16. Jordan #2
Later, we were on the couch, her knees tucked under her, the remains of dinner forgotten.
My arm was stretched along the back of the couch behind her, fingers twirling the ends of her long hair.
The music was still faintly playing, though the playlist had gone rogue by now, but all I could tune into was her.
“You’re different,” I said with certainty.
Kate turned toward me. “Different how?”
I watched her face, that mouth. God, those full, rosy lips.
“I don’t know…You don’t seem to care about the reputation. Or the press. Or any of the flashy bullshit.” That was all true; she really didn’t. She lived in the real world, had been through shit she didn’t deserve. That meant she wasn’t blinded by the lights of my world.
She tilted her head, her eyes locked on mine. “I mean, I care about you. The rest of it’s just noise.” Fuck. That hit somewhere deep. I didn’t even know people like her existed anymore. I certainly hadn’t met anyone for quite some time. Scratch that—I’d never met someone like Kate.
I took a deep sigh after that. “Most girls I’ve dated…they were more into the version of me in the news or media than the one who falls asleep at 8:30 and spends his mornings in a freezing ice bath.”
She hesitated, then said, her voice quiet and steady, “That’s a shame. Because I think I could really enjoy that version of you.” She paused. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to be made to feel worthless, like I was only good enough when I served a purpose.”
I sat up a little, my jaw clenched.
“Kate,” I said, exhaling sharply.
She shook her head. “It’s okay. It was a long road back, but I’d rather be alone than feel that worthless again.”
That word again. Worthless. It made something stir in me. Something protective, furious, fucking feral. I reached for her hand and held it. I had to make sure she felt it, my touch grounding her in the here and now. I wanted to rip the head off any idiot who made her feel that way before.
“You’re not worthless,” I said. “Not to me. Not even close.” For a moment, the air went heavy between us.
“It’s mad,” I said. “How have I only known you for three days?”
She smiled, her eyes soft and stormy all at once. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
I shook my head. “Feels like I’ve known you forever.” And it really did. Everyone who really knew me knew I didn’t do things halfway. When I fell, it was all in, no brakes. And right now, I was in dangerous territory, because the brakes were failing hard.
Later, we stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink, elbows bumping as we rinsed plates.
She’d insisted on helping, something about manners, and contributing, and not being a complete freeloader.
But she nudged me with her shoulder now, playful, teasing, which was cute considering how much smaller than me she was.
“Are you nervous?” she asked, looking up at me with those blue eyes.
I glanced down at her. “About the match? A little.”
I paused, letting my hand rest on the edge of the sink. “About you?” My voice dropped lower. “Yeah. A lot.”
She froze, looking up at me with wide eyes, her lips parting slightly.
That moment was it; there was no turning back.
She put the dishcloth down and turned to face me.
My hand instinctively went up, fingers tangling in her hair as if I needed to touch her to prove she was real.
I kissed her slowly, deeply, as if we had all the time in the world, not wanting to waste a single second.
She melted against me, letting out a soft sound that went straight through me. Those little noises were my undoing.
I’d meant to keep things slow, to think this through the way a sane man would, but that was never me. Once I wanted something, I was all in, no halfway. And with her, it wasn’t just want. It was that gut-deep certainty that if I let go now, I’d spend the rest of my life wishing I hadn’t.
I pulled back just enough to breathe. “Tell me if this is too much, too fast.”
It probably was, but it didn’t feel that way to me. I just didn’t want to scare her off before she understood how sure I was about this. About us.
Her hands found their way to the nape of my neck, holding on as if she couldn’t let go.
“It’s not enough,” she whispered. Jesus.
Without a second thought, I lifted her onto the counter, her legs wrapping around me like she’d done it a million times.
My hands slipped under her top, tracing her bare skin, and when she gasped, I was completely gone.
Somehow, we made it to the bedroom clothes half-on, half-off, our bodies never separating long enough to care. I kicked the door shut and dropped her onto the bed, following her down like gravity had taken over.
“You have no idea,” I muttered against her skin, “how much I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
She arched under me, her eyes darkening. “Then stop waiting.”
That did it.
I kissed her like I was starving. Like I needed to memorise every inch of her. She unhooked her bra, never breaking the kiss, and when she lay there almost bare, breath catching, I felt everything I should have been fighting off in that moment. Instead, I was giving in because it felt right.
“Jesus, Kate,” I breathed, dragging my eyes over her. “You’re perfect. This tight little body of yours…I’ve been thinking of these perfect tits… and this perfect mouth all day.”
She yanked my hoodie over my head, running her hands down my chest like she had every right to.
Her touch was languid. Like she already knew me inside out.
Her fingers skimmed my waistband, catching the tip of my hard cock.
Her fingers lingered just long enough to make me forget how to breathe.
“Oh yeah? You think I haven’t been thinking about how fucking huge your cock feels inside me? ”
Fuck. Me. Her trousers came off with a sharp tug, the rest of our clothes hitting the floor in every direction, like we’d detonated.
When I looked down at her laid out beneath me, waiting for me, my heart stuttered in my chest.
“Look at you,” I rasped as I kissed the side of her round, full tits. “Fuck. You’re gonna ruin me.”
I ran my hand down the inside of her thigh, the tremor there answering mine. She was already soaked for me, and it hit me how much she wanted this too.
“Already?” I whispered, my jaw tight. “You’re this wet for me?”
She gave the tiniest nod, breath hitching. “Fuck,” she whispered.
That sound would haunt me.
I dropped between her legs, kissed the inside of her thigh, then licked into her, sucking and biting without restraint.
“Fuck, Jordan,” she cried out with a raw voice, and I groaned into her, holding her there like I couldn’t get enough.
Because I couldn’t. Every sound she made went straight to my dick.
Fuelled me further. I kept teasing her with my tongue over her clit.
Her back was arched now, so I curled my fingers into her.
One at first, then another as she moaned.
Fuck, if I could store the image of her like this in my head, I would.
I could feel her tightening around the digits.
She was close. “Jordan…fuck, I’m going to come. ”
“That’s my girl, come on my fingers. You taste so fucking good, baby.” She really fucking did. Her hand slid into my hair, pushing her hips further into my face as I felt her pulsate on my hand. She came, breath out of synch like she couldn’t quite catch up.
She was shaking by the time I came back up, kissing her with the taste of her still on my tongue.
“Please,” she gasped, voice wrecked. “I need…”
“What, babe? Tell me,” I rasped. “Use your words.”
I grabbed the condom from the drawer, thank Christ I’d had the sense to buy a box, and rolled it on with hands that weren’t as steady as they should’ve been.
I lined myself up against the wetness of her pussy, waiting for her to answer me.
“Jordan,” she said, looking straight into me, “you better fuck me. Right now.”
And I did. I pushed into her slowly, letting every inch of it register. She drew a sound out of me I didn’t know I could make. She was so fucking tight and hot around me.
We both froze, forehead to forehead, breath caught in our throats, like we’d just crossed into something otherworldly.
“You okay?” I murmured, brushing hair off her face.
Her nails dug into my arms. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please, don’t stop.”
So I didn’t. I moved deeper. Slower. Her head tipped back, mouth open.