by C. C. Wood
Right now they burned into me, so blistering that I felt myself melting. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him. Or at least his body did.
With each slam of his hips against mine, I felt the orgasm building inside me. As his right hand gripped my thigh, holding my leg against his hip, he reached up with his left and yanked my sweater off my shoulder, taking the strap of my bra with it. His fingers trailed along the neckline, bringing the material down. He pulled the sweater lower, his finger snagging the cup of my bra until my breast was revealed. His thumb and forefinger closed over my flesh, tugging at my nipple until the pleasure bordered on near pain.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his thrusts growing sharper and more powerful.
Without thought, I did what he said, my fingers dipping down to slide along each side of his cock where our bodies connected. He grunted, his hips jerking as my fingertip trailed the top of his dick. Then I moved up to my clit, feeling sparks of pleasure shoot through me as I circled my flesh with firm pressure.
The leg holding me up trembled violently and suddenly I was up, my legs wrapped around Jordan’s waist, his hands on my ass. He rested my weight against the wall and drove inside of me harder and deeper. The orgasm hovered just out of reach and I felt my body tighten, ready for it.
Jordan knew I was close. He always did. He lowered his head and wrapped his mouth around my bare nipple, sucking hard. I circled my clit faster, my pussy clenching tighter with each pull of his mouth.
Then I felt the edge of his teeth close on the sensitive flesh and tug. Another shaft of that deliciously painful pleasure pierced me.
I gasped, my head flying back, and came so hard that tiny white lights danced in my vision.
His mouth crashed against mine, muting my cries as my body trembled violently against him. I fisted my hands in his hair, my teeth sinking into his bottom lip as the tremors wracked my body.
His moan filled my mouth and I felt the vibration throughout my body as he slammed into me twice more before he came.
We stayed in that position for several long seconds, our mouths touching and lungs heaving.
Then he lifted his head and moved slightly away.
My weak legs lowered from his hips and I bit back a moan as he slowly pulled out of my body. I managed to keep my feet when he released my weight, but only because the wall was behind me.
His face was all I could see as he stared at me, his eyes unreadable. The hands on my ass squeezed lightly. “Do not move,” he stated. “I’ll be right back.”
I watched as he straightened his clothing and moved toward the door. As it closed behind him, the click brought me back to reality with a jarring thud.
What the fuck had I done?
My legs started to shake again, but not from lust. I looked down and saw my white satin and lace panties lying on the floor. Quickly I leaned over and grabbed them, struggling to pull them up my legs.
As soon as they were in place, I shimmied my skirt down and straightened my bra and sweater, flinching as my fingers brushed my tender nipple.
Before I could decide my next move, the door opened once again. I held my breath, simultaneously praying that it was Jordan but also hoping that it wasn’t. Anyone who saw me now would know exactly what I’d been doing the last twenty minutes. Jordan was definitely the lesser of those two evils.
My ridiculous, contradictory prayer was answered when the door opened to reveal him. His face was in shadow, but he beckoned me.
“I’m taking you home. We’ll come back for your car in the morning.”
I shook my head. “I rode with my assistant, Cynthia.”
“Good, then we’ll find her on the way out and tell her you won’t need a ride.”
“No, Jordan. This was—”
“We’ll discuss it at your place,” he interrupted, reaching out and taking my hand. I could tell by the set of his jaw that he wasn’t going to let this go. The only way I could change his mind would be if I made a scene at Milton Buck’s retirement party. Since career suicide wasn’t high on my to-do list, I stopped arguing and let him lead me down the hall.
I would think about what I needed to say on the drive home, and once I made it clear I wasn’t on board with a repeat performance, I would send Jordan on his way.
I might not have been able to resist him tonight, but I could not allow it to become more than that. Not when the shield I’d surrounded myself with two years ago had cracked beyond repair. My heart would never recover if I didn’t protect it.
Chapter Four
The Fall
Two Years Ago, four months after The Meeting
Jordan followed me into my townhouse after work Friday night. The wind that cut through Dallas was bitter cold, a rare occurrence this close to spring and meteorologists promised snow and ice over the weekend.
When I’d heard the forecast earlier that day, I’d found myself calling Jordan and inviting him to spend the weekend keeping me warm.
Considering this was not the first time he spent the night with me, nor would it likely be the last, it was clear that I’d fucked up. Big time.
In my experience, casual sex meant you met up, enjoyed your orgasm, and went home. Apparently, my expectations didn’t line up with Jordan’s. After our first night together, I thought that would be the end of things. Especially since we were opposing counsel in what was promising to become an incredibly acrimonious divorce.
While I was disappointed there wouldn’t be any more of the incredible, mind-blowing orgasms, I knew it was for the best. That kind of chemistry could lead to all sorts of trouble if we kept sleeping together.
Two weeks after our first night together, I discovered that Mr. Browning had fired his legal representation. Then I received a text from Jordan.
My place. 7 p.m. tonight.
Like an idiot, I’d gone. To my utter disbelief, the sex had been even better the second time around.
