Table of Contents 7 страница

Yeah, I understand that.

He turned back to focus on the truck, and we lapsed into almost comfortable silence.

By the time he finished it was late afternoon, and my stomach was rumbling, demanding food.

“I’ve got an idea,” I announced.

“Another one?” he said, without looking up.

I smiled at his tone. I liked it when he sassed me back.

“Some people have more than one a year,” I replied. “I’m a rare breed that sometimes has ideas frequently.”

“Do tell. Let’s hear this famous idea of yours.”

“We’ll go back to my place. I’ll pack us up a picnic and we can take your big ole truck and find somewhere off-road to chill out by the shore.”

“Chill out?”

“You remember chilling out? They invented it in the sixties.”

He looked over his shoulder at me. “I should really do some work on your momma’s backyard.”

“Ach, leave that! It’ll still be there tomorrow. Let’s go for a swim.”

He smiled. “You know, that sounds great!”

“I knew you’d like my idea. I have lots of good ones.”

He held up his hands. “Not gonna disagree with you. I wouldn’t dare!”

Before I left, I insisted that he splash some paint over the word ‘murderer’. It was an ugly scar and I didn’t want to have to see it again.

“Okay, pick me up in about 20 minutes!”

I raced home and threw together a picnic: cold chicken, some leftover salad, and an apple pie that I’d made the night before. Then I added a couple of sodas and a bottle of water—good enough.

I dashed up to pull my bikini out of the closet, and stuffed it into my purse. No skinny dipping today—not that I would have minded, but I didn’t think it would be fair to Jordan.

I was just about ready when I heard his truck pull up.

I staggered out of the house, carrying the enormous picnic basket. Jordan immediately leapt out of his truck and took it from my hands. Aw, he was so sweet. And wow, he smelled really good. He’d obviously taken the time to shower, unlike me.

“So, where should we go? You know this area better than I do. What’s a good place for a swim?”

“I know the perfect spot,” he said, with a smile.

I waited. “And? Is it a secret?”

“Yep,” he said, a smug look on his face.

“Oh, very funny, Mr. Tit for Tat.”

He shrugged. “I reckon what’s good for the goose should be good for the gander, darlin’.” And then he winked.

I loved seeing this playful side of him slowly emerge.

“Go west, young man, go west.”

I got a full-on smirk for that, and another tantalizing glimpse of the cocky teenager he’d once been.

The truck radio was tuned to a local indie station, and I sang along as he drove.

After about four songs he turned to me with an amazed expression.

“You know the lyrics for all of these songs!”

“Well, yeah. I like listening to music. It’s a very economical way of conveying emotion, don’t you think?”

“Um, I guess. I never really thought about it.”

“Besides, I like visiting new places by myself. I listen to music while I drive. It’s no great mystery.”

“Is that why you’re in Texas?”

“Kind of. I needed to earn some traveling money and I needed somewhere to stay while I earned it. So I thought I’d come see Mom.”

“You’re not close with her?”

I sucked a thumbnail, considering my answer.

“We weren’t. But I think it’s good that we’ve spent time together this summer. I haven’t really seen her that much since I was 13, and not at all since I turned 18. So, yeah, it’s good … you know, getting to know her now that I’m an adult.”

He shook his head, a grave expression on his face. “Cain’t say I know what that’s like.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I didn’t think it was the time or place to ask. Besides, it was a lovely day; I didn’t want to sour the mood.

We drove in silence for several minutes before he grunted that we were nearly there.

He pulled off the road and drove over sand dunes for nearly a mile before stopping right on the water’s edge, the bright blue ocean stretching out toward the sharp horizon.

“Not bad,” I said, smiling at him. “This place is beautiful.” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

I realized immediately that I’d stepped over the invisible boundary that I’d been trying to keep in place. His eyes closed and he slowly strangled the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white with the strain.

As for me, my lips tingled from the contact with the scruff on his cheek, and my body burned for him.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the passenger door and jumped out. Jordan was a couple of seconds behind me, carrying the picnic basket and the blanket that he’d borrowed from my car. He insisted on carrying both as we settled just a few yards from where the ocean lapped languidly at our feet.

