He loomed above her, his fingers still caught in hers. “Give me a minute.”
Her face was just level with his groin. She glanced down from the hot look in his eyes and directly at the big bulge in his faded jeans.
That did it. She couldn’t help it. She let go of his hand as she blushed and looked away, thoroughly embarrassed—and also gravely disappointed in herself.
For a moment there, she’d been feeling reasonably grown-up and more or less in control of the situation. “I...I’m sorry.” She planted her face in her hands. “Ugh. Don’t listen to me. Clearly, I have no idea what I’m doing.”
A silence. Followed by a definite, if somewhat pained, chuckle.
She kept her hands over her eyes. “Now you’re laughing at me. I hate you, Will Clifton.”
“No, you don’t. You like me. A lot.”
“Now you’re smug. I might have to kill you.”
She still had her head in her hands, but she felt the air stir as he dropped down beside her. A low groan escaped him as he sat. That gave her at least a little satisfaction, that his jeans were too tight—and she was to blame.
“Jor-dyn...” He said her name in a singsong, the way he used to do when she was six and he was eleven.
“Don’t you make fun of me,” she grumbled.
And then he touched her, catching a hank of her hair and guiding it behind her ear, causing goose bumps to skitter across her skin.
“Go away.” She nudged at him with her elbow.
“Jor-dyn...” Now his lips were there, touching the shell of her ear, his warm breath fanning across her cheek.
She shivered a little in pleasure, at the feel of him so close. But she still refused to look. “Leave me alone.”
“Uh-uh. You started this.” He kissed the words into her hair and then breathed against her temple, “And I’m not backing off until you actually talk to me.” His hot fingers closed around her wrist. “Come on, look at me...”
She gave up and lowered her hands. “Fine.” She turned her head and glared at him. “What do you want from me?”
He kissed the end of her nose. “You’re so cute.”
“Cute is not what I was going for.”
“Then what?”
“More like smokin’ hot and completely irresistible.”
He looped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her in snug against his side. “Take my word for it. You’re doing great.”
She let herself lean into him. For a moment they just sat there. It was nice, actually. Companionable. Easy, but with that little edge of excitement, the thrill of banked desire.
And then he said, “Talk to me. Tell me exactly what you’re thinking.”
She realized there was nothing to do but give it up. “Remember the morning we woke up married?”
He grunted. “That is a morning I will never forget.”
“I told you that I wasn’t saving myself for marriage...”
“Yeah.” His voice was lower now, with a certain tempting roughness to it. “I remember that, too. You said you were saving yourself for someone special.”
She straightened a little and looked right at him. “That would be you, Will. You’re special to me. I want you to be my first.”
He just stared at her. She couldn’t tell if he was thrilled—or trying to figure out a way to let her down gently.
She forged ahead. “Look, I get it. I do. I know we’re not forever. You have your goals, for your ranch, for your future. I have mine. At the end of August, I’m outta here.”
“Wait.”
“What?”
“You’re saying that no matter what happens between us, the plan doesn’t change?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying. I’m saying that this, with us, is just this beautiful, magical accident that happened, you know? Somebody did something to the punch, and we ended up married. For a while.”
“But—”
She cut him off, sternly. “Will you let me finish, please?”
He scowled. “Go ahead.”
“I want you to know that I have loved it, Will, this time with you. Loved every minute of it, even the rocky parts, even when we were barely speaking to each other—and you know what?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Well, too bad. I’m telling you, anyway. I say, so what if it’s not forever? Life’s too short and time goes by. What matters is this. I know that, with you, making love will be beautiful and every kind of exceptional I’ve been hoping that my first time might be. No, I don’t remember much about our wedding night, but right now, I’m totally conscious. And I choose you, Will. I do. I choose you.”
His face changed. His mouth and his eyes got softer somehow. He said in a rough whisper, “Jordyn, even if something did happen in that bed at the Manor that night, it doesn’t count, and we both know that. You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” She pressed the tips of her fingers to those soft lips of his. “So now you know for sure why I’ve been sneaking looks at you, what I’ve been thinking about. Now I’ve told you, and you can think about it, too.”
His lips moved beneath her touch. “My God, Jordyn. How will I think about anything else?”
She could have sat there on that stair with him all night long. But no. She’d stated her case, and she needed to give him the space to make a choice of his own. She rose. “How about this? We’ll sleep on it, okay—separately?”
“Sleep,” he groaned, rising to stand with her. “Like that’s gonna be happening.”
“Good night.” And she made herself turn and start up the stairs.
She got exactly two steps before he reached out and pulled her back.
Chapter Twelve
“Don’t go.” He tugged her down off the stairs and around to face him again.
Her heart was going like a trip-hammer. Still, she managed to rise on tiptoe and brush a kiss against the sculpted line of his scruffy jaw. “Well, okay, then.”
