I’d already been on edge, teetering on that precipice, when he demands, “Give it to me, Douglass. Give me everything.”
And I do because I can’t deny him anything.
My walls clamp down when I feel him begin to thicken and pulse. His pubis grinds against my clit with the force of his next punishing thrust.
“Jordan, I—”
Shatter. Completely shatter. His face buries in my neck, and he groans low as he comes, the sound gloriously masculine.
I take his weight when he collapses forward, his hot breath panting along my skin. I’m flying high with aftershocks and the feel of his body pressed to mine. Running my fingers through the curls of his damp hair, I play with the ends.
“Who needs to run three miles when we could do this every morning instead.”
His lips curve into a smile as they press tender kisses along my neck.
“I’m inclined to agree.”
With a sweet, perfect kiss, he grabs himself and gently pulls out. I slump back on the tree trunk, surprised that my legs can hold me somewhat upright with how much they’re trembling.
“Stay right there. Let me clean you up.”
“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere right now.” I’m still floating and wearing the goofy grin of a woman who was thoroughly fucked by her man.
Pouring water on his shirt, he uses it to meticulously clean me, sweeping kisses along my thigh as he wipes between my folds. He stuffs the soiled T-shirt into the pocket of his sport belt and helps me get dressed. Like having my own Prince Charming, Jordan slips my feet into my running shoes and laces them up. He’s still shirtless, and steam wafts up off his tanned skin in hazy tendrils.
When he rises to stand, he guides the heel of my hand directly over where his heart beats inside his chest. I can’t decipher the expression he’s wearing as I freefall into his fathomless sea-blue eyes.
“This belongs to you,” he says, his voice like the whisper of the wind as it floats along the treetops.
Damn this wonderful man.
I place his opposite hand over my heart. “And this belongs to you.”
Forever.
Chapter 43
Not in any hurry, we leisurely stroll hand in hand along the worn dirt path that leads back to the house. Along the way, Douglass stops to pick a vine of honeysuckle, tearing off the end and sucking the sphere of nectar that forms when she pulls the stem out. She offers me the next one, but I’d rather kiss the sweet juices from her berry lips.
Tucking a yellow flower into her ponytail, I tell her, “Harper would come out the day after it rained and pick a handful of honeysuckle vines, then she’d sit in the courtyard and lick the nectar from every blossom.”
“Who do you think taught me?” she replies, licking a honeysuckle stem.
My thoughts take an R-rated nosedive at the sight. I want her again and have plans for the shower we’ll be taking together as soon as we step foot inside the house.
“After breakfast, you want another driving lesson? Or we could relax by the pool,” I suggest.
She twirls a trumpet flower between her forefinger and thumb. “I’ve messed up your daily schedule enough already this past week. I’m sorry if I’ve interfered with your work.” Her steps briefly pause, and she turns her head to look up at me. “Other than knowing you’re a third owner of Mickey’s, I just realized I have no idea what you do.”
My mouth opens to answer her, but no words come out. Finding my place in this world is something I’ve been struggling with lately. Other than a few investments like Mickey’s and being on the board of Montgomery Pharma that I have no desire to work at in any official capacity, I don’t do much of anything. I want to. I want to make a difference in the world, like Fallon and Aurora do with their nonprofit. I want my actions in this life to matter. For my children to be proud of their father. For Douglass to be proud of her husband.
Where the hell did that thought come from?
“Jordan?”
Her soft voice pulls me out of my stark revelation and self-musings. I swat away a bee that gets too close, attracted by the scent of the honeysuckle Douglass is still carrying.
I know I’ve fucked up with my inability to answer her when she worries her bottom lip. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I shouldn’t pry into your personal business.”
