CHAPTER FIVE

 

● ≈ ● ≈ ●

 

STRETCHED OUT IN his favorite chair, legs reaching towards the roaring fire, Murphy rested his head on the soft upholstery, eyes closed. The puppy—tummy full, bladder empty—was content to lie on her back, her sharp baby teeth gnawing at the end of his thick sock.

"Watch the toes, little one."

"You need to give her a name."

Murphy opened one eye. He'd insisted on taking care of the dishes, but when he finished, Jordyn had pushed him out of the kitchen, intent on making the counters shine. Apparently satisfied with her efforts, she joined him in the living room, taking a seat on the sofa.

The dark, glossy hair Jordyn had piled on top of her head sat off center, messy wisps falling around her face. Without a trace of makeup. Dressed in a baggy long-sleeved t-shirt, faded jeans, and a pair of his gray work socks. At the moment, she wasn't exactly cover girl ready.

But the perfection of a cover girl was mostly smoke, mirrors, and expert photoshopping.

Jordyn didn't need hours of primping and pampering. She glowed. Her clear, creamy skin. Her dark green eyes. The way one corner of her lips curved into a half smile before the rest of her mouth followed.

In his wilder days, Murphy knew a lot of women. Many, many. Casually and intimately. Ones who were hailed as the great beauties of their day. The first time he'd seen Jordyn, he thought she would fit right in with the best of the best.

However, at this moment? Those other women couldn't begin to hold a candle to her.

The puppy chose that moment to bite his big toe.

"You're pretty cute, too." Murphy laughed, lifting her onto his lap.

"Well?" Jordyn asked. "What are you going to call her?"

"Why me? You found her."

"We both know she'd be better off here with you. All this land for her to run around? Puppy heaven. All I can offer is a walk to the park once a day."

Murphy scratched the puppy's tummy as he considered Jordyn's words. Despite how well she fit in around here, she had sophisticated city girl written all over her. She didn't belong in the mountains, far away from civilization.

Realizing where his thoughts were headed, Murphy put on the brakes. He and Jordyn barely knew each other. They didn't share a past. They would never have a future.

Live in the here and now, Murphy.

"I suppose you're right." Murphy chuckled when he noticed the dog was already asleep, her little legs sticking straight up in the air. "Even if somebody shows up to claim her, thinking of something to call her other than 'the puppy' won't hurt."

"Good." Jordyn stood. "I think I'll take a shower."

"Need any help?"

Murphy waited. He gave an opening. Would she jump through, or slam the door in his face?

Jordyn paused, her green gaze enigmatic.

"I think I can handle the job alone."

"There are extra towels in the cupboard outside the bathroom," he called out as Jordyn jogged up the stairs.

Need any help? Murphy rolled his eyes. Smooth line. For a second, he thought Jordyn might laugh in his face. He wasn't sure he would have blamed her.

He could sit and fantasize about what Jordyn was up to in his guest room. Or, he could stop acting like a hormone-riddled teenager and do something productive.

Murphy tucked the sleeping puppy in the crook of his arm, heading for the garage where he found a small cardboard box. He added a fluffy towel before settling the dog inside. She blinked once and yawned, before dropping back to sleep.

"You can sleep in my room for tonight. But not on my bed. Understand?"

The puppy let out a soft snort.

"I'm serious. If you're going to stay, we need to set some rules. I don't have an exact list. But number one? You have your bed, I have mine."

Murphy set the box just inside his bathroom door, a bowl of water nearby, then tiptoed away, into the hall.

"Is she asleep?" Jordyn asked as she walked from her room wearing a thick terrycloth robe. Her hair was hidden from his view by a turban-style twisted towel.

"For now. Though I don't know how long she'll stay that way. Puppies don't like to be alone—from what I understand."

"Here." Jordyn held out her phone. "Put this on something out of her reach."

Murphy frowned when he heard the sound of a clock. Then—as he caught on—he grinned.

"The ticking acts as a simulation of her mother's heartbeat."

