I Run to You (33 page)

Pulling her hands with his, to his spine, he
felt the ring, felt her body tremble, and raised his lips enough to
breathe sexily, “You’ll have to keep me in first gear, baby. You
make me a little high.”

She whispered back, “I’m not fragile and
broken, Max. I’ve just never felt like this.” Her parted lips
brushed and rubbed across his. “I’ve never been kissed the way you
kiss me. Never—had anything like—you give.”

He groaned, and kissed her repeatedly.

Max put his arms around her, leaving hers
around his waist. Not breathing very steady he husked, “I’m
experienced, and have never—not—been confident with women—as you
pointed out. You scare the hell of me. I don’t want to make any
mistakes.”

Max leaned back, when she nudged him.

He wanted to groan again when her hands
worked under the T-shirt and her palms touched his bare back.

Jordan’s eyes were lighter green as she
captured his. “I’ve no real experience to compare. The guy I took
off with was high 99% of the time. I would not call anything we did
lovemaking. I was a kid. He was an ass hole.”

Max grinned. He loved her when she was
blunt.

“So, that is all there is to consider. Since
I’ve become a grown woman, I have avoided men all together. And
just in case you didn’t hear me before—I’ve never— felt like
this.”

“Turned on?”

“Yeah, that.” She raked her teeth over her
lip, sending another curl of heat to his belly. “Not this close.
Not this intimate. Not the feeling I am getting—just having my
palms on your back. The taste of you on my lips.”

Max was so turned on, he was afraid to move
an inch.

It probably showed in his face and his
eyes.

He said softly, “I’m glad I make you feel
good. You sure as hell tear me up like no woman I have been with.
Just kisses, just looking at you—”

Jordan leaned her head against his
breastbone. “Yeah.”

He laughed, a pitiful one, considering.

Putting his hands lower, on her spine, he
uttered, “In the spirit of us both being adults—and you being one
able to make up your own mind. We either sit down and talk, watch
this sunset. Or I’m going to touch more than your back.”

She laughed weakly. “Mmmm. That’s a hard
one.”

“You ain’t kidding’, honey.”

“Max.”

“Not like I can hide it,” he whispered in her
ear. “But tell me you’re wet and I’ll feel better.”

She groaned. “You talk—”

“—Sexy?”

She bit at his skin. “Maybe.”

Max leaned back and then took that step from
her, while sucking in the evening air —trying to clear his dizzy
head. There was no help for the thud of his heart because his blood
pumped sizzling hot.

She looked even better all turned on, and
backlit by the sun—

That sucking in of air didn’t help a bit.

“Beer?”

Her hands slid from him. She was against the
rail again, tilting her head back slightly, breathing through her
nose.

Max was thinking he would like a picture of
her that way.

She looked— aroused. “Yeah, sure.”

“What?” he asked before leaving to fetch
it.

“I’ll tell you, when you get back.”

He smiled and went to the kitchen, his legs
too heavy, and every muscle tight. He grabbed frosted beer, opened
it, and went back.

Just in the doorway— he stopped.

“Too much?” Jordan whispered standing there
in a black silk bra and high cut panties of the same color—just
enough lace material over her pubic area to be teasing. .

Her creamy skin, feminine curves, out and in—
from the top of those breasts, round and full, to the curve of her
waist. She was gorgeous. Her hips flared. Her legs were
beautiful—and Max knew if he did not say something soon she would
get self-conscious.

He stepped out and set the beer on the little
table between two chairs. Cupping her flushed face, he blurt,
“Woman…oh, woman…How I love you.”

Before she could absorb that, he kissed her
breathless, his hands smoothing up her sides and down her hips.

When he let her breathe again, Max used what
was left of his, to tell her, “I’m going to pleasure you.”

His palms found her breasts, felt her hard
nipples. He flexed in to massage them. “I’m going to make you
cum.”

Her nails bit into the back of her shoulders.
On her tiptoes, mouth against his Jordan whispered, “You’ll have to
show me—”

Max kept one hand on her breast and lowered
the other, sliding it between them, to the apex of her thighs. He
heard her little gasp, the instinctive movement toward his touch.
“Just feel…” He flexed his fingers inward, cupping her there and
feeling her heat, the dampness. “Do you trust me?”

