I was on fire. Oh God, I was on fire.

Jordan’s hands were holding me tight against him, his lips plundering mine. It was too much and not enough. Our clothes were in the way. I wanted skin-to-skin. I wanted him on top of me.

And then with a shift of his mouth, everything changed.

The touch softened, his hands came up to gently cup my cheeks. His tongue was gentle and probing.

I sighed and he caught my breath.

“Hi,” he said, pausing to stare down at me.

“H-hi.” My heart was still pounding, that gnawing desire bubbling just under the surface.

His forehead dropped against mine. “You undo me.”

I snorted. “Except you’re not the one with wet panties right now.”

He laughed, the sound puffing against my skin, filling my heart with a lightness that only seemed to appear when Jordan was nearby.

“True,” he said. “Wet isn’t really my problem at the moment.”

My eyes drifted down and I smirked.

“No hammer jokes,” he grumbled.

I couldn’t help it. Apparently, I couldn’t resist an innuendo.

“But there are so many good ones,” I said, laughter punctuating the words. “It’s—”

He kissed me again and it wasn’t the hot, searing-me-to-the-soul kind. Nor was it gentle and coaxing. This one was demanding. He knew what he wanted from my mouth and he took it.

We broke apart, both breathing heavily.

I glared at him with heavy eyes. “Did you just kiss me to shut me up?”

“Did it work?” I opened my mouth indignantly, only to close it when he shot me a teasing look. “I kissed you because I can’t seem to help myself.” His lips twitched. “The shutting up part was just bonus.”

I poked his chest. “Incorrigible.”

“Your big words must come from all the books you read.”

I fanned myself, fluttered my eyes. “Oh darling, you say the sweetest things.”

“You taste sweet.”

My breath caught. Jordan’s hand stroked my waist, inching lower, slipping under the waistband of my slacks. “It’s the fortune cookie.”

“It’s you.” A dip of those fingers, calloused skin brushing the top of my underwear. “I bet you taste sweet here too.”

“Jord—”

“Would you like it if I kissed you there?”

Now that was an image. Who wouldn’t like Thor between her thighs? But . . . I’d been at work all day and wasn’t sure how fresh I was.

“I—”

He tilted his head, fingers running back and forth, back and forth. I wanted them to dip a little deeper, to slide home. “You what?”

One lock of hair had slipped over his forehead and I brushed it back, feeling both extremely self-conscious and turned on. He smelled great. I, on the other hand, probably had B.O. and needed to douse myself in Purell.

“Sweetheart.” He kissed my throat. “What is it? Do you want to go back to crocheting?”

The angst dissipated as I laughed. “God, no.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Just having a girl moment.” I waved a hand. “Ignore me. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

His eyes narrowed and I sighed, knowing him well enough by now to understand he wouldn’t let the point go without further explanation.

“I want you to go down on me, but I’m not sure how”—I waved a hand in the direction of my vagina—“good things are down there at the moment.”

“Because of the baby?”

I shook my head. “It’s been a long day. I haven’t showered—”

Clarity finally dawned on his face. “You want me to eat you out but are worried about how you smell?”

I’m sure my cheeks were bright red. “Yup. That’s pretty much the crux of it.”

“Women.”

“Hey! I’m trying to be considerate—”

“Shush, you.” He picked me up, tossed me on the couch. “I’m trying to lick my girlfriend’s pussy.”

“Jord—” But my protest and embarrassment faded the moment he unzipped my pants and yanked them down my thighs. He dipped a finger beneath my underwear, eyes hot when he found me dripping.

All the air left my lungs when he put that finger in his mouth and sucked.

“Sweet,” he said, voice gruff. “Like I said.”

“Okay,” I whispered in awe. “That might have been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“No, that would be you writhing beneath me.”

“But I—”

He didn’t let me finish, instead yanked my pants past my ankles and started on my shirt. Something ripped. Buttons flew. My underwear disappeared like magic.

And in less time than I could have imagined, I was naked.

