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Jordan’s eyes closed on a wave of pleasure. When he couldn’t take anymore—knowing he was unbearably close—he tugged her up and stripped her underwear from her.
She lay back on the beige comforter covering his bed, her hair splayed around her.
Jordan fumbled with some protection from a nearby dresser drawer and then braced himself over her.
Holding her gaze as her legs came around him, he sheathed himself inside her, and they both sighed.
Jordan gritted his teeth. “You’re so damn hot and tight. So good.”
He began to move, and she met him stroke for stroke. Jordan closed his eyes, intent on drawing out the interlude. Within minutes, however, it was too much for both of them.
Sera lifted her hips and arched her back with her climax, and watching her glorious reaction, Jordan came apart himself, his hoarse groan a testament to reaching a new peak.
Afterward, he slumped against her and gathered her to him, and they were both content to let sleep claim them.
* * *
Sera reflected that the only word that could sum up the past week or so was idyllic. She and Jordan had snuck away to spend a weekend at a cozy bungalow he had on Cape Cod, taking a balloon ride over the wooded fields and overall enjoying living in their own new and kaleidoscopic little world.
Now as she and Jordan arrived hand in hand at a local movie theater near Welsdale, Sera found herself both content to enjoy the evening and bursting with plans for their burgeoning relationship. Jordan’s recovery was going so well, soon they’d be able to head to the boxing gym together. And in future outings to Cape Cod, they could water-ski, take a boat out on the water and even go parasailing. Jordan had dared her to try the last.
“Jordan, Jordan!”
The paparazzo came out of nowhere, camera flashing like a firearm. Sera bent her head down as she and Jordan headed toward the doors of the theater. So far, they’d been able to duck photographers despite his celebrity. Probably the fact that it was the off-season and he’d been convalescing helped.
Sera didn’t delude herself, however, that their honeymoon would last forever. Jordan was too well-known. And while they’d been able to keep their relationship under wraps until recently even from their families, this photographer meant she’d have to figure out fast how to deal with being outed. The fact that she and Jordan were holding hands was a giveaway that they were more than casual acquaintances.
As the photographer snapped away, he also jogged to catch up to them. “Any comment on the news report?”
“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Jordan tossed back.
“Are you denying that you’re the father of Lauren Zummen’s child?”
Sera stiffened and swung her gaze to Jordan, whose expression had turned grim.
“Anything you want to say?”
“Again, no.”
In the next moment, Jordan changed course and was hustling her back to his car—obviously trying to shake the paparazzo.
“No denial?” the photographer called out after them.
“How did you know where we were?” Jordan asked, not looking behind him.
“I have my sources.” The paparazzo sounded cheery.
Stunned, Sera silently followed Jordan. Suddenly, what their families might think of their relationship was the least of her problems. And her concern about the stupid bet he’d made with his teammates seemed laughable in comparison.
They both said nothing as they got into the car and Jordan pulled away from the curb, leaving their pursuer far behind them. Obviously, a night out couldn’t happen now. They’d be sitting ducks for more unwanted attention.
Sera felt a roaring in her ears. Finally, she forced herself to say, “Do you know what he was talking about?”
She could tell from Jordan’s face that he had
some inkling at least—and he’d chosen to say nothing to her about it.
“There are rumors...”
