Chapter 19 Jordan
JORDAN
Ishift and stretch before opening my eyes. I sleep so deeply that I feel like I'm waking up from a long slumber.
I turn to the side and my eyes open, the room coming into focus. Across the room, Matei sits in a chair, fully dressed, phone in hand like he was texting. He looks up at me.
My heart jumps from being startled, and I sit up. "What are you doing?"
He locks his phone and puts it away. "I had an early call. It finished, and I came back to check on you. You were sleeping peacefully for the first time since you arrived. I wanted to make sure it stayed that way."
I rub my eyes because I'm groggy, but also to buy myself a few seconds to respond.
"You were worried? Was it because of my nightmare? I'm okay, really," I say, hating how small my voice sounds and that it's not quite 100% true.
Matei stands and crosses the room, stopping at the foot of the bed. His presence towers over me.
"I understand the demons that haunt you when you're sleeping.
They visit me more than you know, and I don't want you facing the same fate because of the cruel world we live in," he says and rubs his chin.
"I told you I'd protect you. That promise doesn't end when you fall asleep.
Whether in reality or in dreams, fluture, I will always come. "
His words, the conviction in them, hit me like a physical blow. It's so overwhelming, I look away, trying to hide a genuine smile that my own brain smashes.
"I don't deserve that kind of… anything," I say to protect myself.
All the men I've dealt with in my life, casual or serious, let me down eventually. No sense thinking I'm worthy of a change now.
Matei moves, coming around to the side of the bed now. I look up at him, his gaze so intense I feel pinned in place by it.
"This is not about what you think you deserve," he says, his voice dark and firm.
"I saw you at the club, how you reacted.
Everyone panicked. Not you." He sits on the edge of the bed.
"You have a fire in you that this world has tried to extinguish, but you can't let it. It's a rare and valuable thing."
He reaches out and his thumb gently sweeps across my cheek. It's soft, and my skin tingles where he touches me.
"I will never put your fire out, Jordan. The opposite, in fact. I want to stoke it. To reignite it. And," he says, pulling his hand away, "destroy anyone who ever tries and fails to see who you really are."
I look at him and smile.
There's only been a handful of times in my life that I was so overloaded with positive emotions that I wanted to cry. I won't, but I take note of it. And since I'm keeping records, it's also the first time it's because of something a man said who didn't then try to sleep with me immediately after.
"Anyway," he says and stands. "You're up now. I have some things to take care of. I will come and check on you in a bit."
I nod, my voice refusing to give me words.
As he walks toward the door, I blurt out the only thing I can say. "Thank you." I pause, clear my throat, and try again. "For what you said and for coming last night."
He looks back at me and nods. "You're welcome. I would never not come."
"Even if you were all the way in Romania?" I ask, surprising even myself.
Jesus, I'm so nervous right now I'm thinking out loud.
He smiles. "What makes you think you wouldn't be with me?"
My eyes narrow and I open my mouth to respond, but I can't think of anything good enough to say, so I close it.
He leaves without another word.
I fall back into bed and put my hands to my face.
I can still feel his touch on my cheek, and his words, his promise, hang in the air, wrapping around me.
My mind is a battlefield right now between Matei, the man who kidnapped me, and Matei, the man who just saw me, like truly saw me, didn't run away, but vowed to protect me.
I don't even know if it's right to think of him as two separate people, but right now I do.
My gaze drifts to the sofa across the room where shopping bags from yesterday sit in neat piles. Chanel. Dior. Gucci. The names alone used to make my throat tight with longing when I'd walk past their windows on my way to auditions that never panned out.
Seeing all of that. And then what he said. It's nuts.
And I haven't even begun to process the fact that we slept together last night. Not like had sex, but actually slept in the same bed. And you know what? I liked it.
I laugh out loud, the sound echoing in the massive bedroom.
How fucking crazy has my life become?
Yesterday I walked down Rodeo Drive buying whatever the hell I wanted, all thanks to a tall, dark, annoyingly sexy Romanian man who kidnapped me and then decided to play sugar daddy without asking for the usual payment.
It's just so unbelievable.
Most men would have definitely forced their hands on me by now. I've learned that lesson the hard way. But Matei? He's different.
It's like he's just trying to drive me crazy.
I mean, I know there's a physical attraction between us.
