It didn’t take a genius to know that she was in deep trouble. Yes, she’d decided he was the man for her but what she hadn’t bargained on was that the fairytale notion of instalove existed.
“No intentional seduction, Jordan. Not now. I only want to enjoy this moment. Enjoy… you.”
The music swirled around them. With a sigh she relaxed and rested her head against his chest as they swayed gently to the rhythm of the music. Her emotions flowed along with every string of the violin, the chords of the piano, and the slow and steady beating of a drum.
Jordan loved dancing. The closeness she experienced with him was unsurpassed by anything she’d felt with other men in her life to date. It was as if the music transformed them, flowing through the atmosphere in graceful arcs, as their limbs followed, painting a picture sound alone could never achieve. For the first time, she felt what he’d spoken about earlier… a moment where a wordless interpretation of the beats and the soft strings weaved through their bodies to bring them closer. It unlocked emotions the likes of which she’d forgotten the meaning. She looked up, caught in the moment— one precious moment where his eyes relayed the most honest form of commitment she’d ever seen.
“Yes, beautiful,” he purred. “This is it. We fit— perfectly. Like I’ve known from the start.”
Before she could wrap her mind around the words that brought unfound joy inside her heart, he led her into a sensual tango as the next song began.
Where the previous dance had been intense and emotive, this one was all about showmanship, carnality, and lust, which he did with flair… leaving her in no doubt that he was indeed a Dominant not to be underestimated.
“Good lord, Carter, you surprised me, yet again,” she said breathlessly as they settled back at their table. “Who would’ve thought a big, muscled hulk like you could be as light as a feather on the dancefloor.” She took a sip of water as she watched him over the rim of the glass. “I am duly impressed.”
“As am I. You’re an excellent dancer.”
“Yeah,” she smiled wryly. “I had dreams of being a ballerina when I was young but these damn legs of mine just wouldn’t stop growing. Suffice it to say, I towered over all the boys and realized I would always be chosen as a back dancer, never the lead, which was my dream. I was just too tall and intimidating.” She laughed at Brock’s expression. “My ballet teacher had a way with words.”
“I for one, love your legs and am very happy they kept growing. I’ve been envisioning laving them with my tongue from toe to thigh for months.”
The confession was so unexpected that it caught Jordan unguarded. A rush of heat bloomed across her face untamed. She shut her eyes to crush the vision that threatened to rampage through her mind.
When she gave free rein to her sexual needs, she wanted him to be in full attendance and not hide what he truly felt and desired from eager onlookers.
“It’s cruel to tease me like that,” she hissed as she attempted to force back the lust unfurling inside her. The arrival of Jeanette with their starters offered her the respite she needed to regain control over her emotions.
Jordan took a sip of the crisp, dry wine that Emile had paired with the decadent prawn hors d'oeuvres. “Cecile,” she said by way of opening the door to discussion.
It counted in Brock’s favor that he didn’t flinch or seem unsettled at her subtle prodding for more information.
“You, no doubt, already know she was my wife and died in a car accident fifteen years ago, along with our two-year-old daughter.”
“It must’ve been a terrible blow,” she affirmed.
“It was.” He was at ease as he chewed on a piece of warm bread. “We had the kind of love that others envied. We were each other’s yin and yang. We were married right out of college and Courtney was born eleven months later. We were happy and I believed I had been blessed finding her so early in my life. The accident happened during my deployment to Afghanistan. That’s what devastated me more than the shock of their death— that I never got to say goodbye.” He stared at her unflinchingly. “I believed then that the kind of love we had only come around once in life. I realized over time that I was wrong. Human beings have the capacity to love more than once but in different ways. One thing you need to understand, Jordan, is that Cecile will always be in my heart, she was an important part of my life, but it’s in the past. I learned to live with the loss and I’ve only recently accepted that it’s time to move on, to find my final happily ever after.”
“And you believe that to be with me.”
“I’m the kind of man who knows what he wants. Once I do, I go after it. I don't give up at the first hurdle. You should know that my love will be all-encompassing, demanding— powerful but I will always put you first. The fierce commitment to the protection of your body, mind and soul will always be the most important mission of my life. So, if you can accept that and me for all that I am, then the answer is yes. I see us together.”
“Oh, I most definitely can,” she said quickly. “The question is whether you can accept me for what I am. Cheeky, sassy, intimidating and as demanding as hell in every aspect of who and what I am. In love, I do it with all out passion and I’ll demand the same from you. I’m not an easy woman to live with. I’m sloppy, my clothes tend to be all over the place and I’m impulsive… sometimes too much but it’s who I am. I’m the worst cook but I love pottering around in the kitchen. So, if you can accept all of that and then some, then I guess we have a future to look forward to.”
“Indeed we do.”
Chapter Nine
“No more stalling, Brock,” Jordan said decisively as she stopped in her tracks just inside the front door of her house a couple of hours later. The evening had exceeded all her expectations. Now, she was ready to turn up the heat.
He looked at her curiously. “What? No nightcap?”
Her eyes narrowed at the droll intonation. “Are you mocking me, sir?” Arms akimbo, she stood flexed upon her hips. “Better get in shape, Mack. I’ve been waiting patiently for months to go twelve rounds in an indulgent, no holds barred match with you to indulge my insatiable need of torrid sex.”
“As do many others,” he rasped. She knew he wasn’t boasting, merely stating a fact. Her ire spiked as he continued. “What do you have to offer to sweeten the deal to distract my thirst for that nightcap?”
His eyes glimmered as he watched the dress slip from her shoulders to pool at her feet. She had gone braless which allowed him to drink in the fullness of her breasts with the resultant cause and effect showing itself in the tumescence pressing against his pants. She hooked a finger into the black satin thong and delicately freed herself in choreographed moves, deliberately aimed at laying siege to the engine of his lust, forcing his dormant heart to surrender.
“I have no interest in competing with your ex-lovers since I will be your last. All I have to offer is me— all of me, however and as often as you desire.” She kicked out, aiming the triangle of satin at his face. He snatched it in the air, eyes darkening on her glorious nakedness which she proudly displayed, unconcerned with the multitude of faded scars marring her silky skin. “Just know this, Brock Carter, fucking me once tonight ain’t gonna be enough to satiate my hunger, so I hope you’ve come armed with stamina.” She sashayed up the stairs, wearing only the black strappy stilettos.