The shadows were beginning to lengthen already, and I was disappointed that we’d left too late to go swimming. I’d been looking forward to washing away the day’s heat and dirt with a cooling swim.

I spread out the blanket and sat with my legs crossed, Indian style.

“God, I’m so hungry! You’d better dig in, cowboy, or I’ll eat everything in sight!”

He nodded, but still looked distracted. So I threw a chicken wing at him, which he caught easily, bringing him back to the present.

He took a large bite.

“This is real good, Torrey,” he said, continuing to gnaw hungrily at the meat.

“I know. I’m the perfect woman: I can cook and I drive a cool car.”

“You are,” he said, quietly. “You’re perfect.”

His mood was serious as I looked over at him in surprise.

“Um, thanks. I was joking actually. I’m a complete bitch most of the time and have gazillions of annoying habits.”

“I wasn’t jokin’,” he said, holding my gaze. “I’m just so fuckin’ grateful that you’re here.” He took a deep breath. “And I really want to kiss you right now.”

 

 

Torrey

 

Knowing it was probably a huge mistake, I reached out and cupped his cheek with the palm of my hand.

“I’d really like to kiss you, too.”

Which should have been his cue for diving on me. Instead, he sat staring at the sand covering his bare feet.

“It’s okay,” I said quietly, trying to reassure him. “I like that you said it to me. You don’t have to do anything right now. I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighed and leaned into my hand.

Tentatively he reached out and brushed gentle fingers over my hair. Then he inclined his body forward and kissed me, his lips merely whispering next to mine.

I moved my hand to the back of his head and pulled him closer, pressing my mouth firmly against his. He moaned softly, the hitch in his breath telling me how much this was affecting him.

I coaxed his lips to open and licked his bottom lip, then tugged it gently with my teeth. A sound like a whimper slipped from him, and I could tell it was taking all his strength to hold back from attacking my mouth with his own.

Cautiously, I dipped my tongue into his mouth and felt his hesitant response as he stroked against me. He became bolder, deepening the kiss and pulling me with him as he lay down on the blanket. Then he twisted so he was above me, his body pressing into mine.

I ran my hands under his t-shirt, feeling the defined muscles of his back and shoulders under my fingers, something I’d wanted to do since the first day I saw him. I pulled the soft material up his body and he paused long enough to allow me to tear it over his head.

I hadn’t come to the beach with any expectation of having sex with Jordan. I mean, yeah, I’d imagined it a lot, but I just hadn’t thought we’d get there so quickly—if ever.

I leaned up on my elbow and took a moment to appreciate the beautiful artwork of his tattoos coiling around his arms and shoulders.

Then I noticed a long scar at the base of his ribs.

“What’s this from?”

He stiffened, his hands freezing on my waist.

“Knife fight,” he said, at last.

I stroked the scar with my forefinger then leaned across to plant a gentle kiss on it.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “You don’t know what it means to me when you do things like that. You’re just so…”

“So what?”

He thought for a moment then nodded slightly when he found the right word.

“So acceptin’.”

I considered his choice of word. Was I accepting? I wasn’t so sure. Most people thought I was an argumentative and contrary bitch, but if he wanted to think good things about me that way, I wasn’t going to argue with him.

“You have scars on your knuckles, too,” I said. “They stand out against your tan.”

He spread his fingers out on my arm, gazing at the evidence of past fights as if he’d never noticed them before.

I shifted onto my back, pulling him on top of me again. His fascination with his hands disappeared instantly.

Then he was kissing my neck, nudging my shirt from my shoulder to find the bare skin beneath. I could feel how much he wanted me, but was he ready?

“Are we going to do this?” I said.

He hesitated and then lifted his head slowly to look at me.

“Do what?”

“Well, we’re kind of in a compromising position here, and although I’d be interested in taking it all the way, I don’t want to push you to do something you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I want to,” he said, adamantly. “Fuck, I want to.”

He kissed me harder and I felt his want and need in the way he touched me. I could tell it was almost overwhelming for him.

“You’re trembling.”

Jordan stopped kissing me and flopped onto his back. Not the reaction I’d intended at all.

“It … it’s been a while,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “I know I’m not gonna … last.”