I can feel it, the way his eyes track my movements, the way his jaw tightens when I walk past him, the way his fingers linger on my skin when he fastened that necklace around my neck.
Even coming in here last night and waiting for me to wake up.
You don't do that to some girl you're not interested in.
And yet he's not like the rich men I know.
Yes, he's overbearing. I mean, look how I ended up here. But he's also not expecting anything of me, which is a complete mindfuck.
Like he's playing some game where he wants me to make the first move.
I sit up again and my eyes land on the Cartier velvet box sitting on the dresser.
I smile despite myself.
If he keeps doing stuff like that, I'll make whatever move he wants.
The thought makes me laugh again, and I swing my legs out of bed. I need to clear my head, so I think I'll take a shower.
I walk across the room to the bathroom, pushing open the door to reveal more luxury I'm still not used to. The shower alone is bigger than any I've ever seen, with all its glass and multiple shower heads.
I turn on the water, adjusting the temperature until it's perfect. The silk nightgown slides off my shoulders, and I step under the spray and close my eyes, letting the heat wash over me.
My hand reaches for the dispenser, some expensive Italian brand that probably costs fifty dollars a bottle, and the scent hits me immediately.
Matei.
I lift my hand to my nose and breathe in. He's all over my skin, lingering from last night when I fell asleep in his arms after that nightmare.
The memory of it makes my chest tighten, not from fear, but from something else entirely.
I felt safe.
More than safe, really. Protected. Cherished, even, in a way I've never experienced before.
My mind drifts to the image of him when I saw him shirtless, all hard muscle and tattoos covering him. The way the ink disappeared beneath the waistband of his underwear, making me wonder what else was hidden there.
The way he looked at me yesterday when I was trying on clothes. His eyes never drifted to the saleswomen, never wandered to the other shoppers walking past. Just me.
Like I was the only woman in the world.
It gave me the sensation of being cherished.
And the things he said to me just now. Seeing my fire, protecting me. His warm, hard body holding me last night.
Heat that has nothing to do with the shower spreads through me.
My left hand slides up to cup my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple. It hardens immediately, sensitive and aching.
My right hand trails down my stomach, lower, until my fingers find my clit.
I rub in slow circles, imagining it's his hand instead of mine. Those strong fingers, knowing exactly how to touch me.
I replay his words, embracing how they make me feel.
I bite my lip to stop a moan from coming out, but it escapes anyway.
The circles get faster, and I pinch my nipple and gasp.
My breath starts coming in short bursts, and I feel electricity start to shoot all over my body.
I'm close, pleasure building low in my belly.
Then, a noise.
My eyes snap open.
Matei stands outside the glass shower door, his dark eyes locked on me.
His expression isn't just raw hunger. It's knowing. He saw me, heard me.
Heat floods my face. My hands freeze where they are.
"I…" The word dies in my throat.
He doesn't speak. Doesn't move. Just watches me with an intensity that makes my skin burn.
He takes a step forward, opens the shower door, and looks at every inch of my body.
I can see it in his eyes, like there's nothing else he wants more. Like my body is his drug.
Fuck it.
I lock eyes with him and slowly start rubbing myself again and caressing my breast. Matei licks his lower lip as he watches me, and the pleasure starts to build in me.
I close my eyes. The water cascades down my body, creating a slick surface to rub myself on.
I go faster, pushing myself over the edge. My body tingles and I tense up and explode. I gasp and moan, my eyes opening to see him still watching me.
Then he reaches in and his hands find my waist and spin me around, pressing my back against his chest. His expensive suit gets soaked immediately, but he doesn't seem to care.
One hand slides up to palm my breast while the other trails down, down, until his fingers replace mine between my thighs.
"My little fluture," he says against my ear, his accent thicker than usual.
Then his thumb finds my clit and all coherent thought evaporates.
The pleasure crashes over me like a wave, and I melt back against him, my head falling onto his shoulder.
His fingers move and one slides into me. I don't care about anything right now. The thrill of it, the absolute wrongness and rightness of it all, consumes me.
"Tell me you want me to make you come again," he growls against my neck.
I bite my lip, unable to form words.
He stops moving and slides his finger out.
"No," I say. The protest escapes before I can stop it. My hips rock forward, trying to find his fingers again.