by Hoff, Stacy
“Trying to cover yourself up won’t work,” he whispers, his soft voice tinged with amusement. “Not with only your two small arms to aid you.”
“I’m not trying to cover myself,” I stammer. “I’m trying to make my body stop shaking.”
“This is not the kind of shaking you should try to stop. In fact, I’m here to induce it.”
“I don’t know if I can handle any more. I—”
But his mouth is on mine again. I can tell from this kiss that his demeanor has changed. No longer casual and exploratory, he is now driven. His entire body has morphed into steel. My skin reacts to the hard feel and I burn. Our pounding blood deafens me. My gasped breath draws all air from me. There can’t be more. This has to be the maximum capacity of what I can take.
I feel him shift away from me for a brief moment, and then hear the sound of a foil packet tearing. Followed by the soft fall of pajama pants landing against some corner of the room. I feel the weight of his body as he slides on top of me. I feel his heart pounding wildly, but somehow in rhythm with mine.
“Make love to me,” I whisper in his ear.
And he does.
CHAPTER 31
Sensing sunlight, I try to wake from a hazy sleep and figure out where I am before I open my eyes. This place doesn’t feel like home. It’s softer, warmer.
The memory of last night floods back to me. I’m in our room at the Inn. Jordan and I are in bed. It’s the morning after. Holy shit.
I’m faced away from him, and he’s playing with my hair. I can feel him bending the strands, wrapping them around in his fingers. He must see my eyes flutter open.
“Hey. I’m learning you can be a late sleeper.”
I turn around to face him. “What time is it?” I mutter.
“Doesn’t matter. How do you feel? Are you in any pain?”
“Sore, but good.”
He looks alarmed.
“I was referring to my back,” I clarify. “Being on the floor can do that to a person you know.”
“I feel a little guilty I got away with doing all of last night’s activities unscathed,” he says, smiling. But his expression grows serious. “Given the circumstances, I hope last night was even a fraction as wonderful for you as it was for me.” He lifts my hand up to kiss it. “Tell me how it was for you. I’ve never been with a virgin before, so I don’t know how women handle it emotionally afterward.”
“This was not a science experiment, so there’s no need for me to analyze it for you. Besides, there is some embarrassment to the situation,” I confess with a half-smile.
“Embarrassment? Is that what you’re feeling?”
“It’s one of my feelings right now, yes.” My face is flushing with heat. Terrific. I’ll be redder than my negligee.
“What else?”
“Uh, I’d rather not go into it.”
“Why is it so hard for you to open up to me?” he demands.
Damn. Why is he so determined to pluck out and inspect all of my emotions? He already had my body, can’t he leave my mind to me? “I think you accomplished having me open up pretty good last night,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster.
“Not funny.” He frowns. Pausing, he tries a gentler tone. “Open up to me, please? I’m going a little crazy from not knowing what you’re going through.”
God, he can be a persuasive bastard. “Fine,” I say stiffly. “I’m afraid to think how many women you could compare me to. And even more worried as to how I stack up.” My throat tightens. “They were all more experienced than me, so maybe they could have given you a better time last night than I did.”
“Before I respond, is that everything?”
My voice wavers. “Almost. Last night almost made me cry because I’d never felt so wanted, and so sexy in my entire life.” I pause, not sure I know how to verbalize the rest of my feelings. “It’s also a little scary that your touch can have such a wonderful effect on me. You could basically just look at me now and make me quiver. Which makes me all the more vulnerable, because I can’t be sure you want to be with me again.”
“That’s everything?”
I nod. Somebody should give me a medal for being this open with anybody, let alone him.
“Sue, last night was pure fire for me. I have obviously been with women before, I’m not going to lie about that. Maybe the difference last night was that it was with you. You are melting my heart after a long, cold frost. I’ve been wanting you, and waiting for you for so long. When last night finally happened, it was more magic than sex. The fact you were willing to give yourself to me, knowing what that must mean to you, just, I don’t know how to explain it to you . . . it ignited me. You’ll have a residual problem from all this—I am definitely going to be with you again, even if you try to beat me off with a stick.”
Wow.
“Please know,” he says, “it’s as important to me as it is to you that I am your first. Does that adequately address everything you’re feeling?” He doesn’t wait for my response. He puts his hands around my waist and tries to kiss my neck.
“Jordan, stop,” I say, laughing. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”
“Isn’t that my problem, not yours?”
“Yuck,” I say, pushing him off me so I can go to the bathroom.
I climb back into bed when I’m done washing up. I see him eye my new sleepwear.