I leaned up on one elbow and ran my fingers lightly down his chest and stomach, watching his body shiver under my touch, his erection showcased through his jeans.

“Then we’ll just have to go again as soon as you’re ready.”

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse.”

“Let’s find out,” I replied, my hands busy with his zipper.

I heard his breath catch in his throat as I pulled his dick out of his pants. It was large and long and well mannered, standing upright to greet me. It looked as good as I’d imagined and I couldn’t help licking my lips.

His hard stomach contracted and quivered as I stroked him a couple of times; his breath was shallow and his heart was racing.

“Shit,” he whispered, and I wasn’t sure whether or not I was supposed to hear him.

I placed my lips over his tip, reveling in the clean, musky man-smell emanating from him. He had no idea how heavenly he looked, lying there under the dusky sky, waiting for me.

I sucked gently, and his hips thrust roughly into my mouth.

“Sorry,” he gasped. “Sorry!”

I smiled around him and started licking and sucking in earnest.

He was right—he didn’t last long.

Within seconds he was thrusting into my mouth, and I felt his hands tugging on my hair trying to lift me from him.

“I’m gonna come … I’m gonna…”

I appreciated the warning, but I had no intention of letting him go. I wanted this first time to be special for him.

He shuddered into my mouth for what seemed like forever. I thought I was going to run out of swallow before he’d finished, but finally he was done and I could sit up.

His eyes were still closed and his chest was heaving, his hands clutching the blanket on either side of him.

I lay back next to him and his arm curled around me, pulling me into his chest.

“Holy fuck!” he said.

“Well, not quite, but maybe next time. Although as I am a preacher’s daughter, I guess it’s close enough.”

“You’re an angel,” he said, softly. “My guardian angel.”

“If I’m an angel, we’re in more trouble than we thought,” I said, wiping my chin on his bare chest.

He laughed, a deep gravelly sound. I realized I’d never heard him fully laugh before. It was a good, good sound.

“Maybe we’ll both have to be bad together,” he whispered against my hair.

“Works for me,” I said.

He pulled me in tighter, and I felt him place a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

“What’s the matter?” I said, challengingly. “Don’t want to kiss my mouth now that you’ve come in it?”

I could see by the way his body froze that he was surprised. Maybe even shocked.

“Is that what you think? God, no! I could kiss you for hours. I think I’d be happy just doin’ that.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

“Really?”

“Hell, yeah! You’ve got the most gorgeous lips I’ve ever seen. I lov… kissin’ them is incredible.”

“Prove it.”

He moved so quickly, I didn’t know what was happening until he was lying on top of me, his body weighted over mine, his lips brushing against my mouth.

The contrast of his hard body and soft lips was driving me insane.

He kissed my chest, my neck, my cheeks, my eyelids, even the tip of my nose. Then he teased my lips with his tongue until I grabbed his hair and pulled him closer. Our tongues tangled together and then he began this amazingly sensuous stroking, full of sensation and passion. I was so turned on, I thought I might come just from him kissing me. That had never happened before.

“Beautiful woman, I want to make love to you,” he said, huskily. “God, I want you so bad right now.”

True to his word, I felt his hard cock digging into my hip.

“Wow, that was quick,” I commented, reaching down to stroke him.

“One of the benefits of it being a while,” he answered, in between kisses. “The only benefit.”

He pushed my t-shirt up over my breasts and tugged it off, then ran the tip of his tongue along the lace edge of my bra.

“So beautiful,” he murmured.

“Only because you’ve got nothing to compare them to,” I laughed.

“Hey, that’s not true! I had game in my day, and I can tell you that your breasts are sen-fuckin’-sational. I think this bra should come off.”

“Can you remember how to do that?” I laughed at him.

He cocked an eyebrow and gave me a slow, devilish smile. “I think it’ll come back to me.”

He slid his arm under my waist and pulled me up sharply, then reached around behind with his free arm and tugged at the elastic.

“Damn,” he said, after fighting with it for a few seconds. “Where’s the freakin’ clasp?”

I couldn’t help laughing. “It’s a sports bra, genius. There is no clasp.”

“Fuck! I really thought I’d lost my touch there for a moment. You’re pure evil, woman.”