"Exactly." Jordyn nodded.

"Thanks." Murphy gently closed the door after he'd deposited the phone near the puppy.

"There's an app for everything these days."

Murphy hadn't downloaded as much as his electricity bill in the past two years. He wasn't exactly off the grid. However, he'd happily left behind the internet plus the craziness attached.

"How about a little quid pro quo?" Jordyn looked at him over her shoulder as she started down the stairs.

"What did you have in mind?" Murphy asked. The gleam in her eyes stirred his hope. And a certain part of his anatomy.

Jordyn stopped, her back to the fire. Reaching up, she removed the towel, her hair falling past her shoulders. Red highlights glistened, popping from the slightly damp tresses.

"I have a major phobia about ticks," she explained. "After my walk through the woods, I won't sleep a wink unless I check every inch of my body. Unfortunately, some places are a bit difficult for me to reach."

Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound of Murphy's heart when he realized Jordyn wanted to play a little game. Winners all around.

"Where would you like me to start?"

As Jordyn lightly rubbed her chin with the pad of her thumb, she pointed to his chair.

"I'll sit in front of you. You can run your fingers through my hair. In case I missed something."

Lips twitching, Murphy took her hand, lowering her to the floor. Of all the hundreds of times he'd sat in his favorite chair. Enjoying the fire. Or the view out his windows, tonight—with Jordyn settled between his legs, his fingers touching her impossibly soft hair—made those other times pale in comparison.

Murphy touched her scalp, his fingertips light but thorough. Jordyn sighed, her head falling back.

"Wonderful."

"You smell like a spring garden," Murphy said as his lips brushed her ear.

"All natural is always best. I'll leave behind the shampoo and conditioner."

The last thing Murphy wanted was for Jordyn to remind him that tomorrow, she'd be gone. So, he pushed the thought out of his head, breathing deeply. To remember.

"The scent of flowers and manly men don't mix," he teased. Her gentle laugh, his reward.

"Men are at their manliest when they aren't afraid to embrace their feminine side. However, I agree. You aren't the roses and lavender type. Luckily, I always carry several options. Citrus I think. Unless you're opposed to smelling like a lemon."

At the moment, she could have doused him with Chanel No. 5, and he wouldn't have blinked. He was too busy taking his first taste of Jordyn. The curve of her ear. The side of her neck.

"Take off your robe."

Just saying the words made the breath catch in his throat. When Jordyn rose to her knees, her hands going to the tie around her waist, Murphy waited, his mouth suddenly dry.

One arm came free, then the other.

The dancing fire caught the twinkle in Jordyn's deep-green eyes as she lay on the deep-pile rug that ran between Murphy and the stone hearth. Face down, the robe dipped to the small of her back—no lower.

"My back is the hardest spot for me to check on my own."

Murphy breathed deeply. In. Out. In. Out. Jordyn sent him a provocative, knowing smile. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, her head turned his way, cheek pillowed on her arms.

All evening, Murphy had waited—his patience tested mightily—for Jordyn to make the first move. If she wanted to seduce him with a slow, torturous tease, he didn't mind. However, she needed to realize he could give as good as he got.

"Give me a second." Standing, Murphy pulled his shirt over his head. "Kind of hot in here."

Biting her lower lip, Jordyn watched as he continued to disrobe until all that remained were his low-riding jeans. When he took a step toward her, her smile invited him even closer.

"And getting hotter by the second," she whispered.

"So soft." Murphy touched Jordyn's shoulder, his mouth following their path. "Warm. Sweet."

Jordyn arched her back, her sighs of pleasure spurring on his every move. All pretense of where they were headed evaporated the second Murphy slid his fingers under her robe, caressing the gentle swell of her butt. He moved the garment lower, revealing every inch of her ivory skin to his gaze.

Murphy kissed the backs of her long shapely legs, down to her feet. He smiled when, as he licked her calf, Jordyn's toes curled—a sure signal she wanted more.

"Murphy?"

"Hmm?"

"You haven't kissed me."