“Am I standing here half necked?” She laughed
weakly.

Max eased back,

The sun had nearly set, the sky bathed in a
mix of purple and reds.

“We’re going to take our time.”

“I don’t think I’ll live that long.”

He grinned, familiar with that feeling.
Between his groin, his heart, and head, he felt like he would die
if he didn’t get inside her.

Just knowing he was her first adult
experience tempered that.

Max moved and got the beer, handing her one.
Deciding they could both ignore each other’s trembling fingers
while they drank deep.

He sat his down after a few sips, and peeled
off his shirt. Tossing it somewhere, he would later remember.

Evening’s subdued light played over the deck,
over Jordan.

He asked, “How’s your legs? Mine are
trembling?’

“Weak.” She swallowed.

He took her hand and led her over to the
standing hammock in the corner of the deck. She set the beer down
on the nearby rail.

Max sat on the hammock but pulled her down so
she was half across him. Her legs over his legs, he leaned her
back, taking his time kissing her before he began to touch her
again. Reading every subtle sigh, he smoothed his hand over her
cheek, her throat and shoulder, enjoying touching her, the feel of
her skin.

She began to do little bites at his lips, her
tongue playing at them, and he almost lost focus. His hand swept
half into the cup of her bra, feeling those utterly soft mounds in
contrast to the distended nipple. Her diminutive gasp gave him
permission. He undid the front latch.

Max leaned up, unwilling to miss the moment
when he swept those cups aside.

“Beautiful.” He dragged his gaze from her
breasts, the large, dusky nipples, to meet her hazed eyes.
“Lovely.”

Wetting her lips, Jordan brought his hand
back to cover one. “There are little… marks on them….”

“There’s nothing flawed about them,” he
corrected. Dipping his head, capturing her left nipple between his
lips, he was soon suckling, laving, teasing. He enjoyed the
distorted pattern of her breathing, the soft moans—and shivers, she
released. Cupping her breasts, he took his time, wet them, laved
for endless moments.

“Max.” Her neck arched; hand tangled in his
hair. When he raised his head. A pulse beat furiously at her
throat.

Looking down, he smoothed his hand over her
ribs, then her trembling belly before easing his fingers under the
band of her panties—and groaning— as the peek he got exposed a
tattoo just above her neatly waxed strip of black hair—a tiny
bee—which he found amusing, sexy, and erotic. A honeybee.

Parting the hair, lips, touching soft, moist
skin and ultra-sensitive nerves, he felt her jerk.

Stretching up, so he could kiss her softly,
Max said, a whisper back from her mouth, “I like this. You feel
sexy and soft and wet.”

Her lashes were half-mast.

His fingers were going further, to her
entry.

She was creamy hot, liquid. Max told her
that. He watched for any sign of resistance, for fear, whatever she
might feel other than pleasure, while teasing there, shallow,
entering only a little at a time.

Her teeth set against her lower lip. Her
face, her shimmering green eyes, showed only desire. He alternated
now, skimming up to the swollen nerves, down again, easy, and slow.
“You can do this, you know. Make yourself feel good when—

“I know—now.”

“Never been turned on enough?”

“Something like that.”

He was interested in what that meant, but
figured it was a little about her guilt ridden upbringing, and
feelings about the child. Maybe carried guilt, fear, locked up
emotions. Not to mention the early trauma.

Now that he was actually touching her, he
felt safe enough to ease his touch deeper in, holding that way,
feeling her inner muscles flex in, quivering. “You’ll kill me when
we finally make love.”

“What?’ Jordan blinked sucking in a
breath.

“Nothing. Just, loving how you feel.” He
eased his finger out and high between the slick folds. He began to
rub, and create friction.

The moment she arched and started to lose
herself, he wanted to shout, oh yeah. But, was so focused, centered
on how sensual, sexy and damned erotic she was—and looked—that he
could not have spoken a word.

Ceasing only long enough to tug her panties
down her thighs, Max went back to touching her, while he gradually
moved out from under her. Standing, over her now, her body arched
on the green fabric of the hammock, her fingers gripping the
edges—Max went to his knees, moved her before she could realize
it—his mouth came against her sweet sex.