“The floral nightgown looks good on you, too. I made a compromise in picking it. The design you like, but at a length more satisfying to me. At least now I can see some of your legs.”
“Everything you picked out is lovely. Thank you.” I pick up his hand and kiss the palm.
He gives me the warmest smile. “You can’t thank me for everything yet. You have another gift to open.”
“You’re kidding. Are you sure you were working all these weeks? Shopping must have been your full time job.”
“Shopping doesn’t take long if you know what to buy. This one I got when I was with Marty two weekends ago.”
He hands me a blue box tied with a white ribbon.
“Same store as the vase?”
“I told you Marty likes car rides to Westport.”
“You’re spending too much money on me.”
“Since I’m already breaking Grovas’ personnel policies, I might as well reveal one of their payroll secrets—partners make a hell of a lot more money than the associates. Do you want to see what’s inside the box, or not?”
“Okay, okay. Geez.” I unwrap the box and take out a velvet pouch. Inside the pouch is a gold chain, which lengthens as I pull it. A pendent hangs from the bottom.
“The necklace,” he explains, “is a designer piece. It’s called Open Heart. I bought it because an open heart is the gift you gave me. It’s a fair trade, I think.”
“My God, Jordan . . .“ I sit up in bed, giving him my back and lifting my hair. He clasps it on and I turn around to let him see it. But he isn’t even looking at it. He’s focused on my mouth. Leaning forward he kisses me.
But he stops after a few moments. Double damn.
“Before I get caught up in doing to you what I want to,” he says, “we need to pack up and get going. I’ve got to drop you off and then get Marty before it’s too late.”
“You’re seeing Marty today?’
“Yes. Are you mad?”
“Mad? Because you want to spend time with your daughter? No, I want to go with you.”
“I don’t think that’s a great idea.”
“What’s the problem? You said Marty likes me.”
“She does. But I don’t think you’d get along very well with my ex-wife.”
“You think I’ll say the wrong thing? Or do the wrong thing?”
“Hardly. I don�
��t want her to irritate you.”
“That, as you once said, is my problem, not yours. Where does Danielle live?”
“Canton.”
I wait for him to check us out of the Inn and then we’re off to Canton.
CHAPTER 32
Canton is the home of the first P & Z project we did together. Now we’re here to see his ex-wife. We pull into the elaborate stone driveway of an enormous house.
“Before you ask, yes, I pay a lot of money for alimony and child support.”
“I guess so.”
“I could have fought the amount of the payments, considering she was the one with the infidelity issues. But I thought a protracted divorce fight wouldn’t be good for Marty. So every month I pay up.”
He sounds bitter. Still, his doing the right thing by his child would have made him a rarity among the clients at Stone & Sommers. He opens the car door for me. “Let’s go in,” he says.
He presses the doorbell. It doesn’t ring, instead it lets out a chorus of chimes. Soon the door opens and a woman with perfectly coifed strawberry-colored hair comes out. Her hair-do is so perfectly arranged, she could give the receptionist at Grovas a run for her money. She’s taller than me, thinner. She’s beautifully dressed, with perfect skin and striking hazel eyes. I hate to admit it, but she’s a very pretty lady.
“Hello, Danielle. I’d like you to meet Susan. Susan, this is Danielle. Is Marty ready?”
“Well, that was a quick introduction. Marty’s inside, Jordan. I trust you can find her. Hello, Susan. Nice to finally meet you.” Extending her hand, she gives me a friendly smile.
I shake it and smile back. She doesn’t seem all that bad. In fact, she makes me feel at ease. “Hello, Danielle, it’s nice to meet you, too. Your home is lovely.”
Her smile radiates when I say that. “Yes, thanks. I had it custom designed. I finished decorating the annex a few weeks ago. If you are interested in interior design, I can show it to you.”
If she only knew how much I’m not interested in interior design. “Of course I’d love to. Please show me.” I follow her to the back of the house. The room she’s finished has massive windows and extensive molding on the walls. It’s painted in a pink so soft yet vibrant, it glows.
“Let me show you some of the pieces in here . . .” and she launches into a history of the antiques she’s harboring. She’s still discussing her three-inch statue of a Chinese man riding a horse when Jordan and Marty walk in.
“Okay, sweetie,” he says to Marty. “Time for you to say bye to Mommy. We’ll see her later.”
Marty kisses her mom and then notices me. “Sue!”
“Hi, Marty. I had so much fun with you in Florida I thought we should hang out again.”
