TWELVE
Jordan
“I need to make a few calls.”
Corinne already looks at home, wandering through the house with only a towel to her luscious body. I didn’t think too much on the after when the boathouse sprung to mind, rather on the task at hand. The sprint back to the main house with my cum trailing down Corinne’s legs … kind of made me want to fuck her again.
Never thought I’d say it, but seeing my mark on a woman like that? Better than any pearl necklace I gave a willing partner in college.
Next step: keep it in her.
The depth of my obsession with this woman terrifies the calculated and controlled side of me. But I can’t deny that I see it all when I look at her. Those hips were made to bear children, and I can’t think of anything more satisfying that children to complete our lives together.
Am I getting a little ahead of myself? Perhaps. But a man can’t be faulted for planning for the future.
I never said I wanted rug-rats now. Hell no. That peach that peeks out from under the towel as she retrieves her phone wants a hell of a lot more alone time with my dick before I introduce that kind of distraction into our lives.
“Who are you calling?” I lean back into the sofa, arms spread over the back, dressed in only my slacks.
Didn’t see the point in putting a shirt back on when I’m in my own home. Especially when I caught Corinne stealing looks at me when she thought I was distracted.
“My friend, Sarah. You met her at the bar last weekend. We work together.” She pauses, taking a deep breath before correcting, “Worked together.”
“Stay here while you talk to her.”
Corinne frowns, her thumb poised over the screen. “Why?”
“Because I asked you to.” Because as much as I want to immerse myself in you, I still don’t trust you.
She doesn’t respond. Simply narrows her eyes a little further before connecting the call. “Hey, babe.” Corinne’s gaze holds mine as she drops her ass to the sofa opposite mine. “I’ve got news … Good and bad … Yeah, it’s true.” I can hear her friend babbling on the other end of the line from where I sit. “I don’t know. I just …” She sighs, rubbing her free hand along her thigh. “I wanted to.” Her gaze follows her hand, yet I catch the flush of pink to her cheeks before she ducks her chin to her chest. “Who do you think it was?” She mumbles the question, seemingly embarrassed to be discussing this in front of me.
Clearly, her friend holds some control over Corinne’s thoughts and feelings. She values this Sarah’s opinion. I’m not sure if I appreciate the potential competition.
“I’m fine, really,” she urges, fingers dancing over her flesh.
I slide from the sofa to my knees and cross the floor to her.
Brilliant blue eyes lift to find mine while she hums assent to whatever her friend says.
I slide my palms up the outside of her thighs, under the towel, and find the swell of her ass. Corinne captures her bottom lip between her teeth when I grab a handful and squeeze, reminding her who’s she is now.
Three months. It may have been a verbal contract, but it was one nonetheless.
“Look, I’ll call you tomorrow once I’m settled—” She stops abruptly, realizing her error. “Don’t judge me, but I’m going to have a vacation with Jordan.”
I rise up and lean over her legs to place a kiss to the swell of her breasts, pressed against the towel. Hearing her say my name, the way it fell so effortlessly from her lips as though we’ve been together for months already … I like that.
“Three months?” She’s nervous, worried about Sarah’s opinion.
Going by the tirade of words I can hear coming down the line, her pal doesn’t think our tryst is a good idea.
Fuck that.
I reach up and take the phone from Corinne, cutting her friend off mid-sentence before I toss the device aside. “You don’t need that bullshit.”
“She’s worried about me, Jordan.” Corinne forces her arms between us to cross them defiantly over her chest.
Only succeeds in pulling my focus back to her fuckable tits.
“She’s basing her judgment of your situation off of what she would do in your place.”
“Isn’t that how you use gut instinct when it comes to others?”
“It’s how you use prejudice against things you don’t understand.” I steal a kiss to shut her the hell up. I’m not here to debate whether Debbie-Do-Gooder is right or not. I’m here to remind Corinne why three months won’t be long enough. “Dinner tonight.”
“What about it?” Her tone softens, her arms relaxing.
“We’re eating out.” I brace my hands either side of her hips and place a kiss to her forehead. “Nothing would turn me on more than the look on other men’s faces when they realize they can’t have you.”
Corinne smirks, the devil in her eyes as she glances up at me from beneath her lashes. “Are you the jealous type, Jordan? Oh my.”
“Terribly so.”
“Hmm.” She likes the idea as much as I do. “Is this one of your games?”
“Perhaps.”
I wonder if in time she’d be open to a public fuck to claim her? Goddamn the thought alone makes my dick hard …
“Tell me,” I growl. “What are your hard limits?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”
I release her breasts from the restriction of the towel, and then palm them both, testing the weight. God, everything about her is perfect. “How private are you?”
I’d hazard a guess as not too much so, considering she got fired for fucking me in the break room.
“You want to share me?” She frowns.
Now there’s an idea. Might work, if it was another woman in the mix. I’d kill the man who even wet his dick looking at her.
“I want to show you off.”
“At dinner?” She seems dubious. I don’t blame her.
“Get dressed.” I pull away and stand, adjusting the bulge in my slacks. “We’re going to your place to pick up what you need, and while we’re there, I’ll decide if you have anything suitable to wear to dinner.”
“You’ll decide?” she challenges, unmoving.
The smirk on her face pulls a smile from me. “I have no doubt that whatever you choose will look nice, Corinne, but I want you to look more than nice. I want you downright fuckable. I want every man in the place wishing he knew the feel of your curves beneath his hands, and every woman wishing she had them.”
“And you’re sure I’m okay with this vulgar show of ego?”
Not entirely, but, “If you weren’t comfortable with the body you’re blessed with, then you wouldn’t be here right now. Would you?”
No woman in the middle of a confidence crisis would have strutted her ass over to the man who put her sex-life on the table for public discussion. No woman in her right mind. Only one who’s quietly confident would have taken such a hit to the ego and turned it into a compliment.
Because that’s what this whole goddamn scenario is: a compliment.
Corinne is a strong, attractive woman.
A woman who knows what she requires, and how to get it.
One who unashamedly took what she needed, when she needed it.
And that she chose to take it from an equally strong, intimidating man such as me? Well, that is fucking sexy as hell.
“Can I at least borrow a shirt?” she says with a quirk of her eyebrow. “You kind of destroyed my blouse.”
“Of course.” I offer her my hand. “Come. I think we could have a little more fun while you change, don’t you?”
“I have no doubt.” She takes the offered assistance and pulls herself to stand. “But you do want to make dinner on time, right?”
She has a point … “Rain check, then.” I have ideas on how her legs can brace the sides of my bathtub …
“I’ll hold you to it.”