“You have no idea how bad I want that,” Jordyn said, her voice barely above a whisper. She hated how breathy her voice was right now and wished she sounded more confident but there was no helping it. How the hell was she or any woman supposed to talk at full capacity with this kind of sexy right in front of her? She swallowed hard and watched as one of his hands moved to slide the collar of her jacket aside. He hooked a finger beneath her jacket, pushed it to her shoulder, and traced a finger along the now exposed strap of her bra.
She felt him hook his finger under the dainty material, tugging on it lightly, but she couldn’t look away from him. He leaned forward pressing his lips close to her ear. “You better be ready to hold on tight for the ride tonight.”
Jordyn wasn’t sure if he was talking about the motorcycle ride to her apartment or what would happen once they were behind closed doors, but she was eager to find out.
The midnight ride to Jordyn’s apartment passed by in a blur, mostly because her mind was going in a million directions at a million miles an hour. Anything more than pointing her mystery man in the right direction when they stopped at a light or came to an intersection was beyond her capabilities and before she knew it, she had survived her first motorcycle ride and was leading tall, dark, and sexy up to the stairs to her apartment.
Jordyn was nervous, very nervous, so much so that she fumbled and nearly dropped her keys trying to open her door until a large, strong hand closed over hers, steadying her hands.
“Is it this one?” He murmured against her ear, his hand warm and gentle over hers.
“No,” Jordyn breathed. She closed her eyes when she felt the warm puff of his breath against her neck.
Sexy Stranger slipped another key into her hand. “What about this one?” he asked.
Jordyn glanced down, seeing the right key, and gave a jerky nod because yes, that was her apartment door key, but no, she had no words to voice that. Sexy Stranger let out a satisfied sound and slid the key home.
“Ladies, first,” he said, gesturing for her to go in front of him when her apartment door swung open. She gave him a quick nod and moved forward on wooden legs, which wasn’t exactly how she had seen this going once she arrived at her place. She worried her bottom lip and forced herself to try to relax, or, at the very least, move with a tad more grace.
She wanted this. Wanted this man and every last sordid thing she was going to do with him within the privacy of her apartment. She turned in time to see the door swing shut and had a split second to think before she was pressed up against it, her sexy stranger smiling seductively down at her. His hands moved up her arms until they rested against her shoulders, fingers tensing against her before he yanked her leather jacket off with a move that was far too smooth to not be practiced. He tossed the jacket in the direction of the coat rack beside her door and she didn’t much care when her jacket hit the floor because his fingers were now sliding beneath the hem of her tank top.
“You have too many clothes on,” he said, leaning in and kissing the side of her neck. His nose brushed against her throat as he began to kiss a path along her throat. She gasped when he gave her a nip at the base of her throat. The noise pulled a chuckle out of him and she blushed. This was not the time to be scandalized, not when she was going all in on tonight, which was in her favor because a second later he had her shirt up and over her head with the same practiced movement as she’d lost her jacket. It joined her jacket in a heap, and this time, she didn’t gasp or blush. She leaned back against the door, shoulders going back to the cool wood, the movement lifting her breasts towards the man in front of her.
He let out an appreciative hum as his eyes moved over her. “Damn, baby.”
“Like what you see?” she asked, because if she was doing this, then she was doing this.
She didn’t wait for his answer, because she knew he did. She reached for him, and just like in the bar, he came towards her. When he was close enough, she pressed her mouth to his in a kiss that was more fumbling than not. She might be giving it her best shot, but she was nervous as hell. However, what Jordyn lacked in experience, she made up for in enthusiasm, which drew a pleased groan from the man in front of her. When they parted, Jordyn smiled when she saw he was breathing as hard as she was.
There was no doubt how much they wanted one another. This man was just as desperate for her as she was for him. The certainty of it was enough to give Jordyn the confidence she needed, no craved, from this night—from this man.
“I’ve been looking at this damn bra since I first saw you,” he told her, fingertips trailing over her lace-clad breasts. His touch was slow and lingering. This man was taking his time in how he touched her, as if he had all the time to explore her. He moved, trailing fingertips turning to full hands, his palms cupped her breasts, fingers digging into her skin in a greedy touch. Jordyn’s back arched, her breath hitching when his fingers tweaked a nipple, and gone was her plan to be an aggressive sex-participant.
She had little time to fuss at her lapse in sex participation, or in this case, foreplay, because the man beneath her hands had lowered his head until his lips were just above the swell of her breasts. He paused there, his breath warming Jordyn’s skin, and cautioned a look up at her.
“This still good for you?” he asked, his lips almost touching her, just the smallest amount of space between them. It would take so little for him to drop his head and kiss her, to taste her, but he waited for her. Jordyn knew if she told him no, said that she didn’t want any of this anymore, that he wouldn’t touch her again that night.
As it was, she did want this, badly, so she nodded at him, hair whipping back and forth at the sudden movement. “Yes, this is so good for me,” she breathed, arching her back, her hands going to his hair. She tugged on it, then, like she had wanted to, and brought his face close to her, pushing her breasts against his waiting mouth.
“Keep going,” she urged him. “Please.”
A grin pulled at his lip and his hands moved to cup her breasts, fingers cradling her flesh, his touch gentle. He tipped his head back, keeping his eyes on her face, and she felt the fire she’d discovered in herself that day set her ablaze when she realized one very important thing. He wanted her to watch him. Wanted her eyes locked with his when he kissed her and touched her. This man wanted to see her face while he did whatever it was he was going to do to her.
“Fuck,” she breathed, and he huffed out a laugh.
“Soon, sweetheart,” he told her, voice dropping an octave. She groaned, her fingers pulling again at his hair. He moved then, lowering his tongue to her skin, and kissing an agonizingly slow trail over the top of one breast before dipping down into her cleavage.
“You smell good,” he sighed, breathing deeply, his nose in the valley of her cleavage. His tongue dragged across her skin, the feel of it making her writhe against him, her body trapped between his warm body and the hard door at her back. There was nowhere to go, but even if there had been, she wouldn’t have gone a step in any direction that wasn’t into this man’s arms. When she felt his teeth nip her skin she had to remember to breathe and she did, blowing out the breath she hadn't been aware she’d been holding in. The effect was neither sexy nor endearing, but it was loud and...well, loud.Her gasping breath as she sucked in a gulp highly resembled a deflating balloon and she winced at the sound. She groaned, a hand going to cover her eyes when he chuckled at the sound.
Jordyn shook her head, cheeks flaming hotly, all pretense of the adventurous sex participant she wanted to be vanishing in the span of a loud oops-forgot-to-breathe moment.
“Sorry, I-” she began, scrambling to save face, but he made a noise in the back of his throat that interrupted her apology. The apology had come as a reflex from her time with Alex, from when she had worked to keep up appearances and played at perfection for attention, but the man kissing her was having none of it.
“Tonight isn’t for sorry,” he told her, pressing a kiss against her collarbone. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His nose was now trailing its way up the sensitive skin of her neck and making her head fall back with a thump against the door. God, she wanted him. Somehow, a man that didn’t know her, a man that she had picked up in a bar, had given her a sense of freedom and acceptance.
It was a gift she did not intend to squander. Not even a minute of it because he was right. Tonight was not for sorry. Tonight was about exploration, and not just in the physical sense of the word. This night was an exploration of herself, and it was long overdue.
Chapter Four
