Page 69 of Long Road Home

I had no idea what came over me in the bathroom. Ten years and the only lover I’d had was Paul, and even though we had years together, I still chose to follow instead of lead when it came to bedroom intimacy. Seeing Jordan in the bathroom and the way his eyes darkened with desire for me, it jumpstarted something in me.

A hope I’d thought had fully extinguished.

We could do this. Not sex. That I had no doubt we’d work through. But we could dous.A family. The three of us. I needed to keep my shit together long enough for him to trust me again.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled the scent of his room. Woodsy, spicy…it was all man, exactly like his linens and sparse room décor I caught glimpses of when my eyes opened. There was only one choice I had. One decision to make…and that was to do exactly what Jordan had told me to do.

I reached to my back and unclasped my bra. The lace scraped against my already tightened nipples and a shiver of delicious friction spiked in my veins. My thong went next, falling to the floor.

I was stepping out of them, naked, when the door to the bathroom opened and Jordan walked through. Light behind him shone, shadowing his face, giving off enough to light to illuminate the size of his body. He was so much larger. Stronger. So much more masculine than he’d been in his late teens. Mostly, he was still the most incredibly sexy man I’d ever laid eyes on, and for tonight, he was all mine.

“Hey,” I said, nerves taking over. My feet were rooted to their spot on the carpet and he seemed in no giant hurry to move from the doorway. Was he having second thoughts?

Doubts skittered through my mind as he stood there.

He crossed his arms, still clothed only in his tight, boxer briefs. The brief touch of his length and hardness hadn’t been enough. I was desperate for more of him. Hell, I was desperate forallof him.

“Sit on the bed,” Jordan said, and excitement blossomed. I remembered this part about him. Couldn’t have forgotten it even if I’d been hypnotized into forgetting everything about Jordan.

When it came to sex, he liked to be in control.

I stepped backward until the backs of my thighs brushed against his soft comforter. I sat down slowly, thankful for that simple command. My knees were shaking so hard it would have been difficult to remain standing. My hands went to the edge of the bed, curled around the bedcovers and he took his first step toward me.

Then another. And another. He moved slowly, his arms still crossed, his head tilted down until he was so close I had to lift my chin to look him in the eyes.

“You’re making me nervous,” I admitted. The corner of my lip ended up between my teeth.

“Good. Then that makes two of us.”

“You’re nervous?” Jordan was never nervous. Maybe hewashaving second thoughts.

“As fuck,” Jordan said. “I don’t know if this is smart. I don’t know if this is right. I don’t know if it’s going to help us or fuck everything up for Toby, but all I can think about is if you still feel and taste as good as I remember.”

Oh God. My eyes drifted closed. My heart was pounding. My body at risk of overheating. He hadn’t even touched me, and my limbs were on fire. What would it feel like when he finally did all those things he’d said he wanted?

I’d combust.

“I don’t want this to mess anything up.”

“Good. Then that makes two of us.” He touched me then. His thumb at my jaw. The pad of his thumb brushed along my flesh beneath my jawline and shivers skated across my skin. He drew closer. I could feel it by the scent of him growing until his lips were on mine. Slowly. Testing. A rush of breath left my lips as I leaned in closer to him and then we were kissing. His hands were on both of my cheeks, holding me still, angling me how he wanted me. My hands went to his thighs and curled around the backs. My legs parted, and I pulled him closer to me until my back was arched, his tongue was in my mouth and we were falling slowly, gently to the bed beneath me.

“Jesus,” he groaned, pulling from the kiss. His hands were fire to my cheeks, his body a massive weight on top of me. “I want to take my time and explore every inch of you, but I want to be rough and take you, Des.”

I’d always hated my name. Hated everything it stood for. Jordan saying my nickname, at that moment, at that time, made me love it more than I ever had, even the hundreds of times he’d spoken it before.

He might not have forgiven me yet. He might not trust me yet, but he wastrying, and I’d spend every hour of the rest of my days trying to prove to him I was worth it.

I slid my hands up his sides to his shoulders, leaned in and kissed his shoulder. “I want you to take me however you need.”

His forehead pressed against mine. His chest heaved against mine. “If you need me to stop, if it becomes too much, I will. Just say the words.”

“Now you’re scaring me,” I said, teasing him as my hands continued to run up and down his sides, his shoulders, his hips…everywhere I could reach. I wasn’t scared. Overwhelmed, yes.

“Promise me,” he said. “If this becomes too much. If you change your mind, you’ll let me know.”

“It won’t.” There was no way it could. I’d waited a decade for this. “But I promise you.”

“Good.” Then he took me. His mouth slammed against mine like I’d finally unleashed something primal in him. His hands were at my breasts, pulling and tugging my nipples until I pulsed with wild need for him. My hips undulated against him, pressed against his hardness until I found the right rhythm where I could rub my center against him. The friction against his boxers wasn’t nearly enough. I wanted his thick length inside of me, but every time I brushed against him, his answering moan and his fingers and the taste of me made me wetter.