I sat up and raised my arms over my head. “Now see if you can take it off.”

With surprisingly gentle fingers, given how obviously aroused he was, he pulled the bra up my body and slid it over my arms and hands.

Then he lowered me back to the blanket and began to worship my breasts. It was the only way to describe how he kissed every inch of skin, pressing his soft lips into my flesh, and teasing my deliciously hard nipples with his tongue.

When he nipped gently with his teeth, a long breathy moan flew out of my mouth.

“You like that, Torrey?”

“God, yes! Keep doing that!”

I reached up to stroke his hair and wound my fingers into the shaggy curls at the nape of his neck.

I swear, the man purred. Just like a big old lion stretched out in the sun.

When I dragged my short fingernails down his back, his neck arched away from me and his eyes were tightly closed.

“God! Every time you touch me I think it cain’t get any better, and then it just does,” he muttered.

I pushed his jeans over the curve of his butt, and used my heels to push the denim down to his knees.

“Take them off,” I insisted. “I want you naked.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he said with a laugh, kicking his legs free.

His beautiful, bare body loomed over me and a shiver of anticipation shot through every nerve. This man was damn fine.

“I think you should be naked, too,” he said, nuzzling my neck with his nose, his hands traveling across my breasts, lightly twisting the nipples.

“Go for it,” I said, encouragingly.

Within a few seconds, he’d wrestled my jean shorts off of my hips, and I saw his jaw drop open.

“No panties!” he hissed. “God, woman! I swear you’re gonna kill me stone dead.”

“Well, if that’s the case, hurry up and fuck me first!”

He groaned loudly and started making a trail of scorching kisses between my breasts and down to my stomach.

“Christ, you smell good,” he said, his head dipping lower. “Can I give you some good ole southern lovin’?”

“Maybe another time,” I said, a little impatiently. “Right now I want to feel that big cock of yours inside me.”

“Fuck!” he whispered.

“That’s the general idea,” I said. “While we’re still young.”

Suddenly, he rolled onto his back, the palms of his hands pressing into his eyes.

“What?”

“I haven’t got any fuckin’ rubbers!” he cried, furiously. “I never thought … I mean, I didn’t…”

“Oh, don’t be such a dumbass,” I said, pushing his shoulder. “Did you really think I’d come out for a ride in a hot guy’s truck without a stash of condoms? You’ve sure lost your game, Big Boy.”

He rolled onto his side. “You think I’m hot?”

“Hell, yes! Now stop teasing me and get sheathed up.”

I dragged my shorts toward me and fumbled around to find the strip of condoms that I’d stashed earlier.

“We’ve got three,” I said, throwing them to him. “Go crazy.”

His eyes glittered with lust and determination. I’d say the man liked a challenge.

He tore the packet with his teeth, a move that looked cheesy on some guys, but totally suited him.

“Don’t lose the spares,” I warned him.

“No freakin’ way,” he said, his voice tight. “I have every intention of fuckin’ you to a standstill, you and that pretty mouth of yours.”

“Many have tried.”

His frantic hands stilled.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Torrey.”

“Stuff like what?”

“About … the number of guys you’ve fucked.”

“Why not? I like guys; I like sex. I’m not ashamed of it. Am I supposed to pretend like I’m a virgin or something? It’s okay for guys to behave like dogs, and you just get a pat on the back. But when a woman does it…”

“That’s not what I meant!” he groaned.

“Then what the fuck did you mean?” I snapped, starting to feel pissed.

“I just don’t want you thinkin’ about any other guy when you’re with me. I want you with me —all of you. It’s not just fuckin’. Not for me, not with you. I know you think it’s because I haven’t slept with a woman in a long time, but it’s not. It’s because it’s you, and I meant it when I said I wanted to make love to you.”

I was stunned by his little speech.

“Let me make love to you, Torrey Delaney,” he said, his voice tender and almost pleading.

I nodded wordlessly, and immediately his lips were on mine, soft and forceful, urgent and compliant.

His hands stroked up my body and teased my breasts, his thumbs rubbing soft circles over my nipples.

