“Hmm… like Brock, maybe?”
Jordan cursed as she felt her cheeks blush.
“No need to hide it, my friend. You forget. We all walked in on that very passionate kiss in Turkey. The fire between the two of you burns so hot when you’re together, it scorches anyone who happens to be in the same room.”
“I’m not hiding anything. As a matter of fact, I had decided months ago that he would be my future husband.” She smiled slyly. “It seems he is of the same mind.”
“Tell me more.”
Jordan briefly relayed Brock’s statement in regard to their future and marriage. “Except the damn man seems to think I’m too fragile at the moment for a much needed, wickedly naughty sexual tango.” She smiled broadly. “But he did tan my ass in a very delightful way, I might add.” She shifted on the chair as memories of her stinging behind flashed through her mind. “It hurt the shit out of me but I have never been submerged into a sea of lust as fast as he managed to get me there with his bare hand.”
“Looks like that might be their branding— pardon the pun,” Paxton giggled. “The Cobra Doms… it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Does.” Jordan’s palms cracked on the desk as she pushed away to stand. “Well, no time like the present to let one of them know I’ve regained my strength, right? Two birds with one stone. I’ll just head on over to the bunker, lasso Cruz and Tanner for some help and pluck Brock Carter’s head out of his arse to engage in giving me a thorough… uh… internal rubbing, so to speak.”
“That’s the spirit,” Paxton laughed as she grabbed her laptops and with a bright, “Toodles,” sashayed out of the door.
The heels of Jordan’s black Jimmy Choo stiletto booties ticked against the hardwood floor in sync with the secondhand movement of the vintage train station wall clock as she strode into The Cobra’s operation room.
She stopped to study the contrast of the clock against the uber modern interior of the underground bunker.
“Far be it for me to point it out but that clock sticks out like dog’s balls. Which one of you flunked Feng Shui 101?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Jordan stared at him aghast. She pointed to the offending artifact. “Nothing… andeverything! It’s a small wonder the thing still works.” She squinted closer. “Or is it a cheap replica you bought at Walmart?”
“Why, you ignorant, little snotnose, it’s the real thing— right out of the train station in my hometown,” Brock said defensively..
“You? Oh, good God! No! Say it ain’t so. Please! Oh Jesus, save me. I see nothing but hardship in my future.” She tapped her toe as she regarded him. “There’s no way in hell I will ever share space with an ancient relic in my home, Brock Carter. If your house is littered with stuff likethat,” she cried, stabbing a finger at the clock, “we’re going to begin with a serious garage sale before I even step inside.”
“Whoa! Backtrack there, little kitty,” Cruz said as he leaned forward with bulging eyes. Brock didn’t seem at all offended. It was quite the opposite. He was amused.
“Good lord! He’s smiling. Tanner, am I dreaming? Our buddy Brock has a smile on his face… at this time of the morning?”
“Well, I’ll be buggered. Look at that.” Tanner stared at Jordan. “I need me some of that muti— anything to soften his usually morose expression.”
“That’ll be difficult, Tanner. You don’t have the unique DNA,” Brock answered as his eyes skimmed over Jordan’s lithe form. “Or the harmonic topography of beautiful curves and swales to entice the eye of the beholder.”
“Christ, she’s turned him into a degenerate schoolboy on top of it,” Cruz mocked. “Just look at him— all dumb and full of cum.”
“Not to mention a veritable William Shakespeare…harmonic topography of rounds and swales,” Tanner quotes with obvious mirth.
“Jealousy is a terrible thing, boys,” Brock growled with the smile intact.
“Hold on. Garage sale?” Cruz latched onto what Jordan had said. “Why does it sound like the two of you—” He looked at Tanner. “You heard it too, right? The two of them?”
“You’ve got a problem with that, Cruz?” The tapping of her shoe increased.
“Hell no!” He waved a hand at Brock. “Especially if that’s the result.”
“Beat it, you two.”
“Come on, Brock, my man. This is the first time we get to have a front row seat—” Tanner ducked under the pen that shot towards him. “I guess we better go and check the satellite dishes.”
Jordan didn’t watch them leave. She walked up to Brock, swiveled his chair away from the desk then straddled his lap.
“You like living dangerously,” he said, feeling provoked enough to counter her advance by laying siege to her thighs with his hands.