"Sure I have," he teased, knowing exactly what Jordyn wanted. "From your neck to the soles of your feet."

"Only the back." Jordyn gasped when his teeth bit her little toe. "What about my front half?"

"All you had to do was ask."

Slowly, Murphy turned Jordyn onto her back. Some women were made to be naked. And the reason had nothing to do with the shape of their bodies. Thin or fat. Curvy or angular. They were comfortable with who they were—inside and out.

Jordyn was one of those women. He could tell by the way she met his gaze. Full on. She stretched her arms over her head, baring all. The look in her eyes almost dared him to find fault with what she so generously was about to share.

Jordyn didn't need approval. Not his. Not anybody's.

"Thank you."

Surprise flickered in her eyes.

"I haven't done anything. Not yet."

"You're here. With me." Murphy took Jordyn's hand, raising the palm to his lips. "Is there any place you'd rather be?"

Jordyn shook her head.

"Then, I'll repeat myself—for emphasis. Thank you, Jordyn."

"You're welcome. I'll save the thank you for later. Though." Jordyn grinned, her eyes running over his face, down his bare chest. "Just looking at you makes me grateful."

"Only grateful?" Murphy unbuttoned his jeans.

"Keep undressing."

"Like this?"

He lowered the zipper—then his jeans. With excruciating care. Socks. Boxers. Until Murphy was as naked as Jordyn.

Jordyn's chest expanded as she inhaled sharply. "Very, very grateful. With a fat, juicy cherry on top."

"I have a can of whipped cream in the refrigerator if you want something to sit your cherry on."

Jordyn laughed. And what a laugh. Low. Husky. The sound hit Murphy straight in the gut—before heading south.

"Did I say I was grateful? I misspoke." She licked her lips, the air rushing from her lungs. "You are a very big man. All over. Thank you, Mother Nature."

Murphy couldn't remember the last time he had so much fun. He would have sworn that where sex was concerned, he'd done everything the brain could imagine. But teasing, laughing foreplay? Jordyn had done the impossible. She'd introduced him to something new.

Something he never would have guessed could be so effortlessly erotic.

"What about me?" Murphy asked, moving toward her. "I work out. Swim. Run. Lift weights. Yoga is my religion."

"Yoga? Really?"

"Every other day. Without fail." Kneeling, Murphy touched her hip, running his hand down her firm, yet incredibly soft, leg. "Shouldn't I get some credit for the pleasure you get from looking at my body?"

"You're a joy to behold, Murphy. I'll give you credit for taking care of the body you were blessed with. But I can go to a museum if all I want to do is look at a beautifully constructed man."

"Cold marble," he said, dismissive of the idea.

While Murphy's touch took a southern route, Jordyn's began at his waist, moving up. Her fingers traced the ridges of his flat, muscled stomach. Over his ribs. His pecs. His shoulder. Coming to a stop, she cupped his cheek.

"Cold marble. Warm flesh. What's the difference?" Rising, Jordyn pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. "Unless you know how to use the gifts you were given."

"What can I do to prove my expertise?"

Murphy knew the answer. Confident. Cocky. Positive he could deliver. However, he wanted specifics. Straight from Jordyn's beautiful mouth. Because once they began, if she could utter more than a few exclamatory words of pleasure, he wasn't as good as he thought.

And—as Jordyn was about to find out—Murphy was very good indeed.

Jordyn wouldn't be backed into a corner. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck.

"Surprise me," she whispered.

"Okay." Murphy slid his hand under Jordyn's silky hair as he pushed her gently to her back. Leaning over her, his lips a breath away from hers, he chuckled. "But are you sure you know what you're asking?"

"Yes!" Jordyn cried out, trying in vain to tug him closer. "I want you, Murphy. Now! Show me what I don't know."

A kiss. The perfect place to start. However, the second Murphy touched her mouth with his, all thoughts of teaching Jordyn anything flew from his head. She might not have his experience, but in every way that counted, she was his equal. One hundred percent.

