by Kimberly van Meter - A Sinclair Homecoming (The Sinclairs of Alaska)
“The structure,” she answered wistfully. “I liked that there was order, which was something I never had growing up. No matter how hard my mom tried, a houseful of six kids is going to be chaos at a certain level. I craved structure when I left home. I definitely got that and more from the Navy.”
“Why’d you come back to Braxville?” he asked.
“Turns out I missed home,” she replied with a small laugh. “And I wanted to go into law enforcement. When an opportunity to join the Braxville Police Department popped up, I took it.”
“Are you happy with that decision?”
“Of course,” she answered, but there was the faintest hesitation he sensed. Everyone had regrets, even people who said they were blissfully happy. “Sometimes I wish there was more action, but now I’ve got two cases without easy answers and I’m wondering if I should be careful what I wish for.”
“There’s a possibility my case is a simple robbery gone wrong,” he reminded her. “If it weren’t for the knot on my head and the amnesia, you probably wouldn’t be spending so much time on trying to find who did it.”
“You were assaulted. In a town as tight-knit as Braxville, an assault doesn’t go unnoticed. People feel safe here for a reason. I can’t just shrug off your case on the assumption that it was probably a failed robbery.”
He admired her dedication. There was a lot to admire when it came to Jordana. Damn, he wished he could remember more about his own life. It felt like half a person with his memory gone. “I thought this amnesia thing was something they made up in the movies. I didn’t know it happened to real people,” he said. “Being on the receiving end, I can tell you, zero stars. I do not recommend.”
She laughed. “I can only imagine. I’m sorry your memory hasn’t kicked in yet.”
“Yeah, me, too. It’s disconcerting not being able to tell if I like raisins or not.”
“Take from me, raisins are gross. Shriveled up little husks of former grapes...they’re not only gross but macabre, too.”
At that, he laughed. “Maybe I’ll take your word for it.”
They arrived at the place and exited the car. Jordana gave him a quick smile before saying, “You passed your driving test. You might not remember much about yourself but you remember how to drive. I consider that a good sign.”
He gestured to the massive building. “I guess we’ll see how good I am at climbing. If I fall on my face, promise not to laugh?”
“I promise no such thing.”
“Harsh.”
She winked as she pulled the door open. “Don’t fall.”
Excellent advice.
Don’t fall. He watched as Jordana walked with easy familiarity to the counter, throwing down some cash to enter. She wore tight leggings and tennis shoes and a formfitting top that showed off her trim figure. He didn’t know what he liked as far as women went but he liked what he saw in Jordana. Why was she single? Were all the men in Braxville dumb and blind? A lesser man might be intimidated by Jordana.
He found her breathtaking.
She turned to him, waving him over. “C’mon, pay up! I’m about to show you how it’s done.”
Clint grinned. “I love a woman with balls bigger than mine,” he quipped, throwing down his own cash. “But don’t worry, honey, I’ll go easy on you.”
“Challenge accepted, big man,” she taunted with a darling smile that made him want to throw her over his shoulder and claim her as his. Damn, it was a good thing he was about to get his sweat on because he had way too much testosterone pickling his brain.
As he watched her attack the hardest climbing wall in the place, lithe muscles working, determination etched on her expression, that reminder came floating back.
Don’t fall for her.
What if it was too late?
Chapter 10
Jordana was covered in sweat, muscles loose and worked out, her hair a damp mess—and she couldn’t stop smiling.
For one, she smoked Clint on the climbing wall, and two, a shirtless Clint was an image she’d savor for months to come.
“Not bad,” she told him, throwing him a bone as she wiped herself down with a small towel. “I think you can respectfully hold your head up in mixed company.”
“You’re too kind. You shimmied up that rock wall like you were a monkey in a past life. I was just trying to keep up so I didn’t lose my man card.”
She laughed, tossing him a clean towel. “Your man card is safe,” Jordana assured him, her gaze lingering a little too long on the firm muscle cording his stomach. A whole lot of man was hiding beneath those buttoned-down shirts. Jordana forced herself to look away as he finished. Once he’d thrown the used towel in the bin, they checked out, the mild fall air caressing their faces, practically inviting them to take a picnic at a park.
What would people say if they saw them? That niggling voice of doubt was less strident away from Braxville but it was still there.
“You’re an amazing woman, you know that?” Clint said, that grin sending tendrils of need and want curling through her body. He was so damn nice to look at. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt drawn to another person like she was drawn toward Clint and she didn’t know how to handle herself.
“You’re no slouch yourself,” she murmured, glancing up at him through her lashes. She never flirted but she was doing it now. Kiss me, damn it, before I come to my senses and shut you down! The energy around them crackled with tension. She could almost hear their heartbeats beating as one.
