Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume III Page 17

  Jordan dropped her head to his now warm chest and watched her fingers, pale and delicate, move over his length. Then with a confused growl, she shifted her head to look at him.

  “Explain,” she demanded.

  “I had an…Encounter.” He said it as if he was confessing he’d had sex with a goat on national television. The horror and shame in his voice were echoed in his eyes. “The gal claimed to be a witch. I, misguidedly, laughed at her beliefs. So she cursed me.”

  Of all the stories she might have imagined, that one was nowhere on the list. Curses? Jordan couldn’t laugh at him, not with him sporting that serious, hound-dog-that’s-been-kicked look in his eyes. But she had to ask, “Um, cursed you how?”

  “Let’s just say things get a little, ah, flimsy when push comes to shove.”

  Jordan’s lips twitched. Even Sebastian looked amused, a glint of laughter shining in his eyes when he saw she wasn’t going to tear into him.

  There was nothing flimsy about the hard, throbbing flesh under her fingers. Jordan was torn between the desire to find that bitch and tear her hair out and pull Sebastian close to comfort him for the obvious emotional stress he’d been under.

  And for being a gullible—if adorable—sucker.

  “You know, the power of suggestion can be a wicked influence.” She caught the look on his face and stopped right there. Oops, bumping up against the naked male ego with a cattle prod probably wasn’t smart.

  “Are you saying it’s all in my head?”

  The jokes danced through her brain at the speed of light, but given that she had her hand full and didn’t want to let go, she just shook her head.

  “Of course not.”

  His chin jutted out almost as stiff as the flesh beneath her fingers. Jordan recognized that look. All her years of compromise came to the fore. Excitement curled in a tight coil in her belly. Not just at the idea of doing what she had in mind. But at the concept of her being the one to help him. Her, Little Ms. Nobody, rescuing the Golden Boy.

  “Well, maybe, just maybe,” she said in a soft teasing tone as she tiptoed the fingers of her free hand up his chest, “I can help.”

  “Look, Jordan—”

  “You tried to help me, it’s the least I can do for you,” she said, leaning forward to press wet, openmouthed kisses to his chest. He shuddered, his dick swelling encouragingly.

  She traced a gentle, teasing trail over the broad width of his shoulder then down to the tempting hardness of his biceps. Her body reacted in delicious wet enthusiasm to the hard feel of his muscles—all of them.

  “But you said my help sucked,” he said in a strangled tone.

  “Turnabout is fair play, then, isn’t it?” she teased, dropping to her knees in front of him. “I’ll just have to make sure mine sucks, too.”

  His laugh cut off when her lips wrapped around the velvet head of his cock. He groaned, sinking his fingers into her hair as if he was holding on for dear life. More empowered than she’d ever felt before in her life, Jordan tossed aside all ideas of technique, what she should do, whether he’d like it or not, and just gave herself over to the movement.

  Despite her fondling, his flesh was still chilly from his icy swim. Her lips slid, then sucked, alternating in a way that he obviously liked given his rapid breathing and how he was kneading his fingers in her hair.

  He tasted so damned good. Jordan sucked, then with a gentle teasing motion, ran her teeth along the length of his glistening dick. He swelled appreciably.

  God, she wondered, just how much bigger could he get. And how fun was it going to be to find out?

  Wanting, needing, more, she pressed against his thighs. Ever the smart guy, Sebastian got the message instantly and dropped to the floor, lying back on the cool tiles and tugging on her hand to pull her up to him. Jordan shook her head.

  “I’m not finished,” she said with a saucy look. Jordan didn’t plan to stop until she’d proved to Sebastian once and for all that there was no curse and that he was perfectly capable of giving her the incredible sex she wanted from him.

  HE GRINNED AT JORDAN as she kneeled over him. He was torn between a groan and laughter at the wicked look of chastisement on her gorgeous face. Her lips were swollen and damp, proof that she’d been having quite a good time down south. Her breasts swayed in that sexy purple bra as she knelt between his outstretched legs. He needed to touch her. Wanted to feel her. Had to have her.