Jordan starts to sweep us out the door. “See you later, Danielle.”
“Thank you for showing me the house,” I call over my shoulder. “I hope I can finish the tour some other time.”
“Bye, honey,” Danielle calls out to Marty. “Have a good time and be a good girl.”
We walk out of the house to the car. I help Marty into her booster seat and we drive off, leaving the French styled manicured lawn behind us.
“Usually I let Marty choose where we go.”
“Can I make a suggestion, if the two of you don’t mind?” I ask.
“I want to hear it,” Marty pipes up.
“The circus is in Bridgeport. There is a three o’clock show. Marty, does that sound like something you would enjoy?”
“The circus,” she squeals. “I’ve never been to one.”
“You’ve never been to the circus?”
“No, she hasn’t,” Jordan answers. “Her mother doesn’t want her near riff-raff.”
“But I want to go,” Marty wails.
“Jordan, the Bridgeport Harbor Yard Arena isn’t for riff-raff. It’s supposed to be very nice . . .” I stop speaking. “I’m sorry Jordan, she’s your daughter. It’s not my place to say anything.”
“Hmm? No, I don’t care about that. I was wondering if there are still tickets left so we don’t drive down to Bridgeport for nothing.”
“I called the Arena while you were checking out of the Inn. I was able to order three tickets over the phone. They’re at the will call window waiting for us.” Marty gives me a toothy smile. “I’ll go with you to the window to pick them up,” I tell her. “They’re under the name Marty.”
The circus is wonderful. Marty hops with excitement. It’s fun for me to see the show from a child’s eyes. Jordan’s more animated than I’ve ever seen him, his face all lit up while pointing out the acrobats to his daughter. At intermission, I take her to the bathroom. She holds my hand on the way back to our seats. The last act, the flame throwing clowns, finish at five-thirty. Just in time for us to take her back home.
We park the car and walk Marty to the door.
“Thank you,” she says to me, hugging my leg.
“I’m glad I could take you.”
With that, we ring the bell and Danielle lets us inside.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Jordan says to Danielle. “I’m going to take Marty’s circus stuff up to her room.”
“The circus?” Danielle makes a face. “You know how I feel about that.”
“Yes, I do,” he says, disappearing up the staircase with his daughter.
Danielle is silent for a moment, presumably recovering from having her daughter exposed to riff-raff. She seems to be calming down when she notices my necklace. A small frown and creased brow mar her flawless face. “How lovely. From Jordan?”
I nod mildly. Sure, I want to gloat about my great gift, but not at her expense. She has actually been nice to me. It probably wasn’t easy for her to meet me, either.
Danielle clears her throat. “I see,” she says. “Sue, what exactly is your relationship with Jordan?”
“None of your business, Danielle,” Jordan says icily, coming back down the staircase. “Remember it’s okay to see other people after the divorce.”
I blush. Danielle turns pink, too, but with rage. “It was nice to meet you, Susan.” Shooting him a vicious look, she adds, “Good luck with him, you’ll need it.” With that, Danielle turns and walks back toward her brand new, antique-decorated annex.
“Despite her,” he says as soon as we’re outside, “I had a great day.” He glances nervously at me. “I hope she didn’t ruin it for you.”
“No, not at all.”
“Her prying questions didn’t upset you?”
“I understand where she’s coming from. She wants to know if I’m going to be in her daughter’s life. I’m not angry. She’s only looking out for her child.”
“You are an amazing person, Sue,” he says, looking at me with a combination of wonder and affection that I’m reveling in. “I’m glad you had a good day. Thank you for the tickets. Marty had a ball.” We hop in the car.
“Thanks for letting me come.”
“Do you think we’re both too pushy?” he asks as he speeds down the driveway.
“Absolutely.” I laugh.
Home again. Time to call my mother before she gets really mad since I haven’t called her in two days.
“Hi, Ma.”
“How was your weekend, dear?”
I take a deep breath. I might as well just go ahead and tell her. “Jordan took me for an overnight stay at an inn in Litchfield. Yesterday we went on a wine tasting tour and then out to dinner.”
“All of this for your birthday?”
“Yes.”
“That was a nice gift.”
“There was more.” I omit from my recap most of the things he bought for me, mentioning only the cashmere sweater and the necklace.
“At least I now know which way he’s going with yo
ur relationship. He’s going to propose.”
I can feel my eyes roll. “We haven’t been dating all that long.”
“I understand. I’m just saying. So, what did you do with him today?”
“We picked up his daughter at his ex-wife’s house.”
