Sparring Partners (14 page)

With his free hand he cupped her jaw opening
her wider so his tongue could penetrate her fully, then, with the
back of his hand, he traced the curve of her neck to her collar
bone. Reed's collar bone wasn't as prominent as the bone on most of
the model's he'd made love to, there was meat on Reed, but Jordon
could feel how delicate she was beneath all the muscle she'd built
up to protect it. All of Reed was like that. Vulnerable under the
surface protection she worked so hard to amass.

He gently moved his hand down to one firm
breast. Her nipple was already hard from rubbing against him. He
took it between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it firmly back
and forth. Reed arched her back, groaning into his mouth. A feeling
of invincibility surged through Jordon, emboldening him to squeeze
harder. She'd be sore afterwards, but she was enjoying the small
pain now.

He'd give her whatever she wanted, whatever
she needed and more. He'd give her everything he had to give.

Jordon let go of her nipple savoring her
small sound of disappointment. He ran the flat of his hand over her
solar plexus and abdomen to the slight curve of her stomach. He let
her feel the warmth of him there at the top of her mound for a
second before his fingers twisted through her deep red curls in
search of her clit. It was hard, unsheathed, and slick with
readiness. He stroked her gently with the pad of his thumb before
his hand stilled. She made another sound of protest when he
stopped, and Jordon almost smiled. He would have if he could have
spared the effort it was costing him not to plunge into her.

He let go of her wrists instead. Holding
himself a breath away from her, he forced himself to wait.

"Open your eyes. Look at me, Reed." Jordon
waited until she did.

Her lovely eyes were almost black with
pupil, even in the dappled light. She looked like she'd consumed
opiates instead of him. The sight of her, wanton and reckless,
almost snapped what was left of his control, but this was too
important to rush. He wanted her to accept him into her body, her
life, her heart.

"If you want me, you're going to have to put
me inside you. I want no doubt later about who's decision this was.
No recriminations. No blame."

Jordon pushed his hips forward letting her
feel his steel against the open lips of her. "Show me you want me
inside you. Show me that's where I belong."

She wasted no time gripping him firmly in
one hand as she opened herself more fully with the other, her eyes
never leaving his. She didn't hesitate as she brought him to her,
pulsing, engorged and ready to shoot.

With the first inch Jordon felt her
tightness. After she pushed, pulled and sucked the head of him into
her channel, the rest was easy. With one swift surge of his hips he
was fully sheathed, her determined hands gripping the curve of his
bottom, holding him to her.

"This is where I want you. This is where you
belong." She whispered up at him, holding his gaze with an open
honesty that made him want to cry and shout to the heavens at the
same time.

He broke eye contact first, burying his face
in the curve of her neck as he began to move. Slowly at first, then
with more urgency as her nails bit into him demanding he speed it
up. When she lifted her legs, wrapping her ankles around him just
below his shoulders, he sank so deep he felt like he was drowning,
railing against the waves of sensation.

He plunged in and out, cupping the twin
curves of her bottom off the blanket, as he ravished the depths of
her, touching the entrance to her womb. When he felt it and the
contractions that began to milk him, Jordon stopping fighting and
exploded into her.

He held her to him as his sperm shot from
him, bathing her channel. He didn't pull out. He savored every
after-shock, as his heartbeat ebbed from his cock and returned to
his heart. This was the second time he'd come inside her, and the
second time she'd let him.

Jordon kept himself fully sheathed but
lifted his shoulders so he could focus on Reed's face. When she
stopped shaking, Reed looked at him. There was wonder and something
he couldn't name but seemed serious, written on her face.

"This isn't going to stop. You know that,
don't you." He said. It wasn't a question.

Reed looked away from him. When she looked
back Jordon wasn't able to read her expression at all, but she
didn't push him away.

"I don't want it to stop."

Relief and something more primal shot
through Jordon. He pushed his rapidly shrinking cock into her more
deeply before he pulled out and held her in his arms. She shivered,
and Jordon wrapped the edge of the blanket around them, even though
it was at least eighty degrees in the shade. He didn't want to
chill Reed.

