ELEVEN
Corinne
Normally, such arrogance turns me off. Sends me hustling in the opposite direction seeking out the nearest exit. But on Jordan? It’s natural. I can’t imagine him giving me some sappy, life affirming reason why I lost my job of three and a half years.
His honesty is refreshing.
“What do you propose then?” I struggle to ask as he massages my sweet spot with his fingers.
“Give me three months.” His lips meet my throat, hot and insistent. “I’ll show you what life without any fucks to give can be like.”
“But I like when you give a fuck,” I tease. “Particularly when you give me a fuck.”
He grins before capturing my lips briefly with his. “Oh, I’ll still have plenty of those kind, baby.”
“Good. Otherwise I’d reconsider this deal.”
“You were never in doubt of it.” He withdraws his fingers from my pussy as I near climax, and holds my gaze while he sucks them clean.
I climax anyway, shuddering as I watch him devour my juices like his favorite dessert.
“Naughty girl.” His eyes harden as he shifts his hands to his belt. “That was mine to have.”
“Better give me another, then.” Using the handles of his cabinetry, I hitch my feet wide, putting my glistening pussy on full display.
He chuckles low in the back of his throat, head shaking. “Like I could resist.”
Jordan’s knees hit the floor, only his mess of dark hair visible as I lean back on my elbows, head against the wall to enjoy the attention he gives. His tongue sweeps the length of my slit, once, twice, three times to drink up what remains of my climax.
A giggle erupts as I let my eyes slip closed; the insanity of this situation takes root.
I lost my job for fucking a consultant in the staff room, and the first thing I did was march my ass over to his house for more.
I’m officially cock-drunk.
“Stay right there.” Jordan’s mouth leaves my heat as he rises and then steps across to the wine fridge.
A wicked smile graces his full lips when he returns with the bottle he poured my drink from. I reach across to get my glass, yet he shakes his head.
Interesting.
He resumes his position, knelt between my legs, the bottle held high over my pelvis. “Perfect combination. A dessert wine, and my favorite sweet treat.”
The ice-cold liquid hits my hood, trickling over my slick folds and down to my ass crack. I let rip an involuntary shiver at how damn cold the wine is, yet the chill is soon replaced by the heat of his mouth.
Different.
Jordan grumbles in appreciation as he laps the beverage from my pussy, pushing his tongue deep on each pass. Goddamn. I’m near climax again, already. This man …
“What do you say, Corinne?” He tips a little more drink over me before setting the bottle aside. “Are you in?”
“Not as though I have any other choice.” Go back to my apartment alone and count the days until my eviction notice? Maybe I could adopt a cat or two. Take up a hobby. Knitting. Yes. I could learn to knit. Going to need a few warm jumpers once I’m homeless …
“We’re going to have so much fun.” He smiles darkly, his hands busy with his pants before they slide to the floor with a satisfying swish. “Now keep those legs wide a little longer.”
I gasp when he hooks both hands beneath my bent knees and drags my ass to the very edge of the counter. My feet find stability on his forearms, my knees around my ears to save from teetering off. He hums contentedly, palm skimming my heat.
“What?” I ask, wondering why the fuck he hasn’t stuck his goddamn dick in me yet.
A woman has needs.
“Wondering what this would have been like all those years ago.”
A little tighter, I imagine. “Decidedly off-limits,” I remind him. “And undoubtedly illegal.”
“Of course.” He teases my pussy with his fingertips. “But still fun to think about.”
I make a mental note to purchase a schoolgirl outfit online as he pushes up on his toes and lines himself with my entrance. He takes what’s his with a single forceful thrust, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel wholly and completely claimed and I can’t say that it’s a feeling I don’t like.
He could collar me, and I’m certain I’d purr in response.
The position I’m in forces compliance as he pulls my backside clean off the counter and thrusts deep and hard. Any movement will either send me ungracefully to the floor, or further into his assault. The slick sounds of his cock entering my pussy are punctuated by his heavy breaths, his eyes hard as he concentrates on where we meet.
“Goddamn I love watching myself fuck you.”