I could feel his cock pressing against my thigh now, softly massaging it as he kissed up and down my body. Then one hand slid between my legs and he rubbed gently against my clit.

“Damn, you feel good, sweetheart. I cain’t wait to be inside you.”

“Then do it!”

“So impatient,” he said, a smile against my skin. “I’ve waited eight years, I’m not gonna rush this now.”

I ceded control and decided to let him go at his own pace. It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to be. Besides, it had been a while since a guy had taken his time with me. I was usually in a hurry and not looking for anything more than a quick pick-me-up, so to speak.

But if Jordan Kane wanted to take his own sweet time, who was I to argue?

He slid one of his long fingers inside me, showing me whatever else he’d gone without over the last few years, he hadn’t forgotten how to touch a woman.

I was a quivering mess of melted jelly within seconds. Those were some talented fingers that he had. No wonder he was so amazing at fine-tuning an engine. Damn!

Soon, I was beyond rational thought, my body moving to his every touch like a puppet as he worked the strings, pulling sensation after sensation from me.

Just as he’d brought me to the brink, and my whole body was pulsing with desire, he pulled his fingers out. I was about ready to tear him a new one when I felt the incredible fullness of Jordan pushing his body inside mine.

He moaned softly and stilled a second when he was fully sheathed by my body, obviously trying to catch his breath and avoid blowing his load.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back,” he gasped. “Fuck, I’m so close already!”

“Then don’t. Don’t hold back,” I whispered, my nails digging into his back. “I want it hard. I want to feel every part of you now. I want to feel you come inside me.”

It was as if my words had released him, broken through some mental barrier that he’d built up, because he did exactly what I said. His hips rose and fell rapidly as he pounded into me, forcing me higher and higher up the blanket.

He reared up, taking his full weight on his forearms and the change of angle sent me wild, his pubic bone slamming roughly against my already sensitive clit.

I fell so hard I saw stars. Then I remembered we were outside and it was evening; I could still see stars when I opened my eyes again.

Jordan yelled out my name as he came. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard.

I’d heard guys yell a lot of things when they came—mostly other girls’ names, and one guy shouted, “mother” which I found deeply disturbing—but Jordan was perfect.

His biceps trembled, and I pulled him down so my breasts squished from the weight of his chest crushing mine.

His breath roared in my ear as he fought to get his breathing under control.

After a long moment, I felt his hand drift down to where we were still connected, and he carefully pulled out.

He snapped off the used condom and tied a knot in the end. It reminded me of tying a knot in the end of party balloons and the thought made me giggle.

“What?” he asked, turning to look at me, doubt clouding his soft brown eyes.

“Oh, nothing much. Just feeling good.”

“What were you laughin’ about?” he insisted.

“Don’t go getting all performance-oriented on me. I was just thinking that condoms remind me of party balloons, that’s all.”

“Really?” he said, his face creased with worry. “Because I wouldn’t blame you. I know that was damn pitiful. I know I can do better than that and…”

I leaned up on my elbow to look him in the eyes so he’d know I meant what I said.

“Stop worrying! That was amazing. In case you’re wondering, that whole yelling and thrashing around thing, that was me having a freakin’ amazing orgasm.”

He still looked worried. “You’re not just sayin’ that?”

“Jeez, Jordan! No! Have I ever said anything just to make you feel better?”

He chewed his lip while he thought about that. “I guess not.”

“Well, you guess right. I don’t go around telling lies, even little white lies just to make people feel better. And if a guy is a two pump chump, I tell it like it is. You have nothing to worry about. On the other hand…”

“On the other hand what?” His voice was tentative.

“I’m looking forward to getting in a whole shit load more practice with you. You’ve got eight years to make up for. What do you say?”

His grin could have lit up Vegas.

“I say you’re a very wise woman, and I’m damn lucky to have met you.”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a smile.

“I thought I was the one gettin’ it?”

“Don’t be such a guy,” I said, pushing his shoulder. “I got laid good—I’m a happy camper.”

We lay together and he pulled me against him, his warm and solid body close beside me.

I rested my arm on his stomach, idly tugging at the few hairs that grew up from his belly.

“How come you’ve got all these tats?” I asked. “I’ve been wondering about them. Unless you had them when you were 16, you must have gotten inked in prison.”

