My dick stiffens.
“Jordan, if you don’t want me to kiss you, you’d better say so now.”
She sets her plate aside, and I drop my slice back into the box.
She straddles my lap, wraps her arms around my neck, and plants those gorgeous, plump lips on mine.
Mind. Blown.
Chapter 7
~Jordan~
“Definitely.” I kiss his chin. “Want you.” Kiss his nose. “To kiss me.”
His arms wrap around me, and those big hands of his glide up my back to my shoulders and then down to my hips. I’ve been watching him all day, been two feet from him in the kitchen where we laughed and talked and enjoyed. For the first time, I feel like I’ve spent time with the real Nick, not the wounded bodyguard.
And I’m done keeping my hands to myself. If the injured man is sexy, this happy, jovial man is absolutely irresistible.
I’m careful not to grab onto his injured shoulder, but aside from that, I attack him with gusto. I’ve been waiting for days for Nick to kiss me again. And I may have been impaired last night, but I remember the chemistry between us, and his admission that he’s open to this.
Thank goodness.
“You’re going to make me crazy,” he mutters against my lips as he slows the kiss. “We’re not in a hurry, sweetheart.”
I press myself against his jean-clad crotch and watch his eyes dilate, making me grin.
“I’m not rushing, I want you.”
He growls deep in his throat, and it only turns me on more. He easily stands with me in his arms, and I pull back to scowl at him.
“Stop lifting me. I’m here to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m not hurting,” he says as he lays me gracefully on the floor in front of the fireplace. “Trust me, I’m not daft. I won’t do anything to injure myself further.”
“Have I mentioned that I love your accent?” I ask as he tugs my sweater up my stomach and presses his talented lips to the skin just above my navel.
“I don’t believe so.”
“Well, I do. It’s not super thick, but it’s there.” He unfastens my jeans and manages to wiggle them down my legs and then tosses them aside. The warmth from the fire surrounds me. I sigh as Nick peppers my skin with open-mouthed kisses, moving from the inside of my knee to just below the promised land.
“Oh my,” I breathe and bury my fingers in his thick, dark hair. Suddenly, I can’t say anything at all as he hooks his finger in my panties and moves them out of his way.
He’s not rough. In fact, his touch couldn’t be gentler as he glides his fingertip through my folds.
“I’m monumentally pissed at myself,” he mutters.
“Why?” My hips arch as he pushes just a bit farther inside.
“Because you’ve been here all this time, and this was waiting for me.”
Without another word, he leans in and feasts. That’s the only word I can use for what he does. He’s going to town down there like it’s his damn job.
And God bless him for it.
I’m still in my sweater, nearly naked from the waist down, and the sexiest man I’ve ever met in my life is making a meal out of me.
I mean, am I the luckiest girl in the world, or what?
My legs start to shake. My spine tingles. I’m pretty sure I just went blind.
And then I break completely apart.
Nick kisses up my stomach and tugs my sweater over my head. When he’s settled over me, resting on his elbows, he grins down at me.
We’re on the living room floor.
And I just had the best orgasm of my freaking existence.
“How are you, sweet girl?”
“Oh, you know.” I blow out a breath and stare at his lips. “Average.”
He narrows his eyes. “Average?”
I giggle and drag my fingertips up and down his biceps. “Is this hurting your shoulder?”
“Fuck my shoulder.”
“I’d rather fuck something else, but only if your shoulder doesn’t hurt.”
His lips twitch, and he leans in to nip the corner of my mouth. “I like your sass.”
And with that, he kisses me like a man starved. He wiggles out of his pants and helps me out of my bra and panties. I hear the sound of a packet being ripped, and then he takes one of my hands in his, threads our fingers, and pins my wrist over my head.
He glances down between us and nudges his way inside.
I bite my lip.
His eyes fly to mine.
“Okay?”
I nod and sigh when he slowly slides in until he’s completely seated, and then growls low in his throat.
“Bloody hell,” he mutters.
I lift my legs higher on his hips and invite him to move.
“Jordan.”
“Yeah?”
“You usually talk nonstop, and now is when you don’t? Talk to me. Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever been better,” I whisper and gasp when he starts to move. “Holy shit, Nick.”