Gathering my courage, I grip the knot-tie of my shirt and pull. The material loosens and falls open. The scrape of the coarse denim feels almost sensuous as I undo my jeans with trembling fingers and slide them down my legs until they pool at my feet. I step out of the material and stand before Jordan with my head bowed, not able to look at him. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if I saw disgust on his face.
My chest vibrates with how hard my heart is striking my rib cage as it tries to punch its way out. The quiet that descends over the room doesn’t help. Jordan says nothing, and I finally give in and look up at him. I’m not prepared for what I see: Lust so powerful it almost knocks me back onto the bed with the strength of it. His gaze rakes my body; the desire in his eyes like a physical touch stroking my goose-fleshed skin.
He’s looking that way… atme, and seeing it firsthand gives me confidence.
“Touch me.” His rasp is seductive, and I can’t resist it.
He’s handing me the power, letting me control what happens between us.
Not able to resist, I slip my hands over his shoulders to push his open shirt aside. The Pima cotton fabric slides easily down his arms. I’ve seen Jordan shirtless and bare-chested a few times now. The first time was at the local swimming hole when we were in high school. I sat away from everyone else, reading a book. Or pretending to. I watched Jordan over the pages of my paperback and daydreamed about the boy who had become the object of my obsession. I’m not happy to admit that last part. The word obsession has such negative connotations. But I can think of no other word to use to describe the innocent longing I had for him.
Getting braver, I run my fingertips over the bumps and valleys along his chest and abdomen. I can feel his stomach quiver at my touch as I let my fingers play with the smattering of light brown chest hair that arrows down his torso. When I get to the waistband of his trousers, I literally gulp when I see the large bulge barely constrained behind his zipper. I remember how enormous he felt when he first entered me. How the pain of being taken for the first time disappeared quickly as he moved inside me. I’ve never regretted giving Jordan my virginity. I’ve only regretted how that night ended.
But I don’t have to live with those regrets any longer.
I can just live.
“You’re killing me here, sweetheart.”
I flick the button of his pants through the buttonhole. “Patience. I’m enjoying the view.”
His soft bark of laughter helps relieve some of the tension, and I smile up at him as I lower to my knees, taking his trousers with me.
He inhales deeply, his eyes hooded. “Jesus, baby. You put your mouth on me, and I won’t last. I’m barely holding on by a thread as it is.”
He’s so hard, I can see the bulbous tip of his cock peeking above the seam of his black boxers. The sight of precum weeping out makes my womb dip with a visceral pull, my nipples tighten, and wetness soak my panties.
“Are you clean?”
I don’t want to dampen the mood, but I’m also not stupid. As much as I want him to fuck me until I can’t walk a straight line or remember my own name, I’m fully aware of how many women he’s slept with.
“I was tested two weeks ago, and I haven’t been with anyone else since.”
Two weeks. Right after he saw me at Mickey’s.
“It’s been over a year for me.”
My admission breaks his patience and spurs him into action. Moving faster than I can comprehend, my bra and panties disappear, and he tosses me onto the bed.
“How did you—”
Jordan crashes down on top of me, his biceps bulging as he holds himself steady.
“Hi.”
I love it when he does that. It’s such a simple word, but the way he says it is such pure joy.
His smile is effulgent as we stare into each other’s eyes. I trace his brow line. He really is incredible to look at.
“Hi back.”
Jordan playfully brushes my nose with his. “If you don’t mind too much, I’d really like to fuck you now.”
Chapter 37
I take a moment to look at the remarkable woman underneath me, wanting to memorize every second, every detail of this moment. Because I feel it. That tipping point you happily fall over when you realize you’re in love. That you’ve found the one person on earth who is the beginning and the end for you. Your sunrise and sunset and everything in between.
“What are you smiling at?” Douglass asks, her forehead furrowing slightly. I have a pretty good idea what’s causing it.