His arms flex and bulge as he takes my weight, the veins in his forearms clear with the effort he exudes. I grapple across the counter for something to steady myself with, and knock the wine bottle to the floor.
It smashes with a resounding crash.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stop. Doesn’t deter in the slightest from what seemingly matters most to him: me.
There’s nothing left to do but give in and trust he has me. I pay attention to the only thing I should in this moment: the pleasure that courses through my body as he lifts my hips the slightest inch to drive in on the perfect angle.
I came here for a reason—a senseless fuck to let go of all responsibility. Because, if I’m to fall from grace then why not do it spectacularly, right?
Yet, as I look at the man who pulls free to help me from the counter, I realize something pretty damn important that I’ve overlooked until this point.
He didn’t judge me. Didn’t kick me out the door with disgust, reminding me that I was nothing more than some emotionless fun. He listened. He listened and after everything I accused him of, reminded me there’s more to life than a job title and made me feel optimistic.
I wasn’t looking for this new chapter. I coveted the page I was stuck on, petting the same old familiar lines that I’d re-read day in and day out for years.
But on the other side of that familiarity lay an adventure. I don’t know what happens next, I don’t know how this ends. But isn’t that the thrill of the journey?
I smile like a giddy little girl as I follow Jordan down the hall to his bedroom, viewing the man who takes the lead with my hand in his in a new light.
He was a mystery for years, the unknown. So what if he stays that way a little longer? He’ll tell me what he does, what his life entails when I need to know. Until then I can enjoy this fantasy a little while longer. I can imagine whatever the hell I please about the man and make the most of the mystique.
My handsome dark stranger.
My smile fades into a frown as we pass his bedroom, turning in to a second, more formal living room. He smiles over his shoulder, tugging me past plush armchairs that look more than suitable for our escapades, until we stop at a set of French doors.
“Where are we going?” The fact I’m dressed in only my bunched skirt and manhandled bra isn’t lost on me.
“Humor me.” He unlatches the door and pushes it open.
I’m immediately assailed with the sweet scent of roses. Perfectly trimmed bushes line a stone patio, the steps leading down to an expansive lawn with a lake in the background.
Holy hell. I knew by what area he lived in he was near the parkland. But I had no idea his property literally backed on to it. Wow.
“You want us to go out there? Half dressed?”
He gestures to the left as we move again. “The neighbors on this side are both lawyers, both at their office in the city.” He nods to the right. “Mrs. Adderson is as blind as they come, so the old girl wouldn’t know what was going on if she were to look right at us.”
“I feel so much better,” I sass.
The grass tickles my feet as we head across the lawn. I fix my bra and then keep my free arm to my chest to give myself some sort of modesty despite what he said. Jordan’s hold on me flexes, the excitement pulsing through his hand into mine.
He’s taking me to a boathouse.
“I’m not sure what you have planned,” I say as he navigates the debris from the trees above, “but I’d kind of hoped to finish what we started in the kitchen. I’m not much of a fisherman.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he lets go of my hand to pull the painted door open. “Get inside.”
This must be where he kills me. No wonder Chase told me to stay away. Stupid girl, Corinne.
“Okay?” I step on to the timber flooring, the surface decidedly cooler in here than outdoors. “Now what?”
I turn to ask if I should perhaps be dressed for this, when he cuts me short with an arm around my waist. I’m hauled against his hard front, his other hand splayed possessively across my mound as he forces my ass into his erection.
How the hell is he still so ready?
“I want to live out a little fantasy with you,” he whispers in my ear, lips skimming the shell. “You game?”
“You’re asking a lot of me today.”
“I’m about to ask more.” His fingers gather the fabric of my skirt until his heated touch meets my slick pussy.
Apparently I’m equally as ready to go, still.
“Your dress was powder blue,” he utters, lips brushing my neck as he pushes two fingers inside. “Short little skirt on it, and tiny little straps that showed all this gorgeous skin.” His teeth skate across my shoulder, leaving me with a little nip before he spins me around in his arms. “Your hair was straighter then.”
An obsession with the flat iron. Didn’t every young girl go through that stage? “You remember a lot.”
