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 against 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.
She’d thought she could be happy simply enjoying the sexual side of their relationship, but with the cool splash of air bringing a dose of reality, she couldn’t ignore more rational thoughts nudging her as firmly as the tiny foot under her ribs.
Was she greedy to want more from Jordan ? What she saw in Cassie and Brandon’s eyes for each other?
Not that she begrudged her half sister her happiness. Heaven knew, Cassie deserved every bit of her hard-won peace after the tumultuous childhood she’d suffered as John Garrison’s illegitimate child.
Brooke wrapped her arms around her own baby protectively and rolled from her side to her back.
Her parents’ mixed-up union had caused so much pain for so many. John Garrison had hurt Cassie by never committing to her mother in much the same way Bonita and John had torn each other to shreds—yet never letting each other go.
Relationships were complicated enough in and of themselves. Add children and the issues multiplied exponentially.
Brooke turned back to stare at Jordan ’s toned body clad only in his boxers. He could take over her life as fully as his long-limbed body had sprawled over the bed after he finished loving her.
She needed to be more careful than ever to keep a close guard on her emotions.
Chapter 7
Jordan usually hated those first few moments of waking when he had no guard over his thoughts.
This morning, however, he could find plenty to be happy about. Starting with the woman whose bottom snuggled against him, her warm bare skin and the rustle of sheets stirring memories of the night before.
Being with Brooke had been even more amazing than he’d remembered—and his recollections were mighty amazing. His plan for her to grow closer to him was working.
He hadn’t, however, expected how much he would be drawn to her.
For about five seconds he tried to convince himself it had to be because he’d been without since the night they’d shared in the Garrison Grand. Even when his ex-girlfriend had tried to lure him back into her bed, he hadn’t been tempted.
They’d been connected through business dealings, but that’s all it could be.
Memories of Brooke had tormented him then and now, ensuring his ex-lover held no more appeal.
Fresh flowers by the bed wafted sweet scents and an idea his way. He reached past her to snag an orchid from the vase. She’d told him once that she no longer suffered from morning sickness, so he figured it was safe to approach her.
Jordan sketched the flower along her jaw. “Are you awake?”
“Little bit.” She inhaled with a low hum of appreciation.
Nuzzling her ear, he grazed the flower along her arm, teasing the inside of her elbow. “Wannabe more so?”
She mumbled something half-intelligible. He grazed the flower around her br**sts until she peered over her shoulder at him with sultry sleepy eyes. He recalled well that same expression as he stared back at her on top of him when they’d explored more of the positions that best accommodated her pregnancy.
He grinned back at her. “I was thinking we could start working on another of those inventive positions.”
She tried to roll to face him, but he kept her trapped in place with his legs.
“Don’t I get to touch you?”
“We can touch very soon, beautiful, very soon.” His throbbing body echoed the sentiment.
Jordan skimmed the flower lower, along her stomach, over her hip to the very top of her thigh. She wriggled with eagerness. At the glide of her hair against his chest, he almost dropped the orchid.
She snatched the flower from him. “Enough. More.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her contradictory words. Her intent, though, he understood. He slid his fingers between the juncture of her thighs, teasing the core of her and finding her ready for him. She arched against his fingers with that sweet whimper of hers that made him want more—more of her, more time to explore all of those positions. Even the less inventive ones as long as she was the woman under him.