Chapter 10
When I get dressed for dinner, I wonder if it’s any different than when I dress for a run. I consider every detail, in case of contact. Or, in this situation, flirtation. But at least I don’t have to worry about kidnapping. Probably.
I use every detail to send the message, “No contact,” starting with mismatched bra and panties.
I had been in the process of laser hair removal before my life was ruined, so my leg hair is soft and sparse.
Not that it matters. He’s not going to get a chance to feel my legs.
In fact, I’ll wear tights to prevent any leg contact.
I pass my fishnet tights for a sophisticated argyle pattern.
I’m sure he won’t like them. Guys don’t like argyle, right?
My cream skirt is short, but all my skirts are short, so that can’t be helped. And my sweater is low-cut. Maybe I should switch to a turtleneck, but all my turtlenecks are tight to make up for the high collar. I sigh. A low-cut, but loose blue sweater will have to do.
I bypass makeup, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea. Then, I bind my hair into a ponytail, and opt for my glasses instead of my contacts. Black knee boots instead of sexy heels. One look in the mirror and I think, “Girl, you’re a mess. Perfect.”
He knocks at precisely seven. When I open the door, Max brushes past me to get to Sugar. Jordan stares at me for a breath, and I do the same to him. But the cold brings me back to reality. I curse him, “Stop letting the snow in, get in here.”
He chuckles to himself, “Yeah, sure.” He walks in and removes his winter gear. His sweater is espresso brown and makes his eyes seem even sexier. For once, he’s in trousers.
“You’re dressed up. How come?”
“We’re decorating a Christmas tree. Seems like the sort of thing I should dress for. Like church or something. I dunno. Got any bourbon?”
He’s nervous. Why the hell is he nervous? It’s making me nervous. “I have some bourbon left over, but that’s not what we’re drinking tonight.”
“No?” he sounds so disappointed.
I gesture to the punch bowl on my table. “You like eggnog?”
“Hell yeah, but I don’t serve the grocery store stuff in a fancy crystal bowl.”
I ladle it out and pass the creamy liquid over, before getting myself a glass.
Then, I grate some nutmeg over the glasses.
“This is not the grocery store stuff. This is my family’s recipe for eggnog.
And I wanted to share it with you.” I clink my glass to his, then sip.
Decades of memories flow into my mind, along with the high proof booze.
He looks at his glass with surprise on his handsome face. “That’s potent. Good, too. Careful you don’t put hair on your chest.”
I smile, “My family likes to throw a good Christmas party. But since that’s not really an option for me right now, I thought we’d have one of our own.”
“I’m glad you thought of me.” He smiles.
“Well, to be perfectly honest, you’re the only person I know here.”
He smirks. “Then, I’m glad I’m the only person you know in Floyd.”
“So, how does pot roast sound for dinner?”
“Perfect.”
“It will be ready when we are done with the decorations.” I point to the spruce tree near the living room. We spend an hour spreading out the glass balls and tinsel, while we get silly drunk and chat about our families.
“I was ten years old the first time I made dinner for my family; it was for a special occasion. Never do make the first time you let a kid cook be for a special occasion, it is way too much pressure on them. And when I finished, I was so excited, so proud of myself. Everything looked perfect, the garlic bread, the salad, all of it. We gathered around for my grandparents 32nd anniversary dinner. I watched as everyone tasted their spaghetti and exchanged a glance. I asked what was going on, and my grandfather said with a smirk, ‘Taste it.’”
“And?” He’s hanging on my every word, and it’s nice having someone to share stupid family things with. I’m not sure that’s ever happened.
“Awful,” I giggle, “Oh, it was just awful.”
“What went wrong?”
“I had somehow gotten the salt and sugar confused, and probably the amounts, too. The sauce was sweet like ketchup, the meatballs were salt bombs. It was horrifying.”
He laughs, then asks, “What happened after that?”
I smile at the memory. “I was so embarrassed, I ran to my room crying and tried to hide in there the rest of the night. But then, my family came upstairs, each of them had a bowl of spaghetti in their hands. And each of them ate their spaghetti and meatballs in front of me.”
“Wow, that was so nice of them.”