From that night on, he and I fucked like rabbits. There was no other way to describe it. Several times a week, I would go to Jordan’s and stay for hours, wandering home in the wee hours of the morning.
Then I invited him to my place. Unlike me, he didn’t leave after we were done. He slept in my bed with me, usually spooned against my back or with me sprawled across his chest.
From there, it was a slippery slope that led straight to a monumental fuck up.
I knew it as I watched Jordan set his laptop bag by the front door and shrug out of his long winter coat. Though he still wore his suit jacket, he’d removed his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt after he left the office. He smiled at me and headed toward the kitchen.
“Red or white?” he asked over his shoulder as he went.
His words broke through my reverie and I removed my coat as I answered. “Red.”
A knowing chuckle came from the kitchen. “I thought as much.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked as I kicked off my shoes and left them by the front door.
I walked toward the kitchen, rounding the counter in time to see him select a bottle of pinot noir from the rack on the counter.
“You always want red wine when it’s cold outside.”
He was right. I preferred the rich warmth of a red wine on chilly evenings and the crisp coolness of white wine during the spring and summer. It also surprised me he recognized it. Were casual sex partners supposed to notice things like that? I didn’t think so.
While I’d dallied in the entryway, removing my coat, Jordan had shed his suit jacket and draped it over one of the chair backs at the kitchen table. I watched the lean muscles of his shoulders move as he uncorked the wine and poured a healthy amount into two glasses.
God, I loved to watch him move. There was something subtly sexy about the way he held his body, the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. Then there was the smirk that he typically wore when he said something witty or self-deprecating. I knew as soon as I saw it that whatever he had to share would make me laugh.
> In the last four months, the strong attraction I’d initially felt hadn’t faded in the least. In fact, it had grown hotter, sharper. I didn’t just want him. I craved him. Not only his body and the pleasure he invariably gave me but his company, his humor, even his sullen grumpiness early in the morning. I loved it all.
I loved him.
If it had been physically possible, I believed every cell in my body would have frozen from the unexpected realization that gripped me.
I loved Jordan Hawke. He was nothing like my past sexual partners, yet exactly what I wanted in every way. I teased incessantly about his name and how he must have been named after the hero in a bodice-ripper romance. This sophisticated man who whispered dirty things in my ear in that delicious accent as he made me come over and over again was exactly what I’d been looking for, even if I hadn’t realized it.
I knew I’d blurred the lines between a fling and a relationship too much with him, but I hadn’t realized how badly until now. What in the hell was I going to do?
“Tanya?” he asked, halting in front of me with two glasses of wine in his hands. “You okay?”
I took a deep breath. Okay, so the first thing I needed to do was get through tonight and the rest of this weekend without blurting out the three words that would surely send him sprinting for the door and likely leaving a Jordan Hawke-shaped hole in the wood.
“Sure,” I murmured, taking the glass he held out to me. “Just worn out. It’s been a long week.”
He studied me as I sipped the wine, the pinot noir completely tasteless on my tongue. “Why don’t we go into the living room and light the fireplace?” he invited. “I’ll call out for dinner.”
“I’d like that,” I lied. While it did sound fantastic, I would never be able to enjoy it now that I recognized what I felt for him.
“I also have something to discuss with you,” he continued.
Something about his words made the back of my neck tingle, but I couldn’t read his expression. Tessa teased me for years that I had the best poker face she’d ever seen, but I had nothing on Jordan Hawke. He wore none of his internal thoughts on his face. He smiled and laughed, but something behind his eyes remained hidden, a door tightly closed against everyone. Even me.
“Okay,” I replied, allowing him to lead me into the living area.
I settled on the sofa with my wine as he lit the gas fireplace in the corner. That fireplace was the reason I’d chosen this townhouse. Though it wasn’t as nice as a wood fire, I could enjoy the sight of a fire without the mess of ash and bark all over my wood floors.
When he finished, he sat next to me and sipped his wine. The silence stretched out between us. Typically I would have found it comfortable, but my nerves were shot.
My fingers trembled lightly around the wineglass and I found myself blurting, “What did you need to talk to me about?”
I felt out-of-control and on edge, a sensation I loathed. If Jordan weren’t here, I would have unrolled my yoga mat and cursed my stupidity as I moved through the poses. I probably would have shed a few tears as well.
I despised the knowledge.
“I received a job offer today,” he stated. “A very tempting job offer.”
I forced myself to focus on his words. “How was it tempting?” I asked, hoping his answer would distract me.
“Enough that I accepted,” he replied.
I felt my brows lift in surprise. Most attorneys would never accept the first offer.
“As this was the third time they’d upped their offer, it wasn’t likely to get better.”
Something inside me trembled with a sudden premonition of doom. “Wow. Which firm is it?” I asked, using every ounce of willpower to maintain the poker face that Tessa hated.
“Kant and Seton.”
I frowned at him. “I’ve never heard of them. Are they a new firm?”
Jordan shook his head, setting his glass on the coffee table. “No. Their offices are in New York.”
