She grabbed his wrist to halt his play, her fingernails stabbing into his skin and not distracting him in the least from what he wanted. “ Jordan , either you finish or let me take over.”
No misunderstanding that.
Jordan hooked a hand under her knee for just the right angle to slide inside her.
Her damp heat clamped around him in time with his own groan. He buried his face in her silky hair, making the most of the advantageous position to stroke her br**sts, so full and apparently sensitive if her writhing response offered any indication.
Their gentle rocking set the sheet slithering to the floor, the brush of chilly morning air doing little to cool the sweat beading on his body. The sunrise slanted through the blinds to play along the creamy expanse of her skin. He set his teeth to hold back the driving need to finish. He would wait for her, watch for signals of her nearing satisfaction.
And yes, his focused attention paid off. Her skin began to flush, her head arching back as she panted faster, faster still…
She gasped out a litany of need as she came apart, taking him along with her in a mind-blowing explosion of sensation. His forehead fell to her shoulder, his eyes closed while he simply felt. Her. All around him, against him. Aftershocks rocked through her so hard she shook in his arms, finally settling with a sated sigh.
As he stroked a hand through her hair, he thought again of how much he enjoyed how she made her needs heard in bed. If he could just get her to be as communicative about her thoughts. Because while she’d been physically responsive, he couldn’t miss that this time she’d held something back. She’d shuttered her eyes from him at the last minute as if closing herself off from him.
He was losing ground at a time when he should be gaining. What the hell had gone wrong?
More importantly, he needed a plan to get back on track with planting his engagement ring on her finger.
Sunday night, Brooke forced her feet to climb the steps toward her mother’s front door, Jordan only an inch from her side. She couldn’t decide which was worse—facing her mother or going back through the gate past the snap-happy reporters intent on snagging photos.
She gripped Jordan ’s elbow tighter for support. As much as she’d been shaken by making love with him again and even feared how easily he could steal her willpower, she couldn’t help wishing they’d been able to stay in the Bahamas a while longer. But she’d promised Brittany they would go over last-minute wedding plans tonight.
The decorated door loomed, bracketed by ornate porch lamps and twinkling garland.
“Hey, beautiful?” Pausing on the top step, he stroked her cheek, thumb grazing her lips with the tempting familiarity of lovers. “You look like you’re heading to the gallows. We can always turn around and leave right now.”
Mother or the media? Tough choice. But there were others to consider.
“We skipped the dinner part of the evening.” She repressed a shudder at the thought of sitting for a meal with all that dissension stirring as tangibly as her roiling stomach. “The least we can do is show up for dessert since I promised Brittany. It’s not like I can exactly hide from my family forever.”
“You’re not alone facing them anymore.”
A sad smile tugged at her lips and heart. “A blessing and a curse.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Thanks.”
Contrition nipped. She shouldn’t take out her bad mood on him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it—”
His thumb tapped her mouth closed. “You don’t have to be the peacemaker with me.
I’m a big boy. I realize it won’t be easy winning your relatives over. Thing is, I’m persistent and determined.”
His words along with the unrelenting glint in his eyes sent a mix of reassurance and apprehension down her spine. “They’re my family. I can handle it. Let’s just concentrate on keeping things as quick and low-key as possible.”
“As you said, they’re your family. You call the shots.”
As long as she didn’t try to send him packing. Then he always stepped in with more pressure for time. Well, she’d wanted to use this time to get to know each other.
This driven part of him, however, she’d known from the start. What was she looking to learn by agreeing to these dates?
She wanted to know the man and Jordan kept his inner self well cloaked behind charm and smiles.
A raised voice from inside pierced through the door. Her mother was on a roll about something, not that it took much to set Bonita off anymore.
Brooke braced a palm against the stucco wall to steady herself. She should have expected this. Were her mother’s drinking and outbursts worse? Or were her own nerves simply edgier because of the pregnancy?
Jordan ’s hand fell from her face to grab her elbow. “Forget it. Let’s blow this pop stand.”
Brooke actually considered taking his suggestion until the door swung open.
Brittany stood framed in the open portal. Eyes wide and frantic, she grabbed her sister by the wrist and hauled. Seemed like everyone was looking for a lifeline.
“See, Mother?” Brittany tugged her over the threshold, delicate diamond bangles jingling on her arm. “Brooke is here after all.”
Her mother swayed in the archway between the living room and the hall with a crystal tumbler that could have been iced tea. Not that it ever turned out to be something so innocuous.
Her normally perfectly coiffed black hair fluffed in disarray around her face, the streaks of gray more visible than usual. For years,Lissette had helped Bonita keep up at least an air of togetherness. Apparently even their housekeeper couldn’t withstand Bonita’s binges that seemed to grow longer each month since her husband’s death.
“Well, daughter dear, better late than never. Where were you and your…What are we supposed to call him? You’re not engaged, and boyfriend doesn’t sound right.”
She stumbled forward to lean on Brittany, her fingers clenching the glass and showing off a chipped manicure. “Isn’t the current phrase baby daddy? Or do I have that backward, Brooke? You’re the baby mama.”
Jordan slid an arm around Brooke’s waist, his jaw tight as he ushered her into the hallway. “Mrs. Garrison, Brooke and I are the parents of your grandchild.”
“Of course I know that.” She waved her drink in the air, sloshing some over the side to spill on the marble floor. “All of South Beach knows, thanks to that horrible media sensationalizing having children out of wedlock.”