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“No. We shouldn’t. This was a mistake and it won’t happen again,” he snaps. “And you shouldn’t mention it to anybody. Ever. Do you understand me, Jordan?”
“Director Ballard—”
“I said, do you understand me?”
I hesitate for a moment but nod. I get it. What just happened between us has the potential to be a real can of worms for him. All he needed to do though, was ask me. I’m not the sort of person who kisses and tells. What happened between us is for us—and us alone.
“I understand,” I say.
“Good.”
And then he is gone. Still sitting at the table, wrapped in the warm tendrils of my ecstasy, I look at the door and shudder pleasantly as I recall the feel of his mouth on me. The fact that he bolted out of her so suddenly cast a slight pall over what had been a wonderful start to the day, but it couldn’t wipe out the good energy filling my body completely.
Slipping off the table, I get myself dressed and ready for breakfast. I run my fingers through my hair, doing my best to tame the curls before pulling it back into a ponytail. As I do, a smile touches my lips as I recall the way Director Ballard looked at me and a shudder of pure delight runs from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and everywhere in between.
He may protest and say this was a mistake. He may try to convince me—and even himself—that this won’t happen again. I have no doubt he means it when he says that nothing like this can happen between us again and I know he’s worried about the appearance of impropriety. I know he’s worried about opening himself up to a lawsuit by having an illicit affair with a guest. I know he doesn’t want to do the wrong thing and that the best thing he can do is tell me that this isn’t something that can or will be repeated.
I know better though.
I may not be very experienced when it comes to men but that sultry little glimmer in his eye is enough to tell me it’s going to happen again. That this is just the start of things between us. What’s more, as I revel in the delicious warmth of the orgasm he gave me, I know that I want even more from him. A lot more.
And I aim to get it.
7
Iate breakfast quickly and then scurried out of the mess hall, wanting to put as much distance between myself and Jordan as possible. After what happened in the isolation cabin, I can see that it’s dangerous for me to be in the same room with her since I obviously can’t control my impulses. There’s just something about her that makes me unable to curb my desire. I want her and I can’t keep myself from acting on that. That’s why it’s for the best that stay away from her.
As I walk across the compound though, my thoughts drift back to this morning. I can still smell and taste her and just the memory of it stokes the flames of desire in me all over again. She was so soft and so warm, her juices so sweet. I can practically still taste her on my lips and hear the moans that flowed from her mouth as I went down on her. Just thinking about it sets my insides aflame and makes my cock stiffen.
And that’s why it’s best that I stay away from her. I’m already possibly in a world of shit for handling the frat boys. That is if they say something. It’s possible they might not since they’d potentially be putting themselves in the crosshairs for an attempted rape. But they’re not the smartest guys around and might want to make my life difficult and I’m sure they’ve got mommies and daddies who will pony up for the best lawyers around. I don’t doubt I’d prevail in any court case. But it’d make my life a lot more complicated than I want it to be.
Having sexual relations with a guest under my care at the camp though is an entirely different can of worms. We’re both adults and everything that happened was consensual, so I’m not worried about any sort of legal blowback. But reputationally, if it got out that I was fucking the young women under my care and protection, I’m not sure that’s a scandal Forward Path would recover from. It would destroy my father’s legacy and everything he built to honor his sister. There would be no coming back from that.
That’s something I just can’t countenance. At the same time though, Jordan Hyde is like a drug to me. The taste of her was intoxicating and I want more. I can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t stop wanting her. I’ve never had this sort of powerful, visceral reaction to a woman before and it’s well beyond disconcerting. I want her. More than I’ve ever wanted anybody. I want to claim and possess every single part of her. Aside from her literally being half my age, I don’t know a goddamn thing about her, which makes this reaction to her all the more perplexing to me. All I know is that there’s something about her that triggers something primal in me.
I come around the corner of some supply cabins when I stop in my tracks. Jordan is standing beneath one of the tall pines with one of the other guests. When I see them talking and laughing with one another, I feel every muscle in my body tense and my hands ball into fists. My eyes narrow and my jaw clenches. The anger within me rises like a dark, malevolent tide and is all unconscious reflex. It’s like breathing. Or blinking. I hate seeing her talking to the boy. I hate it on a deep, visceral level. And it’s all part of that inexplicable feeling Jordan inspires within me.
With a low growl, I march across the compound and stop a few feet in front of Jordan. Her eyes widen and she swallows hard as her cheeks flush. There’s a look of longing and desire in her eyes but it’s guarded and tinged with fear. I turn to the boy she’s talking to, Gabriel Benson, a kid who is court-ordered to be here to kick a heroin habit.
“Get out of here, Benson. You know you’re not supposed to be fraternizing,” I growl.
“I’m not fraternizing—we’re just talking,” he argues.
I glare at him. “What the fuck do you think fraternizing means?” I snap. "Get out of here. Go report to Mr. Watkins and tell him I want you to clean the latrines. If I find out you didn't do it, you're going to be in deep shit.”
“But—”
“Go,” I say, my voice low and tight. “Now!”
Benson squeaks and nearly trips over his own feet as he turns and bolts away. When I turn back to Jordan, I see that she’s got a sultry, flirty little smile on her lips, and it sends a wave of lust through me. I shift on my feet, trying to keep my cock from stiffening as I focus on those full, red lips and think about how they’d feel on me.
“You know better than to be alone with somebody fraternizing like that,” I say.
She arches an eyebrow, that smile not fading. “Yeah, you just never know when somebody’s going to throw you on a table and go down on you, huh?”
In a certain context, that could be construed as a threat. But Jordan’s voice is playful. Flirty. I can’t but hear the notes of insecurity and fear mixed in with it though. She’s trying to sound more confident than she feels. Underneath that mélange of emotions though, is something more. There’s a longing in her voice that’s unmistakable. It’s filled with desire. It’s filled with need. I recognize it because it’s exactly how I feel and as they say, we can smell our own.
“I have to go,” I say. “Stay away from the boys.”