The shiver of premonition I felt moments ago blossomed within me. I wasn’t familiar with this feeling, the fear and pain.
“New York?” I asked, taking a sip of wine to cover the reaction I knew I couldn’t hide completely. Then I curved my lips into a smile. “That’s great. When do they want you to start?”
“The first week in April.”
I calculated the dates quickly and realized he would be leaving in six weeks. “That’s a big move to make in such a short time,” I commented.
Jordan shrugged. “Maybe but they’re making it worth my while.”
I nodded. “I can see that.” I leaned forward and placed my glass on the coffee table next to his. “It seems our time together is coming to an end,” I stated.
Jordan’s eyes locked on mine. “I’m afraid so.”
“Then we should enjoy it while we can.” I reached out and fisted his shirt in my hand, pulling him forward.
I didn’t want to hear anything else he might have to say anyway. The politely worded severing of our affair would only shatter my heart completely.
As I brought his mouth to mine, I decided it was better this way. I’d always known our fling would end. At least this way, I wouldn’t have to see him again now that he’d broken my goddamn heart.
Chapter Five
The Remnants
Two years ago
I ran my thumb over the screen of my phone, staring at the last text Jordan sent me.
Good-bye, Tanya.
He’d sent me the text three days ago, which was the night before he left for New York.
I hadn’t responded. Just like I hadn’t responded to the other two text messages he sent me after the wickedly cold weekend he’d spent at my townhouse six weeks ago. The weekend I realized I was in love with him.
That Sunday, as I kissed him good-bye at my front door, I’d said, “I think it’s best if we end this now. You’ll be busy preparing for the move and I have a big case coming up.”
His hand still cupped my cheek as he looked down at me. In my bare feet, I stood three inches shorter than Jordan.
“That’s probably a good idea,” he agreed.
The nonchalance of his response, the ease with which he accepted my suggestion…it stung.
It also reinforced my belief that it was better to sever our connection now. If I kept seeing him, the pain would only get worse. It was going to be difficult enough to get over the heartbreak. The sooner I got started, the better.
Which was exactly the situation I’d been trying to avoid.
At least listening to Tessa’s break-up experiences had given me some idea of how to ease the pain.
Jordan had kissed me one last time and left. He’d texted me twice after that, both were work related.
I managed to suppress the hurt and the disappointment until he sent that final text.
That night, the dam broke. I found myself calling Tessa, tears making it difficult for me find her name on my contact list. She’d talked to me until I calmed down and then she insisted that I eat some ice cream, drink some wine, and go to bed.
Not surprisingly it hadn’t helped as much as I would have liked, but I did it anyway.
Tessa promised me that it would get easier, that the heartbreak would lessen. I hoped she was right.
Tonight, however, I wallowed. As I stared at the screen on my phone, touching the last words Jordan sent to me, I knew I would never allow myself to fall in love again. Hell, I hadn’t meant to fall in love with Jordan Hawke in the first place. I’d done everything I could to avoid it.
Love always ended in suffering.
But not for me.
Because I would never allow this to happen to me again.
Chapter Six
Present Day
I listened with half an ear as Chelsea, Grier, and Yancy talked about their weekends. My mind couldn’t seem to latch on to their words. Instead, images of the past few days replayed in my mind over and over. What happened with Jordan at Milton Buck’s retirement par
ty, the ride home, and the next twelve hours.
I was a woman obsessed.
After two years without Jordan in my life, the weekend seemed surreal, like a fevered dream. Or erotic hallucination.
“Tanya? Taaaaaanyaaaaa?”
I blinked, looking up when I realized that Chelsea was calling my name. All three of my friends were staring at me with expressions of varying degrees of concern.
“You okay?” Yancy asked softly. “It’s not like you to be so…checked out.”
I shrugged, mindlessly stirring my egg drop soup with a spoon as I watched the liquid swirl in the bowl. Then I sighed.
“Something’s going on,” Chelsea prompted. “Spill.”
A few weeks after Jordan arrived at the firm, I’d had a bit of a breakdown at lunch with my friends. I never told them about Jordan while we were together, mostly because I hadn’t expected it to develop into anything more than a short fling.
Maybe if I had, the months after he left wouldn’t have been so difficult. Maybe…it was time for me to stop trying to do everything myself and share my problems.
“I slept with someone this weekend,” I blurted out.
I almost laughed at the shocked expressions on my friends’ faces. For well over a year, I hadn’t mentioned a man or even dated, but I hadn’t expected them to be that surprised by my admission.
“I didn’t realize you were dating anyone,” Grier replied.
This time I did laugh, but even I could hear the lack of mirth in my tone. “I’m not.” Silence descended over the group and I realized that no one knew what to say, so I continued, “I slept with Jordan Hawke.”
“You slept with him?” Chelsea asked, her voice rising in volume.
“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t announce it to the entire restaurant.”
She frowned at me. “Sorry, I’m just surprised as hell. I thought you were doing everything you could to avoid him.”
Nodding, I answered, “I was. For this exact reason.”
