Chapter 38 – Jordan
THIRTY-EIGHT
JORDAN
Warm water laps at my skin. Nipping away at the aches and strains in my muscles. We barely scraped a tie together tonight. Down by two within four minutes of the first period. Michigan State added another goal deep in the second.
We got lucky in the third—there’s no other way to put it. An error that led to our first goal, a power play goal on a bull shit call, and then a breakaway from Jaxon during a line swap, sneaking the puck in with a minute to spare.
No one scored during overtime and shoot out.
No one was excited about our tie either. We’ve had a slow, losing start to the season that has team moral low. I’ve had to remind myself that it’s not my fault.
Personally I played well tonight, except for one pesky mistake that landed me into the boards and nursing a purple bruise. But that doesn’t stop the media from wondering if I could be our problem. And worst, I hate that it’s my brother fielding and diverting questions about my playing.
After team dinner, I snuck up here to clear my head.
I owe Xanie my life for suggesting, then disregarding my simple no, and packing my bathing suit.
There’s an ease that seeps into me as I relax into the side of the tub, a jet between my shoulder blades.
I tip my head back, gazing out the glass roof, constellations that make me wish my phone were within reach, decorate the midnight sky.
It never ceases to amaze me how minuscule we are.
The stars are bright circles in the sky to us, but we aren’t even that to them.
Looking at the night sky always puts things into perspective for me.
The same way being out on the lake at home does too.
It makes my problems feel smaller, life more delicate, less alone.
I kick out my feet, sending a ripple across the bubbling water. Rolling one ankle, then the other. Sinking further into the warmth, an indecent moan filters out of me.
My eyes open to find Jaxon standing over me, headphones loose around his neck and towel folded over his forearm.
“Hi.” Emerald eyes melt into my skin, and his cocky smile does unkind things to my insides. But what’s new? Feeling like this around him is my new normal.
“Hi.”
“Whatcha doing?”
“Sitting in the hot tub.”
“I see that.” His tongue runs along the front of his teeth as his gaze tracks down my body. “Room for another?”
“It’s a public hot tub.”
Jaxon spins to face the lounge chairs that line the pool deck and toes off his sneakers.
I bite my bottom lip to stifle a laugh.
Criss-crossed arms, he curls his hand around the hem of his cropped Celine Dion tee. He works it up and over his back, muscles tensing and flexing—Jaxon does everything possible to warrant my attention.
He’s too good at this. Too good at making me laugh. Too good at making me want him.
It’s annoying how attractive Jaxon is, and even more so that he knows it too. Knows what he’s doing to me because when he waltzes to the edge, the cocksure smirk on his face is larger than ever, a playful hint to one upticked corner and lust in the other.
Water splashes over the side as Jaxon settles across from me. His arms snake over the rough concrete surface.
“Are you going to tell me how good I played today?”
“Didn’t realize scoring was the qualification for playing good.”
“It was the game-tying goal.” He hooks my calves with his legs and drags me across the water into him. My thighs fall to either side of his. “At least tell me what a beauty the shot was.”
I snort, fingers fanning out over his shoulders. “Does hearing you’re a good boy get you off or something?”
“From your lips?” Jaxon runs his thumb along my heavy bottom lip—everything feels heavy with need—stopping in the center and pulling it down. “Yeah.”
“Your goal was a beauty, Greene,” I goad him, letting my hands sink further down his back, working out a kink in his shoulder blades.
“And my playing? Liked the stick work?”
I shift my shoulders. “Could’ve been better. I could help you practice.”
“Is that right? Has the grasshopper become the master?”
“Something like that.” I climb off his lap, returning back to my spot before planting my palms and pushing to sit on the side.
His gaze goes molten, heavy, dipping to the aching spot between my legs. I felt it— I feel it. The triangle of my string bottoms is pulled taut against my clit.
Jaxon, not discreet enough, licks his lips. He stares. I scoot up a hint, maintaining a neutral expression even though my suit applies a welcomed pressure, and drop my knees open to further expose myself.
A languid whimper propels him to me.
Hands bracket my hips as our stares face off.
“Blue.” There’s a warning in his tone. “Baby. Sweetheart.”
“Those are new.” I cock my head. “And I’m not sweet.”
“I’d beg to differ.” His knuckles brush over the tie of my bikini.
It’s the same one from our pool day at Sutton and Elliot’s, except it’s a bit tighter now.
There’s more of a curve to my hips, more developed muscles that support me every time I’m out on the ice.
I thought I loved my body before, but I love it now.
