She nervously tucked some hair behind her ear, and Murphy felt it in a way he had no business feeling it It was almost as if she had reached out and intimately touched him, and his insides balled up and his pulse went crazy. Not sure he could physically withstand another surge of that kind of crippling need, he locked his jaw together and rested his hand on his hip.
As if picking up on his tension, Jordan shoved her hands in the pockets of her robe. Murphy could have sworn that the sound of her heartbeat carried clear across the room. She wet her lips and spoke. “I just wanted to thank you for the wonderful day,” she said, her voice very unsteady. “Your family is fantastic.”
Sensing that they were both standing on the threshold of something very critical—but also very shaky—Murphy stared at her, not sure he could handle this tentative attempt of hers. Every muscle in his body was braced against the onslaught that was happening inside him. He didn’t want to be an SOB with her, but right then, it was a matter of self-preservation. Murphy clenched and unclenched his jaw, then took a deep breath. “You thanked me already,” he said, his tone blunt. “So what’s this really about?”
Folding her arms across her chest, she looked away, the light from the hallway grazing her face. Murphy could see the terrible strain in her eyes, and he realized she was fighting with a very heavy emotional muddle.
The band of anger let go in him, and he knew he was going to be damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. Releasing a heavy sigh, he extended his hand. “Come here, Jordan,” he said quietly.
Murphy wasn’t quite sure what kind of reaction he expected from her—he was too busy trying to gird up his loins, so to speak. So when she crossed the room and stepped into his arms, he felt as if she’d yanked the rug out from underneath him. He gathered her up in a fierce embrace, his face pressed against hers, a crazy kind of energizing weakness pumping through him. She gave a soft sob and twisted her head, her lips seeking his. And right then, Murphy lost it. Widening his stance, he hooked his arm around her hips and hauled her against the Juncture of his thighs, covering her mouth in a blistering kiss that set off flares of heat and need.
Jordan whimpered and clutched him closer, twisting her pelvis against his, her mouth moist and hungry. She moved against him again, and Murphy let out a ragged groan, knowing he was inches away from really, truly losing it.
Dragging his mouth away, he jammed her head against his neck, his breathing ragged and raw. Closing his eyes, he crushed her against him, his heart thundering, his whole body throbbing. “We need to slow this down a bit,” he whispered hoarsely. Trying to provide some relief for both of them, he tightened his arm around her hip, pressing her hard against him. “It’s too soon for you, babe. So we’re going to have to look at alternatives.”
She clung to him even tighter, and to Murphy, it felt as if she were trying to climb right inside him. Her breath hot against his neck, she choked out unevenly. “The doctor—six weeks—he said it was okay.”
Nothing could have hauled Murphy back to the real world as fast as that admission. So, he hadn’t been the only one who’d been thinking about something other than diapers and colic. In another life, that little bit of news might have amused him. But not in this life. Not when his body was screaming for release. But he’d deal with the doctor’s visit later. Right now. Ah, right now he had her crushed hard against him, and it wasn’t nearly enough.
Hugging her even tighter, he slid his hand up the back of her head and pressed a kiss along her jaw. “That may be so,” he said, his voice unsteady and gruff. “But we got into a wreck once already when we were being careful. So I’m not going to chance it without using anything.”
She twisted her face against his neck and took a deep, uneven breath. “There were... leftovers from before.”
Murphy’s eyes flew open, a hot surge of anticipation making his heart pound even harder. “There were?”
“In my pocket.”
Easing his hold on her hips, he snaked his hand into the pocket of her robe. His heart did a crazy roll as he closed his fingers around small foil squares.
That feeling of anticipation exploded into something wild and urgent, and he dragged his mouth across hers, the long denied need scalding through him, setting off a frenzied reaction. He jammed the foil packages in his jeans pocket, then caught her robe, dragging it from her shoulders, his heart slamming to a stop when he realized she was stark naked beneath.