Protection. Murphy groaned. He'd been so caught up in one single kiss—the way Jordyn tasted as he ran his tongue over her sweet, welcoming lips—he almost forgot something he hadn't gone without since his first. Even as an overeager teenager, he remembered to use a condom.

However, Jordyn. Her scent. Her touch. She could scramble his brains like no woman he'd ever met.

Breathless, face flushed a lovely shade of pink, Jordyn clutched Murphy's arm, stopping him from leaving.

"The pocket of my robe."

"Can you read my mind?" Murphy asked—a bit bemused—when he found the box.

"Right now? Yes." A concerned frown touched her brow. "I hope they'll fit."

Murphy felt a flush spread across his own cheeks. A little pride, a little impatience. A mounting, uncontrollable need.

"I'm not that big, Jordyn."

"Big enough." Her eyes followed his every movement, the color flowing from dark to a bright, shiny emerald. "Just about right. I hope."

"Don't worry. We'll fit. Perfectly."

Murphy took Jordyn's mouth again, the intensity growing with each second. Her arms snaked around his waist, pulling her as close as two bodies could be.

Warm and sexy. Soft and sweet. Yet, Jordyn wasn't content to lie back and let him lead the way. She let him know what she wanted. And—like him—she wanted everything.

No holds barred.

As Murphy settled between Jordyn's welcoming thighs, he smoothed back her hair. Slowly, he entered her. Eyes locked, the firelight let him catch, enjoy, revel, in every emotion as they flickered across her face.

A gasp of wonder. A sigh of pleasure. Every sound urging Murphy on. Just this side of out of control. Wild. Abandoned. And finally, Jordyn's exuberant cry sent him rushing after her. Tumbling together in a never-ending free fall of release.

The landing wasn't pretty, but oh so satisfying. They lay together, a gasping heap of sweaty, tangled limbs. Minutes—hours?—later, when he was finally able to move, Murphy pushed his hair out of his face, glancing at Jordyn.

"You were right." She grinned from ear to ear. "We fit. Perfectly. I only have one question."

Murphy turned onto his side, raising her hand to his lips. His grin matched hers as she snuggled close.

"Ask away."

"How soon can we do it again?"

Part groan, part shout of laughter, Murphy rolled to his back, Jordyn blanketing his chest. He took her discarded robe, covering their rapidly cooling bodies.

"Five minutes?" he asked.

"Sounds good." Jordyn kissed the side of his neck. "By the time I finish, you should be ready for round two."

"Finish what?"

"Lie back and enjoy."

Jordyn proceeded to make a meal of his body. A feast, she declared in between nibbled bites. With her help, Murphy was ready in less than his promised five minutes.

To his amazement, Murphy was as blown away by the second time they came together as the first. Just as wild. Just as exciting. Just as intense. The more he touched Jordyn, the more he wanted. The more he wondered if he would ever get his fill.

His hand resting on the small of her back, Murphy marveled at the woman and the passion she inspired in him. Sex had become a release. Enjoyable. Nice. He spent so much time alone, now and then he needed the brief connection with another human being.

Sex with Jordyn was different. She touched something deep inside of him. When he looked into her eyes, felt her touch, tasted her skin, Murphy felt a stirring of something he'd lost and never dreamed he could feel again. Something that had died long before he buried himself by this lake, in these mountains.

Passion stirred. A flicker of a long-dead fire. Not just in his body. But in his soul.

"At this rate, we may run out of condoms," Jordyn gasped for air, once more sprawled across his chest.

Murphy smiled, grateful Jordyn had pulled him from the deep thoughts he'd rather put aside for another time. Far, far in the future.

"Don't worry. I have one or two stashed away."

Lips curving, eyebrow raised, Jordyn lifted her head. Her gaze filled with a sexual challenge.

"Is one or two the best you can do?"

Lifting Jordyn with ease, Murphy tossed her onto the sofa. Before she could do more than let out a yelp of surprise, he covered her body with his.

"One was great. Two? Fantastic. I'm more than up for number three—and beyond."