Jordan didn’t give me a second to catch my breath. He spread my thighs, tossed one leg over his shoulder, and dove in.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, and then hissed when he chuckled and the sound reverberated through me. He hadn’t shaved for a few days, so his jaw was covered with stubble that added just the right amount of friction. If I’d been wet before, two seconds of his mouth on me and I was absolutely drenched.

His tongue circled my clit, flicking lightly for a few strokes before settling into the perfect rhythm. One warm palm slid up, cupped my breast.

“Oh,” I moaned. “Just like that.” My fingers tangled in his hair when he squeezed my nipple, teasing the hard nub as he licked me.

He switched breasts, sped the movement of his mouth until I was writhing against him. Both hands slid to my waist and he pulled me firmly against his lips, teasing, tormenting, winding me tighter and tighter and tighter until—

Explosion.

White stars flashed behind my closed lids. Pleasure spilled out from my center, radiating into my limbs and leaving me lax.

“Sweetheart?” Jordan’s voice was gentle though laced with just a bit of stiffness. It brought me to my senses.

Slightly.

“Mmm,” I said softly, words not having returned yet.

“Can you?” He shifted between my legs.

I sighed. “Hmm?”

“Can you to let go?”

I blinked, trying to understand what he was talking about. “Killing my buzz, O’Keith.”

Warm hands grasped mine, wrapping around my fingers and unlocking my fists. My eyes shot open to see my hands still wrapped in Jordan’s hair.

And not gently.

I winced. “Sorry.”

“I’m not.” He grinned. “Hang tight.” He rose and went into the kitchen.

A moment later he returned with a towel, wiped my thighs and in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, kissing my cheeks. I knew they were red, but I ignored them.

“Not hardly,” I said. “But thank you all the same.”

“No arguments.” He wiped his chin then sank down onto the couch and pulled me to his chest. “We’ve been through this all before, remember?”

“I remember,” I said lazily, playing with a button on his shirt. “I also know what I look like. I’m fine. I like myself. But I’m not a supermodel.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“And I’m going to accept that compliment, difficult though it may be.” I yawned. “It’s hard to undo years of Weasels with only one prince.”

There was a moment of silence before I processed what I’d said.

“Not that you’re a prince or—” I began.

Jordan laughed. “You think I’m a prince. No take-backsies.”

“Oh lord,” I groaned.

“Tell me more about these Weasels.”

His hand was stroking my hair, petting me, making my eyes drift closed. The gentle caresses—and perhaps the best orgasm I’d ever had—loosened my lips.

“Oh,” I said. “They’re just jerks who sleep with me so they can get close to Seraphina.” Another yawn. “We’ve gotten really good at picking them out.”

“Hey.” Warm fingers under my chin, tilting it back. I blinked my eyes open. “How many?”

“Many what?”

“Weasels.” He clenched his jaw. “How many men have slept with you to get to her?”

I tugged my head free. “Does it matter?”

He dropped his hand to my arm. “Yes.”

Well, he knew everything else about me. Might as well give him the last of it. “Three? Wait. No, four.”

“Assholes.”

I didn’t deny the fact. “Good news is that we’ve gotten really good at detecting them.” I lifted one shoulder. “Especially when you lose your virginity to one.”

Jordan’s nostrils flared. “And you thought I might be one?”

“I don’t think you see yourself clearly,” I said. “You’re Thor reimagined. Tall and blond and all muscle-y. Put that with me—curvy, short, dark—and it doesn’t make sense. Physically, anyway.” My lips twisted. “Physically you’re Seraphina’s perfect match.”

“I’ve never wanted her.”

I smiled gently, running my hand down his chest. He was angry and tense, his words sharp. But not at me.

And I felt another part of my heart become enchanted with the man next to me. Pieces were falling for him left and right and I knew that sooner or later I would be fully gone for him.

I might already be.

“You’re in the minority,” I said softly. “And that’s okay,” I added when he started to protest. “I’m comfortable in my own skin.” A press of my lips to his cheek. “It helps that I’ve ensnared a god.”