A lump swells in my throat. “It was. But then I begged them to stop, because I didn’t want them to get sick. We went out for pizza after that.”
“Sounds like they are great people.” Jordan has the kindest eyes I have ever seen.
I wipe a tear away and sniff. “They are.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t. What about yours? When did you first cook for your family?”
“I never did,” he says, as he sprinkles the last bit of tinsel.
“Are you close?”
“Not with my blood relatives. Not really. But I’m still tight with a lot of the guys from the Special Forces. They’re my brothers.”
I nod. “Family is important. They lift you up when you’re down.”
“They do. That’s part of why Wes knew he could depend on me. We’re family.” He stands back next to me and looks at the tree.
“I’m sorry I was so mad at Wes, but you understand, right?”
“Not a problem. I get it. Do you want to put the star on?”
“Yes,” I take the silver shiny star from the package and reach for the top. “I can’t get it. Here, you’re tall enough.” He smiles but doesn’t take it. Instead, he gets behind me. I giggle nervously, “What are you doing?”
“Just let me. Arms up.” He grabs me by my hips, and I squeak in surprise. Then, Jordan lifts me up. I can’t believe he’s doing this, but it is more fun than a ladder. I place the star on top, and he gently sets me to my feet right in front of him. “There we go.”
I have no urge to move away from him. He smells like the outdoors and his body feels like comfort. Jordan oozes sex and safety, and I just want to be wrapped up in that. I turn around and I’m face to chest with him. I look up in those dark brown eyes. I am drawn into them.
Jordan stares back. He asks, “What is it?”
“When I’m with you, it’s the only time I get to talk about my life from before.
And it’s the only time I’m not constantly thinking about the windows and doors, I’m finally not thinking about whether I can use a lamp for a weapon, and worrying about every possible angle for someone to get to me, and I—"
He kisses me. And my mind goes completely blank. Until a surge of longing lifts my hands around his neck. Jordan pulls back, “Wait, wait.”
“What?” my brain is fuzzy.
“I don’t think this is what you want.”
“What’re you talking about?”
He takes a deep breath, like it pains him to say the words, “Your hair is up, no makeup…you’re dressed like you’re not trying to impress me.”
“I’m just…” Damn, he’s smart. Why’s he gotta be smart? “I’m not—"
“You failed, by the way.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You failed at trying not to impress me, Stella. Your glasses, the no makeup thing…you’re even more gorgeous like this. You look more like yourself, and you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I launch myself up at him, pulling him down to my lips.
This time, he wraps me in his arms, just like I wanted.
As we kiss, I jump and hug my legs around his muscular body.
He supports me by grabbing my ass. Then, Jordan turns and sets me onto the couch.
He kneels on the floor between my legs, while I hitch my skirt up.
He unzips my boots, and they hit the floor.
Oh hell, the tights. I whisper, “Let me get these off.”
“Let me help,” he says.
I nod, and when I shimmy, he pulls. Tights are so clumsy to remove, and by the end of it, I almost smack him, and we get the giggles.
Then, he kisses me again, as he pulls my panties off.
His tongue gives me shivers, while his thick fingers walk up my inner thighs and between them.
I purr into his mouth when he finds my clit.
My hips jump and twitch, while he plays with me. He hasn’t found my rhythm, so I search for his. It’s almost too much, but then Jordan stops and pulls away. I pant, “What—"
He yanks my body to the edge of the couch, so my hips are almost off it. My skirt rolls up in the motion. I yip in shock, before he spreads my legs open, tosses my legs over his shoulders, and licks all over me. I gasp, “Oh my god!”
He moans as he tastes me there. His tongue feathers around my clit up, down, and side to side, until my hips try to meet him. Oh god, he’s found my spot. I close my eyes, lost to the sensation. Then, his strong arms strap around my legs and hold me in position.
My fingers weave into his brown hair, and when I get close, they tighten. My legs shake in his arms. I whine, “God, I’m so close!”
“Mm, hmm,” he groans against me. He doesn’t change pace—he perfectly stays on target.
I release his hair, for fear I might pull it out. I grip the edge of the couch instead. My blood soars through me, and I gasp, right before I come on his mouth. I ache in orgasmic tremors afterward, and Jordan leans up and kisses me. He whispers against my lips, “You taste incredible.”