“Am I off base or...” He looked to Jordana, his gaze fastening on hers with the same energy. When Jordana gave him the green light with a small, breathless nod, he looked like he’d won the lottery. He reached, pulling her into the cove of his arms, saying, “Thank God. I’ve wanted to kiss you for longer than I should admit but, you know, boundaries.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” Jordana said, lifting her mouth to meet his. His lips, soft and firm, brushed across hers, setting her soul on fire. She willfully ignored that anyone could see them, taking the chance that the odds were slim that someone from Braxville might recognize her. His tongue swept her mouth and she rose on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. The sharp musky smell of man rose beneath the notes of his aftershave, tickling her senses.
He tasted and smelled like a snack she could happily enjoy for the rest of her life.
They broke the kiss but she continued to cling to him, his arms around her feeling like the home she never realized she was missing. “We’ve really done it now,” she warned with a breathless laugh. “I can hear rules breaking all over the place.”
“I only care if you do,” he said.
She met his gaze and realized with wonder, “I don’t really care.”
“Good because I know exactly what I want to do with you,” he said, slipping her hand in his as they walked briskly to the car. She laughed and eagerly followed where he led.
Climbing into the car, fastening her seat belt, she asked, “And what did you have in mind?”
“The closest hotel.”
Her opportunity to cool the heat between them flashed before her eyes but she didn’t want to stop. In one breath, she tossed all the good reasons why this was a terrible idea right out the window.
You barely know him.
You’re breaking all the rules—yours and the department’s.
You shouldn’t open a door you can’t close.
The gossip hounds will eat you alive!
Oh, yeah, all excellent reasons to pump the brakes but Jordana couldn’t imagine a better idea than to end up skin against skin with this man. The heat between them could warm a small country and she couldn’t wait to throw more kindling on the fire.
She ignored the shrill little voice at the back of her head and instead played his willing navigator. “There’s a small motel off Greenberg Avenue. It’s qui
et and off the main road. It’s also clean and cheap.”
“And you know this because...?”
Jordana laughed. “Because a few officers from the department stayed there for an interagency conference. It was easier than driving home each day.”
“Works for me,” he said, pulling onto the main road, the tension between them humming.
A few minutes later—after a hurried detour to the closest pharmacy for condoms—they were checked into the motel, and before they even reached their door, they were all over each other. Hands, mouths, breath mingling and fingers fumbling for the door. They finally burst through the door. Clint kicked it shut with his foot, tossing the keys to the dresser, and they tumbled to the bed.
Hunger and desire blotted out rational thought as she stripped out of her clothes, watching with rapt anticipation as Clint shed his, as well. She rose on her knees, admiring God’s handiwork on the male canvas before her. A light dusting of hair furred his chest, traveling down his belly to pool in a dark but neatly trimmed nest where his erection sprung, hard and ready.
“You might not remember who you are but I like who you are right now,” she said, gently cupping the warm, soft flesh of his sac while she nuzzled the spicy length of his manhood. She wanted the taste of him, her mouth hungering for the feel of his length. He groaned as her mouth closed over the soft head, her tongue playing with the slit at the top, tasting the faint saltiness of his excitement. “Mmm, I love the way you taste,” she said, thrilling at the feel of his fingers threading through her hair, his breath short.
After a few moments of teasing, taking his length down her throat, he groaned and gently pulled away, his gaze dark and consuming as he stared down at her. “Not so fast, you little devil. Your turn,” he said, giving her a gentle push and sending her tumbling backward into a soft cloud of bedding. He opened her legs and stared with hungry appreciation before saying, “Damn, woman, I think I died and went to heaven.”
She didn’t have time to roll her eyes with a blush because Clint was serious about taking his turn, only he was determined to make her climax. Jordana twisted her hands in the bedding as Clint’s tongue worked masterful strokes against her swollen nub, sucking, nipping and pushing her ever closer to that cliff, only to pull back and start over.
Oh, God, had she ever been so thoroughly mastered by a man’s mouth? No, never, but Clint was quickly proving he was a man above all others.
Fresh sweat broke out across her skin. A low moan escaped her parted lips. Her hips lifted as he held her against his mouth. She couldn’t escape what was building. Her nipples pearled, tight and hard, as she crashed into a climax so hard her toes curled and a cry fell from her mouth as she gasped his name over and over. Everything inside her clenched and released in a rhythmic dance that stole her breath and left her shaking.
Holy hell, what’d just happened? The answer came swift and with stunning clarity as she struggled to catch her breath.
I think I just fell in love.
* * *
Hearing Jordana keen her climax was music to his ears. Going on instinct, he followed her cues as he drove her closer to that edge so that when she finally tumbled over, she would lose her ever-loving mind in the fall.
And it was sweet.
She tasted like honey, and he already wanted more. He didn’t care about anything but this moment. Clint couldn’t say for sure but this felt different than anything he’d ever known. He wanted to consume Jordana, to become one with the delicious woman beneath him until neither knew where one stopped and the other began. It was the craziest feeling but he also knew he could trust it as genuine.
But now, he needed to be inside her. He climbed her body, pausing to slip a tight, budded nipple in his mouth, sucking and teasing as he’d done to her clit, and then continued on to seal his mouth to hers. She groaned against him, her tongue darting to taste herself on his lips.