"This is the second time I've come inside
you. We ought to talk about how this is going to work if you don't
want to wind up pregnant."

Reed was silent. Her shivers didn't subside
even with the warmth of the cotton and his body heat. Jordon gently
lifted her chin so she couldn't hide from him.

"What is it, sweetheart? What has you
shaking like a leaf? There's nothing that can't be figured out
here, I just need to know how you want to handle this."

Reed looked at him with tears in her eyes
and a stubborn tilt to her chin that said she'd never voluntarily
shed even one tear.

"Do you want children, Jordon?"

Pain tore through him at the thought of
Emily, premature, fighting for a life that was never destined to
be. "I did. Once."

"What about now?"

"I haven't thought about being a father in a
very long time."

Liar
.

His conscience shouted at him, the truth of
it slicing through him like a freshly sharpened sickle through
grass. He thought about it every day after Emily's death for years.
Then, only once a year when he returned to Jackson to put flowers
on her grave. Since he'd met Reed he'd been thinking of it again,
and it hurt, but differently now.

Reed looked at him through unshed tears.
Defiant. Vulnerable. And inextricably sad.

"I had a daughter when I was sixteen." She
said. "She was adopted. I don't know where she is now although I've
tried to find her. She'd be nineteen now." Reed hiccupped and one
small tear escaped. She angrily rubbed it away.

"The doctor told me I'd never have another
child. I'm damaged."

Something inside Jordon snapped. He pulled
Reed tighter to him and held her, rocking her for awhile like she
was a small child waking from a nightmare, soothing her with
inarticulate sounds while her tears flowed.

When she quieted, he kissed the top of her
head. Pushing the hair from her tear stained face he held her,
gently but firmly, so she couldn't look away.

"There's nothing about you that's damaged.
There's nothing that happened that can't be fixed if you want to
try. There is nothing you could say to me to chase me from your
bed. I don't need children to be with you and you already have
Jesse. Life will only damage you if you let it, Reed. And I have no
intention of allowing you to let it. Not now. Not ever. Do you
understand me?"

She didn't say anything to him, but then she
didn't need to. The look in her eyes when she kissed him said it
all. She didn't love him yet, at least he didn't think so, but the
look she gave him said she could. It was a good start.

Jordon held her to him until her breathing
told him she was asleep. She'd brought him out here for a reason,
and he was fairly certain it wasn't to tell him she'd given up her
daughter as a teenager and some quack had her believing she was
something less than whole. He'd find out why she'd come to him
later. After he had Henry track down her daughter. Open adoptions
weren't common nineteen years ago, so Jordon knew it wouldn't be
easy, but if the girl could be found, Henry would find her. Then
he'd figure out whether to tell Reed or not.

The next thing he had to do was convince her
to see a doctor. Jordon didn't care if she couldn't have children,
but she obviously cared. A lot. He always thought there would be
time to have a family of his own if he wanted to risk it again. He
wasn't sure he ever wanted to take that risk again. Last week he
knew he'd never take it.

This week he was holding his wife in his
arms, protecting her while she slept wrapped up with him under the
willow tree where he'd just had the most amazing sexual experience
of his life so far. He didn't need this, and he certainly didn't
need a family.

Yeah, right, Bennett
.

Jordon pulled Reed closer to him and closed
his eyes. If he tried hard enough, maybe he could make that voice
inside him disappear just like he made it disappear all those years
ago when he left Jackson.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Irma arrived from the rehabilitation wing of
the local nursing home an hour early. Shannon O'Shay picked her up
and drove her to Potters Woods as he'd agreed to do a week earlier
when Reed asked him. Shay knew he was early, but he wanted to see
Reed. He still couldn't believe she actually married that guy who
showed up in the dojo with no warning.

