“I’ve made a mess of you,” he rumbled, as he spread more of his cum up her leg and inside her. “Again.”
During his time in prison, he’d written every reason he should never be a father, why he could never measure up to his own dad. That list, scribbled on scraps of paper, still sat in his crappy basement suite in Portland. It held all the reasons he’d told her and more.
And yet, as he collected more of his cum and brought it to Vanessa’s gloriously sticky center, he couldn’t stop the need that pulled at him. It was so much deeper than desire, something primal, possessive, as if his body knew that hers was meant to carry a part of him.
He hated the wrongness and rightness of it warring inside him.
The devil on his shoulder went silent when she whispered, “I love it.” Then moaned, “Jordan.”
His name landed softly in the shower as he turned the jets toward her, warm water running over her head and shoulders. She didn’t speak again until he met her gaze.
When he did, everything within him stilled. Her eyes shimmered with something raw and unspoken. Something that hovered too close to his own heart.
“Thank you.” She reached for him, her index finger tracing his jaw. “For trusting me. I know that wasn’t easy for you, and I hope you don’t feel like you had to, or?—”
He silenced her with a soft kiss. “I didn’t. Giving you all of me felt right.”Like my body knew what my soul had been waiting for, he added silently. He kissed her again because he had to. Because in this moment, he needed to be as close to her as he could.
When she sagged against him, he remembered how tired she must be and gently pulled back. “Let me wash you,” he said, soaping the sponge. “Then, we sleep.” He ran it down her spine to her backside, steadying her when she let out a soft moan.
She leaned against him, her body relaxed. She didn’t resist when he dried her slowly, and she was already drifting off when he lifted her in his arms. By the time he tucked her under the covers, she was already asleep.
Drawn to her warmth, he slipped in beside her. With a quiet mind and a full heart, he watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest until his eyelids grew heavy.
Tomorrow was a problem for future him.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Vanessa woke before Jordan, an anomaly in itself. For a long moment, she was caught off guard by how peaceful he looked. Sleep softened his sharp edges. His eyelashes brushed his cheeks. His lips parted with each steady breath. A glimmer of drool clung to the corner of his mouth, and she bit back a smile. He looked…free. Like all the monsters previously holding him hostage had finally been banished. Maybe she’d helped with that a bit.
What they’d shared last night was infinitely more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced before. It hadn’t satisfied her only on a physical level. It shifted something inside her. Something life-altering. A few short weeks ago, she’d known exactly what she wanted, but now…
She had dreams that stretched across the world. Her career was calling her back. She knew which runways she wanted to walk, which magazine covers she wanted to be featured on. There were bigger dreams too, like being the face of a global campaign, maybe one day starting her own brand. And yet…
This man—this wounded, guarded, fiercely tender man—was making her want things she’d never dared to imagine. Things with roots. Withhim.
Was this what it had been like for her parents? How it was for Lucy and Joel? Was thisnormal?
With a final glance, she slipped out of bed, pulled on her leggings and one of her new sweaters, then padded out to the living room, where she fed Nigel, before she headed out onto the back porch.
The morning wind was refreshing, the salt air filling her lungs and soothing her mind. The view was endless. Haystack Rock stood solid, while the mist hovered over the ocean in the far distance. The fact that she’d fallen head over heels for this place wasn’t helping her current state of mind.
Some yoga might be exactly what she needed.
Thirty minutes later, she was sitting insiddhasana, focusing on the steady crash of the waves, when the back door creaked open behind her. A few seconds later, the rich scent of coffee threaded through the salty breeze. Beside her, the air shifted, and clothing rustled before a warm body brushed hers. She smiled, cracking one eye open as Jordan offered her a cup.
How a man of this size moved so agilely was still a mystery to her. Maybe it was the martial arts. She’d always found it a graceful sport. Almost like a violent ballet. Also, why was she only now realizing she’d never seen Jordan fight? It was probably sexy as hell.
He sat cross-legged, staring at the ocean, sipping occasionally from his cup. Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Another thing she cherished with him—the comfortable silences. She’d never known them before, and God knew there was no such thing as silence, comfortable or otherwise, in the Barone family.
When their mugs were nearly empty, he said, “We should probably hit the road before noon. There’s a lot to do if you want to be in New York by tomorrow.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Time at the beach house had blurred the hours, days, and weeks. The show at The Link seemed like a lifetime ago, and the Cassidy Moore event? She’d been calling it “a couple of days away” for what seemed like forever. Without her phone and the constant notifications, time had slipped through her fingers.
But Jordan appeared to have everything under control. While she’d been napping, cuddling Nigel, and doing porch yoga, she knew he’d been diligently planning.
“You’ll fly on the Morgan jet.” When she gave him an impressed look, he smirked. “I’ve provided security on the jet several times now. Having you fly on a commercial airline, even first class, leaves too many variables out of my control.”
Of course. Sometimes she forgot he was her brother-in-law’s hired security.