Love how strong and powerful it is. Love how it feels in his hands.
Jaxon’s got to stop reading my mind. “So strong. So powerful. So incredible.” I roll my eyes, and in retaliation he pulls on my bottom, forcing a blissful hiss from my lips. “So perfect. Say it. Tell me your body is perfect.”
“You and your affirmations.”
“You love them.” I do. I love the ones he leaves me on my biology notes when I’m not paying attention, on the coffees he continues to bring me in the morning before class, or the ones scribbled onto sticky notes that I find in random pockets or in my car. “Now, say it.”
“My body is perfect.”
He plants a searing kiss on my mouth. Then along my jaw. Then my neck and collarbone. Working his way down my torso to the apex of my thighs as he sinks down into the water. Each kiss accompanied by a praise, an affirmation.
Jaxon pulls my bikini aside. A finger runs up my slit. “So wet. So perfect.”
“It’s from the hot tub. I was waiting for a while.”
His laugh is husky, hot against my sensitive skin. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
Jaxon
It doesn’t take long for Jordan to become a withering mess. Rocking her hips against my face, taking what she wants. I curl my fingers against the rigid spot inside her and she pulls on my hair hard.
I hear my name, but it’s muffled from her masterfully sculpted and strong thighs squeezing my head. I nip at her clit before lapping at it, sensing how close she is.
Call me pathetic, but I could listen to how she says my name for the rest of my life. In all variations. When it’s said in annoyance or has a sarcastic influx. When it’s in pleasure or from a place of comfort.
I’m obsessed with Jordan Carmichael. She’s the axis I orbit around, the oxygen in my lungs, and the best part of every day.
I work her through her release, kissing her center before standing. Jordan drags me into a hot kiss. Her nails scratch into my skin.
“More. I want—need more,” she says against my lips, tongue gliding against mine. “I want all of you, Greene.”
“Sometimes we don’t get what we want.”
“You don’t want me?” Her head cocks to the side.
I snake a hand around her back, tugging at the end of the dainty, flimsy strings holding her top together. It’s the same one from the pool day months ago. One that’s taunted me in my dreams, had me jealous of clothing, and wanting to do this.
Her top falls into the water and floats away from us.
She gasps when I pick her up, setting her on the steps leading out of the hot tub.
I make quick work of my shorts, gripping my shaft at the base. Work a slow stroke up and down till there’s pre-cum leaking from the tip and her pupils flare.
“Does this look like I don’t want you?” I give myself another pump. “I always want you, Blue. It’s becoming a big, big problem.”
“Looks like something else is too.”
My laugh warms the air. “Lean back and push your boobs together.”
“Like this?” She reclines on her elbows. Blue nails pretty against her tan skin. A freckle on the right is exposed as she pushes them together.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” I enunciate each syllable with a drag up and down my shaft. More pre-cum leaks from the tip. I swipe it up and push it between her cleavage, repeating till it glistens.
I swipe it up, pushing it between her cleavage. Repeat till her chest glistens.
I use the stairs to cover her body with mine and line myself up with the cavity she’s created between her breasts. The hiss that comes out of me as I begin to thrust myself between them is snake-like. And I become borderline feral when she squeezes her breasts tighter around me.
We keep at it like this, steam rippling off the hot tub around us, our bodies dunked in moonlight.
My right arm takes the brunt of my weight as I slip the left between us. I tug at her bikini bottoms till their taut and Jordan’s mouth falls open, forming the softest O shape.
“Not gonna last long,” I tell Jordan, my movements become hasty. Each thrust loosening my control, breath becoming ragged.
Don’t combust. Think of something, anything else, I tell myself, eyes falling shut.
“Eyes on me,” Jordan dictates.
She’s watching me when I open my eyes. She watches the way I move between her. She watches the way my chest heaves. She watches the way I fall apart, spilling onto her chest and her name a desperate cry.
It takes me a minute, then another, to collect myself. Our breathing is in sync as I climb off her and find a spot on the hot tub stairs.
Jordan gazes up at the stars. I study her, memorizing the curve of her profile, the way her cheeks flush, and each freckle. The way her chest rises as she takes slow inhales, mouth only opening a smidge to exhale. Every muscle and curve of her body, recalling what’s hidden beneath the water.
She starts to stir. “Stay. I’ll grab us towels and clean you up.”
I clean her up first before collecting her bathing suit top, tying it when she asks. Jordan sinks back into the water and I follow, sitting next to her this time.
I take one of her calves, kneading the muscles. “What else is sore?”