He gazed down at her, eyes full of questions—and heat. So much lovely heat. “You’re sure?”
She didn’t waver. “I am.”
“You’re not going to wake up tomorrow and regret...”
She put her fingers to his lips again, felt his warm breath flow down her palm. “No. I won’t regret it. Ever.” Her eyes filled.
He saw her tears, shook his head. “Now you’re crying.”
She sniffed. “It’s kind of a big moment, Will—an emotional moment.”
He lifted a hand, brushed the back of a finger down the curve of her cheek. His touch burned her, right down to the center of her. How did he do it? The man just set her on fire. “You’re certain that it’s what you want?”
She gazed up at him steadily. “Yeah. You and me. Lovers. I don’t know how to make it any clearer than that.”
He stroked a hand down her hair. And then, with the hot, rough pads of his fingers, he traced a path down from her temple, along her cheek and lower, down the side of her throat. It was a light, skating touch. And still, it seemed to lay a brand beneath her skin. “You’re so beautiful.”
“No.”
“Yeah.”
“Laila is beautiful.” Her sister Laila had actually been a beauty queen.
“You’re beautiful.” He said it gruffly that time. “Stop arguing with me.” His hand was on the move again, tracing the line of her jaw, sliding beneath her hair to cup the nape of her neck. He cradled her head, and then he bent closer.
Until their lips met.
Oh, my, that kiss! It curled her toes inside her pink socks, set the butterflies loose in her belly, made her whole body ache in the most delicious way.
She let out a small moan of protest when he lifted his head.
He said, “My bed.”
>
Her mouth went dry as the Great Salt Lake. “Um. Yes. Okay. Your bed, Will—but I need to, um, run upstairs first.” He just stared down at her, waiting, burning her with those eyes. She cleared her tight throat. “Ahem. I have condoms. And, er, lubricant...” His mouth twitched. He was trying not to smile. “What is so funny?” she demanded.
“Saturday,” he said, “in Kalispell. When you disappeared in the supermarket...?”
“That’s right. I bought them then. Just in case I ever got up the nerve to put a move on you.”
“I’ve got condoms.”
“But what about lubricant? I mean, we might not need it, but then again...”
He gave in. “Fine. Go get it.”
She started to turn—but changed her mind, whirled back and grabbed his hand. “You should come with me. We shouldn’t be apart now. One of us could start having second thoughts.”
He held his ground. “I’ll be right here waiting for you. If you don’t come back down, I’ll understand.”
She hesitated.
He pulled his hand from her grip, took her by the shoulders and pointed her at the stairs. “Go.”
“But I want you to come with—”
“Go.” He was not budging.
She went—taking off up the steps at a run, reaching the upper floor in seconds, darting into her room, grabbing the tube from the nightstand drawer and racing back to the top of the stairs, where she paused and looked down to see if he’d changed his mind.
He was still there, still waiting below, just as he’d promised.
Their eyes met and locked. Heat coiled low in her belly. Her skin felt electrified, little sparks of sensation firing along every nerve.
He didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so she hovered there above him, pulling herself together, allowing herself a deep breath or two.
And then, slowly, with dignity, she descended.
When she reached him, she stepped right up nice and close. “Ready,” she told him.
And he moved so swiftly, reaching for her. She was high in his arms before she realized he was lifting her against his broad chest. “Oh!” She grabbed him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight.
“Kiss me again,” he commanded.
She lifted her lips to him. He took them, his hot tongue spearing in, laying claim to her mouth—and more. Everything: her mind, her body, all of her senses, as he carried her past the living room and into the master suite.
He set her down on the thick rug by the wide bed. The room was dim, with only a slant of light falling across the floor from the front hall.
“Here.” He held out his hand. She put the tube in it. He set it on the nightstand and switched on the bedside lamp.
She couldn’t hold back a tiny gasp of dismay.
He asked, “Too bright?”
The lamp cast a soft, pretty glow across the expanse of the bed. Still, a shiver went through her at the thought of being naked with him. The light might be low, but still, he would be able to see everything. She longed to be brave and tell him to leave it on.
But it was all too new and scary. “I think for this first time...could we have it off?”
“That’ll work. Let me turn back the covers first?”
“Okay.” She waited while he folded the blankets down. Everything seemed strange and unreal, suddenly. She wasn’t having second thoughts, exactly. But she didn’t feel all that confident, either.
And then, at last, he reached out and flicked the switch again. The lamp went dark. But light still bled in from the hallway.
He was watching her face. “Darker?”
She whispered, “Yes, please.”
He went over and shut the door. And it was better. There was her racing heart, her yearning body. All of her senses had gone on red alert. But the darkness helped. It was one less source of extreme stimulation. The tightness in her belly eased. She felt safer, somehow.
