“You smell different.”
Her muscles tense. “That’s because I’m clean.”
A hum rumbles in my throat, and I dip my nose lower to the space behind her ear and inhale. “I liked you better dirty.”
“I liked you better silent.” Despite her words, she tilts her head, opening her neck to me.
I smile, grateful she can’t see how easily she brings the expression out in me. “You’re too good for that job.” I run my lips along her skin.
“On that, we agree. You have no idea how hard it is to find a job in New York.”
I press a kiss to the throbbing vein at her neck and feel her pulse flutter against my lips. “You’re too good for Lincoln.” His name is acid on my tongue.
She turns in my arms and looks up at me. Her makeup covers the freckles on her nose and makes her eyes look bigger and more defined. She’s gorgeous, but I prefer the natural dusty rose color of her lips over the artificial pink. And I miss her freckles. “The day I got lost, I saw Lincoln and Courtney making out and got upset. I ran off. He doesn’t know that I know about them. While we were at the cabin, he practically moved her in. He tossed all my clothes and spent my money. I came back to nothing—whoa, calm down. Are you grinding your teeth?”
I flinch when her palm cups my cheek, but she doesn’t spook, only presses her hand firmer against me. I relax a little under her touch.
“The only reason I’m telling you this is because I absolutely agree. Lincoln’s a bag of dicks.”
I grip her wrist and bring her hand down and into mine. “A bag of dicks would be more useful.” I hit the elevator button, and we continue our ascent.
She chuckles softly. “True.”
I pull her behind me to my front door and into my home. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
Rather than go to the kitchen, I make a right and take her into my bedroom. I hit the lights to dim and release her hand. She crosses to the window and to the living area of my room, where there’s a small sectional, a television, and a gas fireplace.
I head to the bathroom and strip out of my clothes. The shower is hot and welcome after the fourteen-hour day I spent at the office. My neck aches from hours spent over my desk designing, and I allow the hot water to melt away the tension while feeling calmer than ever, knowing that Jordan is safe and nearby. I haven’t slept a solid night since I’ve been back, wondering where she is and what she’s doing. If she’s hurt or suffering. And hating myself for not doing something about it.
“I was going to ask—”
My eyes snap open as Jordan steps into the shower.
“… if there was room enough for one more, but this thing is big enough for ten people.” The hot water hits her naked skin, and she scoots out of the stream. “Hot.”
I adjust the temperature while trying to get my brain caught up to my racing blood at seeing her naked.
Her hands slide from my lower back up to my shoulders, and she digs her fingers into the muscles there before sliding them back down. I turn around and pull her into my arms before slamming my mouth on hers. The kiss is one week of pent-up frustration, seven days of worry, and a soul-deep feeling that I’d lost something integral to my life that has finally been returned to me. Tongues and teeth and roaming hands make for an uncoordinated connection, and I fear that with her ribs still healing, she may slip and get hurt.
I rip my mouth from her and hold her face close. “Shower first.”
“I thought you liked me better dirty.” She presses her lips to mine, and I sink my tongue between her teeth, lick inside her mouth, and maneuver myself to the bench seat.
I sit down, forcing our lips apart, and pull her so that she’s standing between my thighs. Water cascades down her throat and between her breasts and ribs to her belly button and beyond. I lightly run my thumb along her ribs as the water there turns a pale brown.
Her hand covers mine as I swipe at the color that comes off her skin. “Makeup. To cover the marks.”
“I don’t like it.” I continue to rub but can’t seem to get all of it off.
“Without it, I look like I’ve been through a woodchipper.”
I soap up my hands, and she braces herself on my shoulders while I wash the makeup off her torso. My palm and fingers span the length of her ribcage to the slick underside of her breast. I take my time becoming reacquainted with her skin, with her shape.
“Better,” I say when I’ve rinsed off the last of the makeup.
“People don’t tip as well if they can see my flaws.”
I want to tell her that I think her flaws are the most beautiful thing about her, but I’ve learned well enough that my words, no matter how well-intentioned, hurt more than not.
She cups my cheek and brushes her fingers over my skin. “No more beard.”
I turn my lips to her wrist and kiss her. “You like me better with the beard?”
“You’re a pretty man with or without, but you no longer look like my Grizzly.” She smiles shyly and ducks under the stream of water. “You look surprised.”
My Grizzly. As if I belong to her. “Never had anyone call me pretty before.”
I sit back and nod for her to continue washing. I make no attempt to hide my body’s reaction to her. She seems stuck in place, staring at my hard-on, and the attention makes it stiffer.
“I want you.” I grip the thickness and hiss at the slick, constricting contact.
She staggers forward, then stops, and her spine snaps straight. “Is this why I’m here? Are you just looking for an easy fuck?”
I cringe at hearing her refer to herself in such a way. “Nothing about you has been easy.”
She frowns, and I want to punch myself for saying the wrong thing, no matter how truthful it is.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t trust my intentions.”
“Do you trust mine?”
“Worst case scenario, you’re here to use me for sex?” I shrug. “I can live with that.” I don’t tell her that I’ve already decided I’ll never let her go again. She made it pretty clear in the car that she belongs to no one. It’ll take some time and convincing to get her to the understanding that she good and damn well belongs to me.
The sound of her laughter pulls me violently from my possessive inner monologue. I look up just in time to catch her hips as she straddles my lap. The second her heat presses against me, the smile vanishes, and her lips part. She arches her back, grinding against me while her nipples brush against my chest. “This last week has felt like a lifetime.”
I grip the soft flesh of her ass and help her move against me, parting her for deeper contact. “I like the way you feel.” In my space, against my body, and under my skin. I slip my hand between her legs and find her slick and needy. A groan rolls off my tongue when she leans in to lick water from my lips.
I’ve been with professionals in the sex industry who have never managed to turn me on and work me over as well as Jordan does. With her, every touch is intensified and ignites a demand to slam inside her and make her mine.
I grip the base of my dick, and she settles over me, teasing herself before dropping slowly down. We both moan as she seats herself fully. I kiss and suck on her breasts, loving the sounds that she makes while she rolls her hips against me.