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“Should I confess something to you?” I give her a little peck. “It’s a bit embarrassing.”
Jordan stiffens. “Will I be mad?”
“Only if you don’t want to be Instagram stalked.” My hand works its way under her sweater, my finger swiping across her taut stomach. “I know I alluded to it before, but I’ve sort of been following your life for the past few years. Well, what you shared of it.”
Her eyes search mine. “You’re for real?”
“Yeah.” I grip her hip as her leg slips in between mine. “You posted about your breakup one morning and I made an appointment as soon as the shop opened. I’d been saving that design for you to do but didn’t know what would happen if I just showed up. Of course I knew there’d be a wait but damn…you were booked out over a year in advance.” I shake my head. “So fucking frustrating.”
Jordan pokes my stomach. “Uh, you could have come in and been honest. The thing we did was weird. You’ve got to admit, both of us pretending we didn’t remember each other was torture…”
“…yet you didn’t fucking cave.” I stroke her hair, chuckling. “You had me at a loss for what to do. Or say. And you were already working on my piece, I sure didn’t want to do anything to piss you off until it was finished.”
“I’m stubborn.” She juts her chin out. “Deveraux trait. That being said, I’m a professional. I wouldn’t have left you high and dry.”
My lips hover over hers and the energy in the room turns from contemplative to charged. “Your stubbornness is sexy. I was hard as a rock every session.”
“Oh, I noticed.” She lowers her eyes and looks up at me through her lashes.
Our lips meet in a heated kiss, igniting a fire that’s been smoldering since we first laid eyes on each other in Vegas and continues all these years later. A culmination of all the emotions we’ve restrained, leading to this unexpected detour forcing us to spend the night on my boat.
Jordan’s lips are supple yet insistent, moving against mine with a fervor that matches my own. Her arms wrap around my neck, drawing me closer, deepening the kiss. I respond instinctively, gripping her ass and pulling her closer. Everything fades away as we lose ourselves in each other.
When we finally break apart, gasping for air, our foreheads rest against each other. Jordan’s eyes open and I see a reflection of my own emotions—wonder, excitement, maybe even a hint of vulnerability.
“Peter…what are you doing to me?” She moans when I cup her breast under her sweater. With my free hand, I tug her leg over mine and press my erection against the heat of her core.
“Making you feel good.” I grip the hem of her sweater and lift it over her bra. Her tits are as fantastic as I remember, full with taut brown nipples straining against sheer black lace.
Jordan rolls her hips against me, causing me to groan. Her fingers work the zipper down on my jeans. “We don’t need any of these clothes. I want to be skin on skin.”
The conversation about my tattoo makes me realize I need to embody the values it symbolizes. There can’t be any dishonesty between us. Though there are several things we need to discuss, before we're intimate I need to disclose what I know about her list. “Jordan, I want to be naked with you more than anything. But I also want to start this new chapter with a clean slate. There’s something else I need to tell you.”
“What do you mean?” Her expression of desire changes to a hint of wariness, as if she was already expecting the other shoe to drop and now it is.
Talk about a mood killer.
“I found your list.” I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “That day you had to take a call in the middle of our session. I saw it in your sketchbook. I wasn’t trying to snoop. To kill time, I wanted to see your drawings but there it was, and I… I looked.”
“You went through my personal things?” Jordan’s reaction is immediate. Her eyes flash with anger as she pulls away from me. “What a huge invasion of privacy.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t right but I was desperate to connect with you. I took a picture of it and thought maybe…I could give those things to you.” I sit up, trying to explain, realizing how disingenuous I sound.
She shakes her head in disbelief. “You took a picture to remember the places I fantasized about having sex? How I'd like to be fucked? What were you going to do with it… Wait! I can’t believe this. I’m so stupid. Just when I thought we were getting somewhere…we're stranded. Holy shit. You arranged for us to run out of fuel. Didn’t you?”
“No. Jordan, please, I didn’t—wouldn't—do such a thing.” I reach out, trying to bridge the physical and emotional distance between us. “Getting stuck tonight was absolutely not planned.”
She pulls away angrily, a clear sign she doesn’t believe me.
Grabbing a blanket, she wraps it around her small body and curls up in a ball facing away from me.
Shit.
Just when I’d made progress.
I’ve fucked up yet again.
Chapter fourteen