The heat between them seared the air. After sheathing himself, he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly pushed deep, groaning as she swallowed him whole. Oh, God, it felt so good. He wanted to make her climax again but his eyes were crossing from the pleasure. She clenched herself around him, sending stars whizzing across his vision. “If you keep doing that, I won’t last long,” he bit out a rueful warning, sweat dotting his hairline. “You feel so damn good, woman.”
Jordana giggled, low and throaty, pulling him deeper inside her. “You can make it up to me,” she said, nibbling at his neck as his muscles strained.
He kissed her long and deep as he slowly thrust against her, building that heat again. Before long, she was clinging to him, whimpering as he kept hitting a good spot.
And damn, was it good for him, too.
Just a few more minutes, he pleaded with himself, clenching his jaw, as the pleasure ramped up, building to that inevitable moment. Puppies, kittens, basketball, runny oatmeal—he tried pulling anything and everything into his mental theater to stall his orgasm but it simply felt too good between her thighs; that wet heat was more than he could ignore and he came hard.
“Jordana,” he gasped, thrusting against her like a wild man, losing all semblance of control. He finished with a gasp and collapsed against her, his member throbbing inside her with residual waves of pleasure. He groaned and rolled off, his heart beating with the speed of a runaway train. “I think I’m about to have a heart attack,” he said with an exhausted grin. “But man, but what a way to go.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You know we’ve really screwed things up by doing this, right?”
“Don’t care.”
Jordana rolled to her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “Is that so?”
He wasn’t lying. “Nope. It was worth it. You’re worth it.”
She sobered, her eyes like twin seas after a storm. “You say that now but...”
Clint met her gaze. “And I’ll keep saying it. Nothing will change my opinion on that score.” He sealed his mouth to hers before she could launch a counterargument. Something about her felt right, more true than anything he’d ever known. Given that his life had been turned upside down and he could trust very little, he was going to be greedy about holding on to what felt real. Breaking the kiss, he murmured, “Any questions?” and Jordana shook her head in answer. “Good.”
He knew all the arguments against what they’d done—as well as the ethics—but none of that mattered to him. He may have come to Braxville for different reasons but Jordana was his reason to stay.
At least for now.
It seemed his business partner, Locke, had things well in hand back in Chicago, so who was to say that he couldn’t take a minivacation with Jordana? He was the boss. He could do as he pleased. And nothing would please him more than spending days in bed with this incredible woman.
“Do you think we could get a restaurant to deliver here?” he asked in all seriousness. “I’m starved.”
“This isn’t the Ritz,” she reminded him with amusement. “But I think there’s a vending machine down the hall. You might be able to find some chips and a soda.”
“That’s not good enough for the fuel we’re going to need,” he said, bounding from the bed, aware of how she watched him with unabashed hunger. “We can order a pizza, then.”
“And just what exactly do you plan to do that you need to carb-load?” she asked with a provocative slow roll to her belly, glancing at him with playful seduction.
That beautiful, heart-shaped ass with its soft, rounded cheeks begged for his hands, lips and tongue, and he had to swallow first before he could rejoin her with a promise. “Oh, woman, the things I’m going to do to you might be illegal in some states.”
He was suddenly thankful he’d grabbed the big pack of condoms because damn if he wasn’t ready to go again right now.
“Ah, hell, food can wait.”
And suddenly he wasn’t thinking about h
is stomach anymore.
Chapter 11
“You know we can’t stay holed up in this motel forever,” Jordana said around a hot bite of take-out pizza. “At some point we have to go back to Braxville, or at least I do. My boss might start to question if I’ve been kidnapped if I don’t clock in within a few days.”
Clint responded with a regretful sigh. “I know but let’s enjoy our illicit moment a little while longer.”
Jordana and Clint had spent the night and following day hiding from the world, having sex, showering, ordering takeout and starting all over again, but Jordana knew reality wasn’t too far behind.
“I don’t want this to end,” he said.
“I don’t, either, but I can’t have people questioning my integrity if they find out we’re sleeping together. I just want you to know, I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said, worried Clint might think this was a normal thing for her. “I’m straight as an arrow, most days. I don’t even claim an extra shirt on my uniform allowance like most people.”
He chuckled, “Calm down, Dudley Do-Right,” he said, putting her at ease “I know you’re not that kind of person. We have insane chemistry and that’s hard to fight.”
“Insane is right,” she agreed with a worried frown. “But what does that mean? I mean, what’s happening right now?”
“Do we have to define it?”
“Yeah, I think we do.” She wasn’t the kind of woman who did things spontaneously or rashly, and the fact that she’d fallen into bed with the victim in an assault case she was investigating left her feeling off-center. “I’m not saying I want you to put a ring on my finger but... I don’t know, this is outside of my comfort zone.”
“I like you,” Clint said. “I want to keep seeing you. To me, it’s that simple.”
“There’s nothing simple about that at all,” she disagreed. “If my captain finds out about this, I could get kicked off both cases. I shouldn’t have done this. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