His fingers that had been drifting up and down my arm, stilled.

“You’re the only one who ever says that.”

“Says what?”

“About prison. Everyone else is just embarrassed and don’t know what to say. The ones who speak to me, anyway. But you—you just say it.”

“Do you mind?”

“God, no. It’s a relief in a way. I mean, it happened and I cain’t change it. But pretendin’ like it didn’t—and that I’m normal like everyone else—it gets so damn wearisome.”

I took a deep breath.

“Jordan, do you think you could tell me now? What happened to Mikey? To you?”

He shot me a panicked look.

“Torrey, I…”

“You know you can trust me. I’m not going to judge you.”

“You will,” he said, heavily. “Of course you will. And I won’t blame you when you do.”

His eyes were pleading with me.

I sighed and looked away. We lay there for several minutes, not speaking, the air growing cooler.

Eventually, I sat up and started pulling my clothes toward me. Without saying anything, I passed Jordan his t-shirt and jeans.

Guess I was good enough to fuck, but not for him to share anything important with.

We dressed in silence and I started to stand, when suddenly, I felt his hand on mine.

“I was 16,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

I turned to stare at him, but his gaze was fixed on the sand at the edge of the blanket.

“We’d celebrated Mikey’s eighteenth birthday with our parents the week before. That was … nice, but kinda tame.”

Oh my God! He’s really talking to me. He’s going to tell me…

“Ryan, our buddy, he wanted to have a kegger while his folks were away. And … I said I’d drive so Mikey could have a drink. When we got to Ry’s, the place was jumpin’, cars everywhere, people drinkin’ and dancin’, kids makin’ out all over the place. You know, ordinary stuff.

“Mikey hooked up with this girl Sonia that he saw sometimes. I went lookin’ for Allison. When I found her, she was already pretty tanked. Seein’ as Ry’s folks were gone, we decided to stay the night. I started drinkin’, and Allison was bein’ a bitch ‘cause one of her friends was hittin’ on me.”

He sighed.

“I wasn’t discouragin’ her too much, I guess. Anyway, we got into a fight and Allison was screamin’ at me. I took off and found Mikey. He was wasted—been smokin’ weed and shit. I said I was leavin’ and he tried to talk me into stayin’. We argued some, and then he said he’d drive. Man, he was so high, he couldn’t even see straight. And … I had the keys.”

Jordan took a shuddering breath.

“So Mikey got in the car with me, sayin’ ‘bros before ho’s’, and I started drivin’ us home.”

His body felt tense next to me, but I didn’t dare reach out to touch him. He seemed so far away, lost in his memories.

 

 

 

Jordan

 

I remember it all.

I remember turning up the radio real loud to keep awake for the short drive back, but I guess I fell asleep at the wheel because the next thing I knew the car had shot off the road, flipped over and hit a tree.

I don’t think I was knocked out for long because I remember crawling out of the car and seeing the wheels still spinning, around and around. I couldn’t understand why Mikey wasn’t in the car with me. I was stumbling all over, calling his name.

“Oh my God! What happened then?”

What the fuck?

Confused, I looked up, jolted from the painful past, and saw Torrey’s beautiful blue eyes watching me. Was I talking? Did I just say all of that aloud?

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard, Jordan.”

We were still at the bay, still lying on that rough blanket, her arms around me.

I closed my eyes, traveling back to that night again, pulled toward the dark memories.

“Someone must have seen the car leave the road because there were people there right quick. I remember thinkin’ I’d gone blind in one eye, but it was just because of all the blood. I’d cut my head open and a flap of skin was hangin’ down. I didn’t realize. And then my foot caught in somethin’ and I fell over—I literally tripped over his body. I didn’t recognize him at first.”

Telling this part of the story hurts so bad. I can’t breathe, my chest aches, and it’s like it just happened.

“He hadn’t been wearin’ his seatbelt and he’d gone through the windshield. His face was … gone. But I recognized his t-shirt, and I knew it was him. I was screamin’, I think. I remember that. They told me later that it was me. When I remember it, it’s like someone else is tellin’ me about it, you know? Like it was a film—except I feel it. All of it.”