“Ahhh. Damn” Her cry was both husky and loud.
Thighs trembling against him.

Max ate her—and loved it. Every second, every
moment, every lave, love bite, and suckle. He felt her release
coming. He touched her again, his tongue stroking over those nerves
at the same time. It came shuddering through her muscles and bone.
He closed his eyes, letting her pleasure cries and tight breathing,
rain over him.

Drawing back when the tremors stopped, Max
was acutely aware that it was a quick one. He moved her, so he
could lie down and gather her in his arms. Pulling the bra free,
the panties, and tossing them back where his shirt was.

She held him, face buried against his chest
for long skin-flushed moments.

When Jordan spoke against his skin, it was in
a drowsy tone, “Wow.”

He laughed softly. “I did good, huh?”

“You get an A.” She slid her leg between
his.

Max grunted, feeling it against his sex.

Her hands smoothed up his back. She leaned
her head back, to stare at him.

Looking down at her, he confessed, “I don’t
want our first time to be two seconds long.”

Jordan raised on her elbow. Her uncovered
breasts distracted him pleasantly until she reached up and traced
his lips. “Can I touch you?”

“Anywhere.”

Jordan began to kiss him. Max gave himself up
to it. Her mouth on his nipples was too much. He cupped her chin,
his eyes nearly blinded while he kissed her, then said against her
lips while unlatching his jeans, “I’m easy today, love. Another
time I’ll be dying for you to do that but—”

She skimmed her palm down his stomach,
dipping into the sport briefs he wore.

“Oh, Damn.” Max groaned the moment her
fingers touched him. “Wait.” He sat up and sucked in air. “This is
a new one.” He shoved his hands through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” She sat up, her hand skimming
his back.

Max swallowed a couple of times. He stood and
grabbed her hand, helping her to her feet. He led her inside and up
the stairs to the loft.

“My clothing is outside. “ She laughed
softly, watching him strip down.

“Mine’s got to come off.” He peeled down
jeans and shorts.

“Oh—God—you’re—”

For a split second, he almost died— thinking
was she afraid of him. Of his—cock.

Jordan found her words, the same moment she
stepped toward him, her fingers tracing the black hair, and dancing
her touch up his sex so sweetly he almost came right then.
“Perfect.”

Arching his neck, closing his eyes, he
muttered, “Jesus, woman! You nearly gave me heart failure.”

“Sorry. I wanted to say beautiful, but…”

“Come here.” He cupped her head, dipped for a
kiss, and then took her to the bed with him. Propped with their
backs against the far wall, Max kissed her, touched her, taking her
hand—to wrap around his thick arousal.

She stroked him.

He kissed deeper, touched firmer. Jerking his
mouth from hers—and holding her closer, he released with enough
force to blind him for two seconds. The pleasure raced through his
blood and muscle. The merest whisper of her hand stroking up,
nearly taking his head off with intensity.

At some point, Max felt and found a shirt to
hand her, while he slid down, to let his blood pressure even
out.

He was there, somewhere in the hazy limbo of,
God that felt good, when she crawled over him and off the bed. She
was back some moments, with a damp cloth he used to clean up, still
too lax to be coherent yet.

“You okay?’

He raised his lashes. “Will you stay here
tonight?”

“Yes.”

He drew her down to his side.

“I need to go get my clothing out there.”

“It’s early yet.” He snuggled her against
him. Skin to skin everywhere he thought blissfully. “Did I rush
it?”

“No.”

“I can do that again—”

She laughed against his neck.

He sniggered lazily. “I mean you. Not
me.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Soon?”

“Couple of hours from now?”

“Yes.”

He rose on his elbow and leaned over her.
“You’re not ignorant.”

“Gee, thanks.” She frowned on a laugh.

He chuckled. “No. I didn’t mean that. I was—
half talking to myself. I want to say something but I don’t want to
sound like I’m assuming you’re—”

“Max?” she cut him off.

“What?”

Her eyes held his. “I read books. I watch
movies. I hear people talking. What is it you want to say?”