which were hopelessly lost somewhere in the thoroughly thrashed mess of Davis’s bed. She ripped the elastic from her ponytail and flung it off into the cabin, then pulled her fingers through her hair, hoping she wouldn’t go above to meet her crew sporting obvious sex hair. When she was as put-together as she could ever hope to be, she shouldered past Davis without meeting his eye.
“Hold on,” Davis said gently, laying a hand on her arm.
The contact made Jordan’s stomach flutter. For the briefest moment she marveled at it—even after the intense passion they’d just shared, his smallest touch had the power to excite her. But she pushed the warm feeling away with savage resolve. No matter how good Davis made her feel, Jordan’s desire for him had almost cost her everything.
This was where spontaneity led. Bitterly, Jordan remembered what she’d said to Emily just before this strang
e voyage had begun: People who don’t plan and focus make stupid decisions. They do things they regret later. They do things that make them miserable! She certainly regretted this encounter now, as the tender’s motor rumbled ever closer. And she would have been miserable indeed if Emily or Storm had caught her rolling around with Davis inside his cabin.
This isn’t who I am, she told herself. But even as she thought the words, her heart lurched with rebellion. This was dangerous, a silly risk—but her speeding pulse told her she’d risk almost anything to be with Davis again… and again.
She shook off Davis’s touch. “Don’t! I can’t believe I was so stupid… again!”
Davis’s mouth twitched, flinching from her words. Jordan recoiled from the momentary flash of hurt in his eyes, but in less than a second he was back in control, donning the unperturbed, arrogant-cool mask of the consummate rock star. He leaned casually against the cabin’s wall. “Stupid, huh?”
Jordan’s throat constricted. “I didn’t mean…”
He shrugged. “Hey, it’s cool. Whatever, man. That’s just the way it is, you know? Have a little fun, and then… on to the next thing.”
Her face heated, and a loud roaring filled her ears that had nothing to do with the tender’s engine. This shouldn’t have surprised her, she knew. What else could you expect from a rich prick like Davis? Men like him were all the same: users, who thought their money entitled them to anything they wanted from those less privileged than they. Anything.
What did you expect? Jordan chided herself. Then she decided firmly, You aren’t upset by this. You aren’t surprised. This is nothing more than what you expected all along. He’s a jerk, just like all your other clients, and you certainly were not developing any feelings for him.
“Yeah, well,” Jordan said fiercely, “it sure is going to be ‘on to the next thing’, because this thing will never happen again.”
Rock the Boat: A Griffin Bay Novel Page 11