She heard him come back to her as her eyes began to adjust. Slivers of moonlight shone around the sides of the plain cotton curtains that had been there when they moved in.
He was a tall, broad shadow before her.
And then he touched her, gathering her into him, sweeping an arm down to press her lower body against him.
Hard. All of him.
She sighed, a slightly ragged sound. But even with her nerves on a razor’s edge, the feel of him was heaven.
And then he kissed her, a slow, tender kiss. As he kissed her, he gathered her cami by the hem. “Lift your arms...” His kissed those words across her lips.
She did what he told her to do. His fingers brushed upward along her sides, creating lovely shivers of sensation. For a moment the cami came between them.
But only for a moment. Then it was gone into the darkness.
Her sleep shorts came next. His thumbs slid in at the flare of her hips. And he pushed them down until they dropped to the rug.
She stepped free of them, kicking them away. And that was it, all it took to undress her. She stood by the bed wearing only her warm socks.
He kissed her some more, wrapping her up in those steely arms of his.
“You, too,” she dared to whisper against his mouth. “Your shirt, your jeans...”
He smiled against her lips. And he took her hands and placed them at the sides of his waist. She got the message, getting hold of his soft, old shirt and sliding it up over his hot, hard flesh. He raised his arms for her, and it was off.
She tossed it into the darkness. He took off the jeans himself. She heard the zipper go down, felt him moving in the darkness beside her, bending, kicking free of them.
When he rose to his height again, she reached for him, laying a palm over his heart, trailing it lower. Dark, silky hair grew in a line along the center of his chest. She knew where it led, but she didn’t quite have the confidence to follow it the whole way.
He seemed to sense her shyness and clasped her shoulders. “Jordyn...”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Get on the bed. Lie down.” He said it softly, gently. And so calmly. So completely in command.
In command.
She smiled a little to herself, thinking of all the years she’d known him, of how she’d always felt she had to resist, make a stand, whenever he tried to take command.
Well, not now. Not here, in the dark, with both of them naked. Tonight she wanted him leading the way, needed him in control.
And that struck her as funny. She let out a silly, squeaky laugh.
He pulled her against him. Oh, he felt good, so good. His body pressed to her body, without a stitch to separate them. He whispered against her hair, “You think this is funny?”
“I do,” she whispered back. “And I’m nervous.”
He caught her chin, tipped it up and kissed her—tenderly at first, but then more firmly, more deeply. She gave herself to that kiss, all the while aware of her bare breasts pressed to his hot chest, of his hardness poking at her belly, his big arms around her.
When he finally let go of her mouth, laughing was the last thing on her mind.
“Lie down on the bed,” he instructed for the second time.
And this time she didn’t hesitate. She dropped to the mattress, swung her legs up and stretched out, reaching up to position a pillow under her head.
He came down with her, taking her mouth again, kissing her for the longest time, only breaking that wet, open contact long enough to slant his mouth the other way—and kiss her some more.
As he kissed her, he touched her, light caresses, controlled. Careful.
His care helped her, relaxed her. She could feel his erection against her thigh. It seemed very large. But she tried not to think about that yet, tried not to focus on where all this kissing and touching w
as leading.
He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get to the scary part.
On the contrary, he was kind of feeling his way over her body, exploring her, slowly. Deliciously. As though he had all the time in the world just to touch her. His hands were rough from outside work. Rough in a wonderful way. She welcomed every brushing caress.
The first time he ran his palm across her nipple, she moaned.
“You like that?” he breathed across her cheek.
“Oh, yes, I do.”
“More?”
“Please...”
His big hand settled, claiming and molding her breast. It wasn’t a large breast. He completely engulfed it. “Perfect,” he whispered against her parted lips.
“Uh-uh, they’re too small.” The words popped out, and she wanted to yank them right back.
“They’re perfect,” he insisted.
She smiled against his mouth. “Tonight you seem to be saying all the right things.”
He brushed his lips back and forth across hers. “Just tell me, okay? Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t.”
“Okay...”
He flicked her nipple.
She moaned.
“Is that a good moan?”
“It is. It definitely is...”
His mouth had left hers. She wanted to order him to kiss her some more. But then she realized that he was kissing her some more. He was trailing those soft, clever lips of his over her chin, down her throat, pausing to lightly suck her skin against his teeth.
It felt really good, and she told him so.
So he continued kissing her. He took one breast in his mouth and then the other, doing wonderful things to them, so that she gasped and moaned and cried, “Yes! Like that, Will. Exactly like that... Oh, don’t stop!”
He did just what she ordered him to do—and more. His hand skated down, stroking, caressing as it went, lighting her up like a firecracker, making her sizzle and burn.
And then he touched her. Really touched her. She gasped when he did that.
The Maverick's Accidental Bride (Montana Mavericks: What Happened At The Wedding Book 1) (Contemporary Cowboy Romance) Page 17