“You’re amazing,” I pant. I reach between us for his belt buckle.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought that was obvious.” I smirk.
He shakes his head and pulls my skirt back down. “Not now.”
“You don’t want to?”
Jordan smiles, “Not just yet. Relax, that seemed pretty rough on you. I didn’t hear you scream like that the other night.”
“About the other night, that’s probably because I didn’t have a chance to breathe in enough air to scream before my orgasms hit.”
“Yeah, you were pretty athletic about it,” he says.
I shake my head, “I didn’t know it was coming like that. I don’t…I’ve never orgasmed during penetrative sex.”
“Wait, really?” He sits up.
“Yeah. Never.”
He teases, “That why you’re so anxious to get me naked again now?”
I laugh, “Maybe.”
“Well,” he gets up, then pulls me to my feet, “I’d hate to deny a lady what she wants.”
I giggle, “Yeah. What kind of a jerk would do that?”
Jordan takes my hand and leads me to my bedroom.
I land gracelessly onto the bed. He bends down and kisses me, before he helps me pull my sweater off in the moonlit room.
His hands cup my breasts over my lacy bra, and the warmth feels wonderful.
It’s so intense, I can feel my whole body tingle from it.
Then, he presses me back until my head finds the pillow.
I pull my skirt off, and I’m nude and aching for him on my bedspread.
Jordan gazes into my eyes, while he quickly strips down.
His body is strikingly masculine, like a lumberjack.
One last lingering look, before I take off my glasses and set them on the nightstand.
Then, I open the drawer and pass him a condom from it.
He unravels the thing down his tree trunk of a cock and joins me on the bed.
I snuggle against his chest, before he holds me close.
Everything I want is in these arms. He rolls on top of my body, and I open myself to him.
This time, there’s no hesitation. He knows just how ready I am.
Jordan thrusts his thickness into my wet pussy.
He twists his hips, side to side, on each push.
It’s like he’s trying to hollow me out with himself.
I grab his shoulders, cock my hips, and ride up to him.
The delicious pressure builds inside me, as he begins to thrust straight into me.
He kisses me long and deep, his grunts are music to my ears.
Inches of him tease my G spot, while his pubic bone rhythmically hits my clit.
My back arches and our lips part. I gasp, “Oh, hell, Jordan, YES!”
“Stella, come for me!”
I melt onto his shaft and cry out from underneath him.
Jordan doesn’t slow down or let me rest this time.
It’s almost too much, and I grab the bedspread.
The pleasure is unreal, so I need something to hold.
He pounds away at me, harder and harder, until another orgasm takes my breath away.
This scream is near silent, save for the squeak at the end. Then, he kisses me roughly.
Jordan pulls out, rolls me to my side, and lines up behind me.
He glides himself into me from behind and starts up again.
He bites my shoulder and grabs my hip. I reach for the headboard—I need leverage to meet his thrusts.
Our sweaty bodies smack together, until he releases my shoulder.
Then, he rolls me onto my stomach, staying in me all the while.
He reaches beneath me for my clit once more, then hammers into me.
I hang onto the headboard, this time for something stable to hold.
It’s all I can do to breathe beneath him, but the lack of oxygen works to build my orgasm fast. I’m pleasantly dizzy once more.
My body throbs and thumps, and this one swoops in on me like a hawk attacking her prey.
My head flies back and hits his chest, but Jordan doesn’t stop or even slow down.
He pulls me onto my knees, then shoves my head into the pillows.
I’m face down, ass up, and he bangs into me from behind.
There’s no gentleness to it whatsoever, and I’m loving every second of it.
He pulls my ponytail, which causes my head to lift.
I bounce back to meet his plunges, which brings me another orgasm, but this one is more like a sweet yawn in my abdomen.
He growls, then thrusts deeply into me as he finishes.
His whole body locks up, then collapses onto mine. Under his great weight, I am absolutely breathless. I tap his hip, and eventually, he tumbles away. His weight on the bed forces it to crater, and I roll onto him. I’m tucked into his body, safe and satisfied once more.