His breathing was so ragged and hoarse that the sound filled the whole room, and he stripped the garment off her, letting it fall to the floor. Emitting a ragged sound, he crushed her against him, reality spinning out of control as he experienced skin against skin, flesh against flesh.
Almost as if she were fighting him, Jordan jerked her arms free and slid her hands under the waistband of his jeans, trying to push them down. His need shot to a whole new level, and Murphy groaned a denial against her mouth as he caught her wrists, pulling her hands away. “No, baby. No.” He gathered her close, entrapping her hand, trying to keep from hurting her. He kissed her again, whispering raggedly against her mouth. “That’s all that’s keeping me together.”
She made a desperate sound and fought against his hold.
Sweeping her up, he dumped her on the bed, coming down on top of her, and she drew up her knees, cradling his hips, urging him on, urging him in. His body slick with sweat, he eased away and ran his hand between her thighs, and she sobbed out his name, trying to pull his hand away. And Murphy had no resistance left. It had been too long, and now their common need was too frantic, too desperate, and they were both just too close.
He raised himself up on his knees and found a packet, ripping it open with his teeth and stifling another raw groan as she shoved his jeans down. He nearly lost it—so nearly lost it when she touched him, fumbling to sheathe him. Desperate for relief, he let her pull him down on top of her. He had to grit his teeth, had to fight to hang on as she guided him into her. His whole body taut and quivering, he tried to ease slowly into her, to be careful with her, but she twisted her head and thrust her hips up, driving him in. What little was left of his restraint exploded out of control, and he thrust his arm under her hips and pressed her head against the curve of his neck, letting the need pull him under.
One, two, three driving strokes, and she cried out and arched up against him, and his face contorted into a grimace of raw, agonizing pleasure as her body clenched around him. And on another ragged groan, his own release came, pulsating from him in spasm after spasm. It wrung him out. And it filled him up. And he knew, no matter what, he would love her until the day he died.
It seemed to take forever for the star bursts to settle in his brain, and he felt as if he’d used up every speck of energy he had. His whole body suffusing with heavy, humming weakness, he finally forced himself to move. Taking her face in his hands, he covered her mouth in a soft, slow kiss that was meant to soothe and comfort. She gave him full access and clung to him with a desperate strength, her body trembling, her face wet. Still holding her head, he slowly broke off the kiss, releasing a long sigh as he raised his head. Using the heel of his hand to dry the tears spilling down her temple, he gazed down at her, loving her so much his chest was jam-packed full of it. He smiled at her, smoothing his thumb along her bottom lip. “You okay?”
She nodded and tried to smile, more tears slipping down. Bracing his weight on his arms, he leaned down and kissed them away, continuing to stroke her face with his thumbs. Murphy wanted to tell her exactly what he was feeling, but he knew from past experience that now was not the time.
A funny buzz started deep in his belly when he lifted his head and realized she was still watching him, her heart in her eyes. She had always dropped all her barriers in bed—as she did this time. But before, she’d keep her eyes closed afterward, even when her hands were soft and caressing. It was as if she was afraid he’d see too much, as if she was hiding from him.
Feeling he was quite capable of swinging from rafters, h
e drew his thumb across her mouth again, another smile starting in his eyes. “I gotta tell you, Kennedy. This was a long time coming.”
Suddenly she went all shy on him, shifting her gaze as she traced the line of his collarbone. But she didn’t close her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He put pressure on her jaw so she’d look at him. “Yeah, you do. I’ve been practically crawling the walls since that kid of ours arrived. It has not exactly been good for my manhood.”
He thought she blushed, but he couldn’t be sure with only the faint light coming from the hallway. She slanted a long look at him, one corner of her mouth lifting in a funny little quirk, then she went back to tracing the line of his collarbone. “Your manhood does just fine, Murphy.”
He laughed and gave her head a little shake. “So, you actually got an okay at your six-week checkup, did you?”
