Sandy had fallen asleep for a while, worn out from the day and no doubt, our rather vigorous lovemaking, but she woke at the first far-off rumble of thunder, her body tense. She nestled closer, seeking the shelter of my embrace, and I held her tight, trying to offer what security I could.
She trembled in my arms, her face buried in my chest, small sounds of distress escaping her mouth every so often. I talked to her, smoothing my hands up and down her back in calming passes, whispering words of comfort. I had never seen her so vulnerable. Unsure how else to console her, I began to hum. I always loved to sing to my kids, and I tended to hum under my breath without realizing it. Van teased me about it all the time. When Anna was ill and unable to sleep, I would hum to her—she said she found it soothing and it helped her to rest.
After a while, Sandy relaxed, snuggling closer, but without the tension I had felt in her before. I felt her body grow heavier with sleep and I kept going. I hummed and stroked her hair, enjoying the fact that she was relying on me and that I was helping her.
The storm continued, but she slept, safe and peaceful in my embrace. I hummed until the storm abated, the sounds fading off, leaving only the rain.
Knowing she was resting, I drifted off to sleep, keeping my arms around her. I wondered how to get her to agree to sleep beside me every night. I had a feeling I was going to miss the feel of her next to me once this weekend was over.
Sandy
I paused in front of my favorite Renoir painting again, standing across from it and staring. Something about the colors and light drew me in. Jordan was wandering in another section, but he would know where to find me.
I smiled as I thought about him.
Jordan.
This weekend had been more incredible than I could have imagined. We traveled well together, at ease with each other, and both enjoying the same things. I loved walking with him, often stopping to look at something that caught my eye or popping into a store. He was endlessly patient, never rushing me. He stayed close on our explorations, holding my hand, tucking me into his side. On our Salem walking tour, he had guided me around dips in the sidewalk, low spots in the grass as we followed the group.
The approaching storm made me jumpy, but he kept an eye on the weather and had us back at the hotel long before the storm began.
His massage and the ardent lovemaking that ensued had been one of the most pleasurable experiences of my life. He had no problem with me taking control, his green eyes dark with desire, his warm voice encouraging me as I rode him. I loved watching him lose control. The way his head fell back, his neck muscles tightened as he groaned and murmured in pleasure. How he praised and cajoled as we made love. The way he called my name. His deep, fervent, soul-drugging kisses that thrilled me to the core.
His understanding about my fear of storms was typical Jordan. He accepted it, didn’t make me feel silly for being frightened, and when the storm descended on us, held me close as he promised and kept me safe. When he began to hum, my entire body relaxed. He had a deep, rich tone that soothed me, and combined with his close proximity, he accomplished something which had never happened before. I fell asleep and stayed asleep as the storm raged. Without a nightmare. When I woke up, it was dawn, Jordan was still beside me, his arms a protective shield, and I was fine.
When he woke, we made love again. Sleepy and warm, our movements were unhurried, our kisses long and gentle. He was an amazing lover—giving and patient, talented with his tongue and fingers. I had forgotten the joys of lovemaking. The passionate movements, the sensation of a strong body joined with mine, the pleasure building between us. The whispers and groans. The feel of fingers and lips skimming along my skin. The way the air around us heated, the world shrinking down to the two bodies joined in a dance as old as time.
The massage he had booked this morning was wonderful, but the capable hands of the masseuse had nothing on Jordan’s touch.
Jordan was skilled and passionate. He surprised me with taut muscles and incredible stamina, the way his eyes darkened as he explored my body. The low curses that fell from his lips in the height of passion, the sounds erotic and sexy. He was simply incredible.
Movement caught my eye, and I shifted my gaze to see Jordan headed my way. Tall, handsome, and confident, he strode toward me, a smile meant only for me on his face.
I returned his smile with my own.
Simply incredible, and even more incredible, he was mine.
He reached my side, sliding an arm around my waist and dropping a kiss to my head. “I knew I’d find you here.”
“Having one last look at Landscape on the Coast near Menton.”
He laughed low in his throat. “It’s part of the permanent collection,” he assured me. “We’ll visit again.”
I hugged his arm. “Thank you.”
He patted my hand affectionately. “Anytime.”
Despite the rain, we strolled the streets, dry under a large umbrella Jordan purchased. We found a lovely little bistro and had an early dinner, then headed back to the hotel. We enjoyed each other’s quiet company while I read on my Kindle and Jordan worked on a crossword puzzle. He did them in pen, thoughtfully tapping the nib on his chin as he pondered a word. I liked watching him—the way he furrowed his brow, mouthed a word, or shook his head when he figured out a particularly difficult clue. I had asked him if he ever made a mistake. He had glanced up at me over the rim of his reading glasses, looking sensual and amused.
“No,” was his simple answer.
Eventually, I ended up in the massive tub, surrounded by foam and warm water. I floated, mindless and serene. Jordan strolled in, placing a glass of wine on the ledge. He turned to leave, but I grabbed his hand.
“You could join me.” I winked. “I could wash your back.”
“Is that a fact?”
I nodded, lifting the loofah sponge high. My breast peeked out from the foam, and I grinned. “Oops.”
He lifted one eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Sandy, are you seducing me?”
I fluttered my eyelashes. “Is it working?”
He yanked his shirt over his head. “Damn right.”
Seconds later, he was in the tub with me, dragging me close in the warm water. He wrapped his legs around me, lifting mine over his hips and bringing me flush to him. His erection was already hard and pressed between us, and I whimpered at the feel of him. He yanked me to his chest, running his lips up my neck to my ear. “See what you do to me, my darling?” He nipped at my neck. “One glimpse of your sexy body all wet and naked, and I’m hard.” He cursed low in his throat as I rolled my hips. “Fuck, Sandy, I want you.”
Hearing him curse, lose control of his gentlemanly, polite ways, did something to me. He grasped my neck, drawing my face to his and kissed me. Endless moments passed as we lost ourselves to the growing passion. I ached with my need for him, longing to feel him inside me. I gripped the edges of the tub, lifting myself up, then lowering down on his hardness, inch by inch. I never broke eye contact, letting him see the pleasure I felt. When we were flush, when he was buried so deep inside me it was as if we were one, I leaned close to his ear. “Take me, Jordan.”
He grabbed my hips, setting the pace. This wasn’t the gentle lovemaking I’d experienced with him all weekend. It wasn’t me who had control this time either. This was fast, hard, and intense. He licked at my neck, sucked my breasts, and drove into me like a man possessed. I felt claimed. Sexy. Powerful.