“You don’t need a condom,” she tells me.
“You sure?” I’m not about to tell her I packed a stash just in case my dreams did come true on this visit. We’d stopped using them shortly before… well, before the crash.
Jordan hesitates for just a second, and I don’t like the shadow that passes across her face for an instant. “I mean, unless you think we need them now?”
I start pulling down her jeans, wanting that lust-filled look on her face again. “We don’t need one,” I promise, wanting to be skin to skin. My hands cup her center and she’s back to moaning and begging. Jordan doesn’t want foreplay and I’m totally okay with that.
Jordan
My eyes flutter closed as he enters me. It’s the most overwhelming pleasure, having Beck inside me. There’s some pain too, but even that I welcome. It tells me he’s really here, connected with me in the most intimate way possible. He pauses when he’s as far as he can go, and my eyelids lift.
“You feel so good, Beck.” I’m not usually a big talker when we’re together like this. There’s so much to take in without any words. But right now, I need him to know exactly how good this is for me. Maybe it’s because we lost our physical connection all this time, but it feels right as I grab his ass and tell him I need him to move.
“Don’t be gentle, Beck. I want all of you.” It’s an echo of what he said before, and I mean it. If there’s anger or frustration at how I’ve handled everything, I want to feel that too.
“Hard?” he grunts, seeking confirmation. He moves his hips solid and sure, but it’s not enough.
“I want everything I’ve missed,” I manage to get out as my body tingles with an awareness I haven’t had in far too long. “Give me all of it, Beck.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“It’s a lot that’s been building for you, Jordan.” His thrusts remain rhythmic and controlled, even as he slams with enough force that it pushes me back on the bed. I reach my legs around him and dig my heels into his back. Lifting up on my elbows to brace myself, I hold his gaze.
“Show me how much.” He drops his chin, like he’s unwilling to give me what I’m asking, and that’s when I drop the last encouragement that I know will make him lose control. “This isn’t enough, Beck. I need more.”
Yeah, Beck bucks harder then, rocking my body despite my efforts to hold myself up. His hands move under my shoulders to steady me and he begins to pound in earnest. Beck’s always made me feel alive in bed and cherished at the same time. In this moment though, it’s the first time I’ve really seen him lose control the way I want him to. I want this to be about him. I need him to let it all out. And this is how I want him to do it. Holding me the way he is, our breaths mingling, unable to kiss properly with the harsh jerking of our bodies. A bead of sweat drops from his forehead to mine, and when I tug his lip closer with my teeth, he plunges his tongue inside in a hungry kiss that has our teeth clashing together.
Beck unleashed is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. He moves one hand from my shoulder to my ass, somehow making his angle even deeper. Then he lifts up on a knee, increasing his tempo and sending me over the edge. As I go, incoherent words tumble from my lips.
I didn’t think it was possible, but Beck somehow goes deeper, harder, faster just as I’m coming down. Pleasure bursts from my center, making my back arch with the ferocity of it as I sense Beck expanding within me. His release fills me as his movements jerk and little by little slow until he lowers me back down and releases his grip on my ass. Beck’s palm strokes over my hip and moves up my body, gently cupping my breast as he trails kisses over my face.
“You okay?”
“Wow, Beck.” That’s all I can manage to get out.
“You didn’t know how bad I missed you, did you?”
I find the energy to drag my hand up to cup his face, tracing my thumb along his cheekbone.
“You really did, huh?”
He nods.
“I felt that,” I confirm. “Still not sure it’s as much as I missed you,” I add with a little shrug, enjoying teasing him.
“You’re still wearing my necklace.” Beck’s teeth drag along it as his lips brush my collarbone.
“I’m still yours, Beck. It never stopped.”
Beck raises his head, vibrant blue eyes peeking under dark lashes. “Yeah?”
How does he not know? I barely lasted a week without calling him.
“Yeah, so better make a good impression on my parents. No pressure or anything, but meeting them butt-ass naked probably isn’t the best approach.”
Chapter Twelve
Beck
“You know,” Jordan’s dad says. “Most fathers would be concerned with their eighteen-year-old daughter dating someone seven years older than her.”
“That’s fair. Are you concerned?”
“See, I know better.”
“Can’t wait to hear this,” his wife mutters as she butters a roll.
“Men are a good ten years behind women in emotional maturity. On average. So, giving you the benefit of the doubt that you’re above average, emotional maturity-wise you’re about the same age.”
“False, Dad,” Jordan says.
“Yeah, he’s missing an important point in his efforts to suck up to the females at the table,” Colleen, Jordan’s mom, says.
“Well, shoot.” Ted looks at me. “See, I don’t even question it. I know better by now. I probably am missing something.”
“I’m above average too, Dad. So really, I’m still more emotionally mature than Beck.”
Colleen nods. “Sorry, Beck. But it’s true.”
I share a look with Ted. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. My sister’s almost ten years younger than me and definitely wiser.”
Colleen points her fork at her daughter. “I’m glad you took my advice, sweetie.”
“Which advice, Mom?”
“You should find a guy with a sister. Men with sisters understand women better.”
“Dad doesn’t have any sisters.”
“Yes, I had to train him. If they don’t have sisters they need a daughter. Beck has a head start.”
Now Jordan and I share a look. Hers is slightly apologetic and embarrassed, but I’ve never been more content in my life.
When we first started talking regularly again, I was just grateful she didn’t seem intent on kicking me out of her life entirely. It gave me an opening, room to hope that maybe someday we could be together again. But she never mentioned that possibility, so when I got on a plane this morning, I didn’t let myself think that time would be now. I assumed she had more healing to do, not necessarily physically, but from all the shit that had gone down. She still hadn’t said a word about skateboarding, and I assumed that meant she wasn’t ready to compete again either. I don’t buy that she’s done with competing forever either.
“In all seriousness, Jordan told us you two are just friends now, so I know I’m not supposed to be talking to you like you’re thinking about marrying her or anything.”