This time he knew she blushed, but she didn’t give an inch. “I also got an okay to carry heavy parcels. don’t see you crowing about that.”
Propping his head on his hand, he trailed his finger down her jawline, grinning broadly. “You know, you’re pretty cute, Kennedy.”
She shivered and caught his finger, then gave him a pointed look. “And you are a very bad boy, Munroe.”
Still grinning, he bent down and planted another kiss on her mouth. The movement intimately shifted both their bodies, and another sizzle of pleasure shot through him. It was all he could do to keep from groaning. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers and made himself take a couple of deep breaths, sharply aware of her moist heat gloving him.
Establishing some control, he gave her another soft kiss, then raised his head. Staring down at her, he braced himself to withdraw, but the instant he tensed his muscles, her eyes darkened and she hooked her legs across his hips. Gazing up at him, she whispered, “Not yet.”
Not ever, he mentally retorted, but he stroked her cheek with the backs of two fingers. “Honey,” he said, his voice much huskier than usual. “I think maybe that’s how we got in trouble last time.” He gave a slow smile, and was dead honest with her. “And as much as I would love to make you pregnant again, this is just a little too soon.”
Her eyes got wide and she stopped breathing altogether, and he knew he’d gotten her that time. But he wasn’t going to give her too much time to think about it. Sliding his hand under her head, he kissed her again, only this time there was no comfort or solace. This kiss was all about intent.
He felt her pulse falter, and she opened her mouth beneath his, giving him full access.
His breathing suddenly labored, he eased away and trailed a row of soft kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “Or I could go change, and we could pick up where we left off.”
Her arms came around him and she drew her knees up around his hips, moving ever so slightly beneath him. “Change? Like a diaper?”
He laughed against her mouth and hugged her hard. “Exactly.”
Murphy woke up in Jordan’s big bed just after five the next morning, his sleep interrupted by little snuffling sounds coming from the cradle, sounds that said hungry baby. Being careful not to disturb Jordan, he collected his son and took him to the nursery, where Pa pulled on his jeans and changed Junior. Then Murphy picked up his son and headed for the living area, closing the pocket door behind him. He fastened J.J. in his molded chair, and left him trying to catch sunbeams in front of the patio doors as he took the chill off the bottle and put the coffee on.
By rights, he should have felt like roadkill, but instead he felt as if he’d just arm wrestled Atlas and won. He had no idea how many times they’d made love the night before. But the last one had been the best. Because it was initiated by a blond angel with no good on her mind. They had ended up in her bed after J.J.’s two-o’clock feeding, and Murphy had been asleep maybe two hours when he’d surfaced from a hot, erotic dream of her. He’d come sharply awake, so hard and so ready he had to grit his teeth—aware of her with every damned cell in his body, aware with every breath that her hand was cupping him. He’d figured that he had the dream because his damned hormones were so clearly in overdrive again. But then he realized she was rigid in his arms, her own breathing strained. And the real explanation came when she slowly, ever so slowly stroked him. She had nearly put him through the roof.
That time had been like a trip to the moon and back, but maybe it was all so unbelievable for one reason. And that reason was that Murphy had seen it in her eyes-that she wanted him with the same driving need that he’d wanted her. And right then, he could have moved mountains.
But in the light of day, he was a bit more realistic. It didn’t really change anything. Yeah, knowing that he had that effect on her made him feel pretty damned good-and it was going to make him a whole lot more determined. But the truth was, this had always been about Jordan. Jordan had to learn to believe.
He poured himself a cup of coffee. Then, after testing the bottle, he took both the mug of coffee and the bottle to the kitchen table and set them down. Lifting the baby seat with his son in it onto the table, Murphy sat down and faced his kid. He offered J.J. the bottle, and the baby latched on as if he hadn’t seen food for a week. Murphy watched him, amusement surfacing. “So, kid, what did you think of the relatives?”
Still working on the bottle, J.J. gave him half a smile.
