Page 39 of Make You Love Me
“Jordan.”
“Nora,” he says in the same exasperated tone, taking my hand. “You’re my girl, and I miss holding you. Please.”
How could I resist that plea? How did I ever before?
With a nod, I move to stand in front of him and kick off my ankle boots. His eyes stay on mine as I kneel to remove the sneaker from his uninjured leg and push all three out of the way with my foot.
Rising again, I peel off my sweatshirt, unbutton my jeans, and wiggle out of them. I take a step toward my suitcase to retrieve a pair of shorts, freezing at the sound of his deep voice. It wraps around me like velvet and a soothing warmth fills the void inside me.
“Don’t. I want you just like that.”
“What about my bra? I was thinking I’d be more comfortable without it, but if you prefer—”
“Good point. No bra. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
Pinching back a grin, I reach both hands around to unhook the bra. All amusement leaves his face as desire and primal need have him fidgeting in his seat. His gaze trails from my lips to my breasts, pushing against the tight cotton. I hook the strap inside my right sleeve and pull it down my arm, repeating the feat on the other side. For the last step, the one I can tell is making his mouth water in anticipation, I bunch my shirt above my waist to pull out the garment underneath. With a flick of my arm, I toss it onto the couch behind him.
“Your turn.” After two unforgettable kisses from him today, all I can think about is doing it again while trailing my fingers over the ridges of muscles and smooth skin.
I help him out of his layers, amazed by how sensual it is to undress him with careful precision. His breath heats my cheek, teasing me with how close he is. If I turn my head, my body will have what it craves.
Him.
I want him, even though I shouldn’t. Even though it’s wrong, and potentially destroying this sinking ship with a relentless thunderstorm. I need his hands and lips on my skin. I need him to unravel me and take me under.
“Bed. Now,” he whispers through gritted teeth, his control shredded and faltering.
Straddling his legs, I set aside the glass and medication to wrap my arms around his waist. “Hold on to me.”
“Gladly,” he says and grips my left shoulder.
Unable to resist, I place a kiss on his cheek and start the countdown. On one, he pushes up, instantly smashing our bodies together—shoulders, chest, hips. I can feel the cold metal of his dog tags through the fabric as he leans on me, his hand sliding down my back to cup my ass. Stunned, I look up in time for his mouth to cover mine, possessive, greedy, and hot. Holding him closer, I realize how much I missed our connection and the surge of electricity we invoke in each other.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, moving to my neck.
“I…can’t think…when you do that.” I also can’t stop myself from leaning back to allow more space for him to continue whatever he’s doing to me. My knees quiver, but since I’m the one holding up this pleasure party, I steady myself. “I don’t think you should do extracurricular—”
He takes possession of my lips with his before I can finish drawing a line in the ever-changing quicksand that is our current relationship. If I had been wavering on whether to give in, this kiss would have been convincing enough. Consequences be damned.
A low moan flutters in my throat as his hand finds its way inside my shirt, and a rough, calloused palm embraces my breast.
“What do you think now?” he asks, clear on his intentions.
“I think you’re my weakness, and when you touch me like that, you can have anything you want.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“But,” I manage through the haze of my own unmet needs, “you haven’t taken your meds yet.”
“Forget them. I want to be fully present for every minute.”
“We must be careful. You’re injured in places easy to make worse with what you’re offering.”
His posture deflates, making me smile.
“Don’t worry. It just means we have another opportunity to get creative.”