“I’ve replayed it often.”
“But?” I run my palms across his chest, delighting in the heat beneath my touch.
“But that’s where it always ended. That was all I ever got.” His lips capture mine, the kiss reverent as he takes his time before adding, “Before I added more myself, that is.”
Something about this seemingly guarded man telling me his deepest, darkest fantasy—one that involves me—is insanely hot. A thrill tickles low in my belly as his eyes glaze over, lost to the memory, made up or otherwise.
“I sat on your parents back lawn in those god awful plastic chairs, always a few feet from where you were.”
I never noticed.
“Watched as you took care of everyone at the party, made sure they all had drinks and food at the ready.”
I chuckle, my fingertips dancing across his strong shoulders. “I merely did as I was asked.”
“You could have said no,” he points out. “But you naturally care for others.”
“I did,” I correct. “I used to care far too much.”
Fixed that. Right about the time I told Aden he could take a hike.
Judging by the way Jordan studies me, he seems to sense I hide something more, something important. Yet he doesn’t press the issue. “You were gorgeous that afternoon. You still are. But the way the sunshine played up the highlights in your hair and warmed your skin; you glowed like an angel.”
“Terribly cliché, Jordan,” I tease with a tap of my finger to his lips.
He captures the digit and sucks it into his mouth.
If I had panties on they’d be soaked thanks to that heated stare of his.
“I planned it all out; what I’d do.” He walks forward, forcing me back until I hit the wall of the shed. “I’d butter you up with idle conversation, find out what made you tick, where your passions lay. And then”—he grins—“I’d use those things against you so that you’d feel comfortable enough not to question my invitation to somewhere more ‘quiet.’”
I lace my hands behind his neck, tipping my head with a smile. “Think I’m that gullible, do you?”
“Not at all.” His eyes narrow. “I know I’m that good, though.”
I guess he is. I’m here, aren’t I?
“What happens next then? Hypothetically, of course.”
Strong hands wrap around my waist, hoisting me high so that Jordan can step between my legs. I wrap them around his middle on instinct, his hard body holding me to the wall.
“The bits in between are hazy,” he cedes. “But the end was always the same.”
I cock an eyebrow in invitation.
“You, riding my cock, just like this. My mouth on your tits, one hand to your lips to keep you quiet while you came. Perfection.”
“Show it to me.”
He grins while he lines himself with my entrance, my hands shaking against his back with anticipation of the thrust. Yet, he chooses to tease me instead, circling my center with the tip of his thick erection until I literally beg him to end the suffering.
“Fuck me, Jordan. I need this. I need you right now.”
He shunts his hips at the same time as letting me drop down the wall, nothing but his body holding me from falling to the floor. I cry out with his fullness, with the burn of such a brutal entry, most of all with the relief of it all.
“You need me every day, baby. Admit it.”
I can’t. All I can think of is this moment, right here. I don’t want to muddy this connection with the troubles of the world. Not yet.
“Three months,” I utter as he sucks on my throat, one hand to my hip, the other palming my breast.
“Three months.” He tilts his head and claims me with a kiss, the intrusion of his tongue welcome. I need him inside of me in every way.
Why not when he’s already found a home in my heart?
The timber of the shed wall scratches at my skin, the pain a welcome contrast to the flutter that builds in my core. Our union is raw, filled with personal gain rather than care for the other, and yet I don’t think we could have it any other way.
We’re two people sure of what we want from this, and it’s no traditional romance.
It’s ours, and that alone is something infinitely more special than a thousand candlelit dinners or roses on our anniversary.
One look in his dark eyes as he brings me to the edge of orgasm and I know without a doubt I can get the single most important thing from him: respect. He’s not the kind to mold or bend me to his purpose, rather the kind to let me do my own thing as long as it was by his side. What could be more perfect? Companionship, love in whatever shape it came, and also independence.
“Three months,” I pant as the familiar buzz builds deep in my core.
“Three months,” he repeats, low and throaty as he jerks hard into me. “And you’ll wonder why you waited so long to find me again.”