Murphy grinned at him. “Good. Glad you approved.”
Resting his arms on the table, Murphy supported the bottle of breast milk for his son. “And your Mom was a big hit—bowled them over. They’ll likely toss us out and just keep her.”
J.J. gave him another runny smile, and Murphy plucked a napkin from the holder and mopped up the trickle of milk.
He’d stuffed it down beside J.J. when Jordan came flying into the room, her robe tied haphazardly around the waist, her hands pressed against her breasts. “Aaah, I should have known you were feeding him.” She gave Murphy a desperate look. “I’ve got to feed him.”
Murphy pulled the bottle out of J.J.’s mouth, set it down and began unbuckling him, trying not to grin. Nothing like a little overproduction to override the morning-after jitters. He handed his son to his mother, then got up. “Would you like some juice?”
Sitting down at the table, she shook her head. “No. I want a cup of coffee. Surely one won’t kill him.”
Murphy went to the counter and poured her a mug, added some cream out of the fridge. Turning back to the table, he got such a jolt of male awareness, he nearly dropped the mug. Just like last night, she had nothing on under her robe—no nursing bra, no nightie. The sane, in-control part of his mind dissected why she was in such distress—with no bra on, there would be no restraining pressure, and it was no wonder both sides of her robe were soaking wet. The other part of his brain, the one closely linked to parts below his belt, had never seen anything more arousing in his whole life. This naked woman—well, naked under her robe—feeding his son with her breasts swollen to capacity, her hair all tousled from hours of making love, was enough to blow his manhood to smithereens.
Moving like a man in a trance, he went to the bathroom and ran a facecloth under warm water, then wrung it out and went back to the kitchen. Still walking as if he’d undergone a major head trauma, he handed it to her and turned away.
“Murphy?” He probably wouldn’t have responded, except her voice had a little tremor of doubt in it.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the top of her head, he answered. “Hmm?”
“Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong.”
There was a stiff silence, then she spoke again, her voice so quiet he could hardly hear her. “I think there is.”
He wanted to close his eyes, but he knew he’d simply fall over if he did. Instead, he willed himself to answer. “Honey, you don’t want to know what’s on my mind right now.”
“Yes, I do.”
He tried to keep from responding, but his feet, and those other parts of his body, had minds of their o
wn. Going over to her, he put one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair; he looked her square in the eye. “Are you sure you really want to know?”
Looking worried and anxious, she nodded. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers, turning that initial caress into a hot, wet, searching kiss, his heart working like a bilge pump as he moved his mouth hungrily against hers. She made a strangled sound and grabbed his arm, her breathing suddenly erratic. Murphy kept that kiss going until his ears started to ring and his lungs totally malfunctioned—and until J.J. squawked.
Not sure his lungs were ever going to haul in enough air, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers for a moment, vaguely aware that she was attending to their son. Once he had enough oxygen in his system to stand up without falling over, he pulled away. His hand again gripping the back of her chair, he looked down at her. “Now, that’s what I had on my mind.”
She looked as if her thoughts had been totally short-circuited. Closing her eyes, she took a deep, uneven breath, then glanced up at him, her expression still a little dazed. But a tiny smile appeared. “You’ve had that on your mind quite a bit lately, haven’t you?”
He laughed and gave her nose a light tap. “Yeah. But I’m going to have to make a trip to the drugstore before I get it on my mind again.”
There was a glint in her eyes as she glanced down at the nursing baby, a hint of suppressed laughter in her voice when she responded. “Well, with a load like that, maybe you should go now.”
Murphy decided it was as if J.J. had set out on a mission to keep his parents together, and now that he had accomplished that in spades, he could junk the colic. Well, actually he didn’t completely junk it. He still got fussy and had them jumping through hoops on occasions, but at least at night he would actually sleep between feedings. Which had both Murphy and Jordan absolutely giddy.
Murphy's Child Page 15