Why had she done that? He was supposed to be
her best friend. If she was going to marry someone, he should have
been the first person she asked, or at least the first one she
told. At a minimum, she could have given him enough time to check
the guy out, maybe send him swimming with the fishes
before
she married him.

Shay stopped the van right next to a
delivery truck parked in Reed's driveway and helped Irma out. She
insisted on sitting in the passenger seat instead of the back where
it was more comfortable and safer. One look at the determination in
her wrinkled face, and the grip she had on the rock-crystal head of
her cane, convinced Shay not to argue. He'd known his share of
stubborn Irish women, Scottish women couldn't be all that
different. Not if the starch in Irma's back-bone, even with
osteoporosis, was any indication.

"Take my arm, Irma. Let me help you."

She hit him with her cane. Not too hard,
just enough to let him know who was boss. "Young man, I've been
getting out of vehicles since Ford created the Model-T. I think I
can get down from this one. Now give me your hand."

"Yes, ma'am."

She made a sound in the back of her throat
that Shay took to mean she was pleased with his response and held
out her arm. When her foot slipped on the floor board Shay caught
her and set her gently on the ground. She was so light and fragile
he hoped he hadn't bruised her in the process.

"You're not old enough to have ridden in a
Model-T when it was new, Mrs. MacDonald."

"Don't flirt with me young man. I'm immune.
I was two before Ford moved on to a new model. My father kept his
1927 Model-T until he died in 1957. Still ran beautifully when my
mother finally sold her. I have many fond memories of that
car."

Shay walked slowly, not pushing her to walk
faster than she was able. They'd only made it a few steps when he
heard Reed's voice calling out to them. "Irma."

Shay turned to see Reed running toward them,
hair tossed and flecked with blades of grass, wearing a flimsy
summer dress that could have passed for a night gown. He'd never
actually seen her in a dress before. It was quite disconcerting,
but not half as much as seeing the man slowly making his way up the
hill behind her, the same grass in his hair, shirt untucked. Shay
stopped breathing, his free hand fisting at his side.

What was it about tall, dark men with long
hair that made women completely lose their sense?

By the time Reed reached them she was out of
breath and her cheeks were pink. Shay couldn't tell if that was
from embarrassment, exertion, or both. He sure as shit didn't want
to think about what kind of exertion she may have been engaged in
with Bennett.

"Irma, you're early. I saw you trip, are you
all right?"

Irma waved away Reed's concern and gripped
Shay's arm as she steadied herself with her cane. "Mr. O'Shay was
simply playing the role of gallant gentleman lending me assistance.
I'm fine."

Reed looked at him and smiled. Shay didn't
smile back when he said, "You're wearing a dress?"

She cocked her head at him like it was
something she did every day. Shay knew better. Still, he wished he
hadn't sounded so accusatory. Predatory was how he was feeling, but
he needed to control that. Reed had made it clear that her
affection for him did not cross the line of friendship into the
land of the physical, even though she knew he'd be happy to go
there with her if she were willing. She wasn't willing. Not with
him anyway. That hurt and pissed him off almost as much as the fact
that there was nothing he could do about it, Bennett or no Bennett.
That didn't mean he had to like it.

"You don't like it?"

She asked it as if she didn't have a clue
how hard it was seeing her dress up for another man was for him.
Shay rubbed his eyes with one hand, felt Irma's cane jab him in the
ribs and forced himself back to the land of reality. The fact was,
Reed didn't have a clue. Since the first time he tried to kiss her,
he'd kept his feelings to himself, hiding behind his smiling
big-brother veneer, dating everything and anything in a skirt
between twenty-one and fifty-one, who was interested.

Irma answered before he could, giving him
time to don his Irish-devil-may-care smile again. "Of course he
likes it dear. It's lovely. I think what Mr. O'Shay was concerned
about had something to do with a date the two of you had to
practice some sort of weapon this afternoon. Can you do that in a
dress, dear?"

Irma MacDonald may God bless your Scots
soul
, Shay thought, thankful the old woman had been paying
attention as he rambled on the way here.