“What’s with your obsession with Thor?”

“Have you seen Chris Hemsworth?”

“Of course.”

“Abs. Chest. Arms. Hair.” I tugged his lightly. “Grow yours out, and you’d give him a run for your money.

“Hilarious,” he muttered.

“Regardless,” I said, cuddling up against him. “You do it for me. And not just your body. I like the Jordan from the last few days very much.”

“I like him too,” he said, laughter in his voice.

“And modest too.”

His chest rumbled and I let my eyes slide closed, enjoying the warmth of him, the feel of his fingers running through my hair. I sighed deeply.

He shifted, pulling free of my hold. I moaned in protest. At least until he picked me up from the couch and held me close. “Where’s your bedroom?”

I wasn’t sure I had the energy for a romp but decided I’d give it my best effort. After all, he’d graced me with the orgasm of all orgasms. “Upstairs. Last door on the right.”

He carried me up, depositing me carefully beneath the comforter. I expected him to drop down on top of me. Instead, he asked, “Pajamas?”

I frowned. Was this some sort of kinky fantasy? Pajama fetish?

“You don’t want to keep me naked?”

A masculine chuckle. “Believe me, you could stay naked for the rest of your life if you wanted.” His lips touched mine. “But what do you normally sleep in?”

“A tank top and granny panties.”

He smiled. “And where are said granny panties located?”

I was concentrating on the conversation, but between the post-orgasm glow and the fatigue seeping in, it was difficult. “In the closet. Top drawer on the far right. Tank tops are the drawer below. But what—?”

Without preamble, he spun and walked into my closet. My room was still in shambles, boxes piled against the walls. I’d gotten my clothes put away and the bed made, which was something. But just thinking about what was left to be unpacked made me break out into a cold sweat. The task seemed overwhelming.

Not that I was about to mention that to Jordan and encourage his highhandedness about the movers.

I might be relieved they were coming, but I wouldn’t admit it. Nope, a girl had to have some pride.

A minute later, the man in question emerged with my jammies in his hand. He pulled the comforter back, slipped the tank top over my head, and tugged my underwear up and over my hips.

His eyes were scorching the whole time, his gaze scouring me from the inside out.

But he merely kissed my belly, tucked the blanket up under my chin, and then pressed his mouth to mine.

My head dropped to the side when he leaned back. His hammer was directly in view and he was packing a mega-sized version, not a compact. “Shouldn’t we”—I indicated with my chin, since my arms were cozy warm under the comforter—“take care of that?”

He adjusted the waistband of his jeans and gave me a grin that held a tinge of discomfort. “I think it’s due a pass, don’t you?”

I frowned. “Just because I didn’t get off that night doesn’t mean that I want to punish you now.”

“I know,” he said, but smiled to soften the words. “I want to take things slow with you, honey. And you’re tired. Feeling you come against my mouth was enough.”

I shifted to my side, glancing up at him and stifling a yawn. “When you say things like that I don’t feel quite so tired.”

Jordan kissed my cheek. “Go to sleep.”

“Why not go for a quickie?” I asked. “There isn’t any way I could come again this soon, but I’ll enjoy it and that way, you’ll get off too.”

“I’m filing that statement away for future use,” he said, cupping my cheek for a second before stepping back. “Plus, I don’t want anything quick with you.”

My eyes were drifting closed, but the words made me smile. “Jordan?”

“Hmm?” His voice sounded far away.

“What statement?”

“What?” he asked.

“What statement are you filing away?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. Sleep well.” His footsteps were quiet on the carpet.

“Jordan?”

“What, baby?”

“Key on the counter in the kitchen.” I yawned. “Take it. I don’t need it.”

“Okay, honey.” He flicked off the lights. I heard the door start to close.

“Jordan?”

“Yes?” Even falling headlong into sleep, I could sense his amusement.

“Not quick sounds good to me, too.”