With a groan, she opened a few drawers in the bedroom until she found one stacked neatly with dark monochrome t-shirts.
“Even less surprising than Nat’s packing choices,” she murmured to herself as she unfolded a black t-shirt and slipped it over her head. The extra-large shirt fell mid-thigh, and a waft of laundry detergent and Jordan floated up to her nose. Unable to resist, she lifted the collar and inhaled deeply. If his scent was a drug, she was already an addict.
After brushing her teeth in the bathroom, she padded through the bedroom and out to the kitchen. With the sun up, she took a minute to take in the space. There wasn’t much, which was to be expected. Zeus wasn’t the god of home décor, but there were a few unexpected touches.
An old hand-drawn map of the area was framed and hanging in the hall. A mason jar half filled with sea glass sat on a windowsill. A bookshelf packed with various titles was something she planned to check out later, while a driftwood stool by the door was another reminder she was in a beach house.
The cottage had beach-theme vibes, but in aran out of ideaskind of way. Luckily, she was here now. Maybe she could convince him to go shopping today?
She found him in the kitchen, much like she had yesterday at the apartment. Had it really only been twenty-four hours since he’d cooked her breakfast, popped her on his bike, and brought her here?
He had his back to her, rocking gray sweats and his signature black t-shirt that matched hers. The fabric stretched over his broad shoulders and hugged his broad shoulders.
Now that she’d seen it, she wished he’d take the shirt off. His body was too impressive to hide. But she realized how careful he was about displaying his chest. Not self-conscious exactly, but rather…conscious, like he was aware of what was on his torso and how it might affect people.
She hadn’t noticed the habit until last night. His tattoos and scars were quiet markers of a past he wasn’t proud of and didn’t want to draw attention to.
But she wasn’t anybody, and she wanted to see all of him. Her footsteps were quiet, but Jordan missed nothing. As he filled the coffee machine, his hands stilled when she came up behind him.
“Good morning,” she said softly, running her hands up his spine before wrapping around him in a hug from behind. She’d done this last night, and it hadn’t gone well, but now his chest rose and fell in a deep, contented sigh.
Funny how she saw it now. His scowl and his silent demeanor were a combination of his nerves and his self-loathing. All that time she thought she didn’t like him, when really he wasn’t much different from her.
Resting her cheek against his back, she finally said it: “Thank you.”
“For what?” The words rumbled through his chest, and she smiled, because it was his signature grumble that she adored.
“For seeing all the sides of me.” She pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. “And being gentle with each one.”
He twisted around, gaze catching hers before he hauled her up in his arms like it was nothing, like he’d been doing it for years. His lips crashed against hers with a hunger that stole the air from her lungs. The kiss didn’t ask or hesitate. It simply took. And she gave freely.
One of his hands slid up to her jaw, his warm and steady fingers caressing her there, before moving to the nape of her neck. His grip tightened enough to tilt her head, angling her closer so he could kiss her deeper.
She melted against him, fingers curling in his shirt, heart thudding hard against her ribs. She loved the way he kissed, like he couldn’t get enough, like he never wanted to stop. Like he meant every second of it.
When she looped her arms around his neck, he grabbed her under her ass, spun around, and set her on the counter.
“You,” he gasped before he kissed her again, one hand threading through her hair, the other squeezing her hip. He didn’t finish his thought as he kept kissing her, wedging his hips between her thighs and spreading them wide.
His hand found its way under her shirt, sliding up her rib cage and cupping her breast. He strummed his thumb over her nipple, and she moaned against his mouth. His answering hum of approval sent an electric current straight to her pussy.
“Didn’t even bother wearing underwear?” His palm flattened against her lower belly. “Came to the kitchen looking to get fucked again, didn’t you?”
That dirty talk, in that gravelly voice of his, was the biggest turn-on. She wanted more. When she didn’t immediately answer, he pinched her nipple, making her gasp.
“Yes!” Her head tipped back when his lips found the ultra-sensitive skin under her ear. “It’s all I can think about.”
“Mm. My greedy girl likes what I give her.”
Their lips collided again, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth. The kiss seemed endless, and she lost all sense of space and time, until his fingers slid between her legs and his thumb grazed her clit.
Her head snapped back on a sharp cry. “Sensitive,” she gasped as he watched her through half-lowered lids.
“Too much?” He stroked his thumb around her pussy lips, avoiding the electric bundle of nerves.
“No, no. I want you. I need it, please. It’s just?—”
“Just what, princess.”