  And then her lips were on him again. A lesser man would have cried in gratitude, it felt so damned good. She was so damned good. She pulled his dick deep into her mouth, the hot, wet suction making him clench his fists, raise his hips off the floor.He couldn’t remember feeling this good. Ever. Hell, in the last two weeks, he’d never lasted this long. The first hint of pleasure and wee willie winkie shriveled.

  But this time? He was hard as a rock and still going strong. Was it Jordan? Was it the curse playing a cruel new trick, getting his hopes up only to dash them? Who cared, all that mattered was that he enjoy it as much as possible.

  With that in mind, Sebastian grabbed her shoulders and tugged, pulling her up over him. Holding one hand behind her neck, he kissed her with all the pent-up passion and power he’d been missing.

  Then he rolled. Her gasp echoed across the kitchen. He tugged, ripping her panties away. Too impatient to play nice, he shifted to his knees and grabbed her thighs, lifting her so her butt was a foot or so off the ground, her weight anchored at her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” he breathed, not sure if he was apologizing for his lack of finesse, his sucky foreplay or the desperate speed in which he was moving. Probably all of the above.

  Then she smiled at him. A sensual stretch of her lips that said she was right there with him, any way, any speed he wanted to go. She ran her hands down his back, then, with a wicked grin, smacked his butt in a “let’s rock” motion.

  Her absolute confidence that he could rock, despite his confession, made Sebastian’s dick harden even more. His body taut, his emotions as tight as a banjo string, he poised over her.

  God, he didn’t know what scared him more. That he’d plunge and find out he’d shriveled to nothing. Or that it’d work and he’d find out that Jordan really was the woman of his dreams.

  Never one to avoid the truth, Sebastian held his breath, gathered her hands in his and stretched them up, over her head. Her breasts lifted, the full pillows pale and enticing against the vivid purple of her bra. He leaned down, tracing his tongue over the edge of the lace. Her moan of pleasure rang in his ears.

  And he plunged. Dick rock hard, he drove himself into the heated warm welcome of Jordan’s body. He could have cried, it felt so incredible.

  Her body gripped his, squeezing as he thrust into her. She met every stroke with a twisting little shimmy. Sebastian’s vision blurred, his brain shut off. He was pure sensation.

  Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. He silently chanted the prayer, and damned if it wasn’t exactly that, as he pumped into the glorious wonder that was Jordan’s body.

  His chant setting the rhythm of his thrusts, his eyes locked with Jordan’s, watching the passion flame and build in her dark gaze.

  Sweat beaded his upper lip, his muscles quivered as he held himself steady, his arms locked, hands splayed across the tile floor. Even his shocked excitement over being able to do it, so to speak, wasn’t enough to distract him from the incredible intensity building between him and Jordan. Looking into her eyes while driving thankfully into her body was the most intimate act he’d ever experienced.

  Then her gaze clouded. Passion tightened her features as she sucked in her bottom lip.

  Sebastian thrust harder. Faster. Her hips undulated, her breath came in mewling little gasps. He recognized the signs from last night. His moves grew more intense. He focused, with every fiber of his being, on bringing her over that sweet edge of pleasure.

  Her breath came in faster. He trembled. Passion tightened to a painful pitch. Jordan’s thighs gripped him, her bod
y going taut as she arched up, nails digging into his shoulders. His vision went black around the edges, the power of his orgasm ripping through him like a tornado. With a guttural cry, Sebastian poured himself into her. His essence, his heart, his joy.

  Then he collapsed, just aware enough to roll to the side as he dropped to the floor beside Jordan, wrapping one arm tight around her waist to keep her close.

  “Well,” she said a few minutes later after gulping in a few lungfuls of air, “I’d say you were wrong.”

  “Huh?”

  “You most definitely could make love with me…and quite nicely, too.”

  She lifted her head from his chest to offer a naughty little smile. Satisfaction gave her an ethereal glow. It was almost magical.

  And Sebastian, of all people, now recognized the true value of magic. And just how damned scary it really was.

  He looked into her eyes, noting the easy humor and sweet contentment in those dark depths.

  Like falling in love.

  Crazy, but he knew it was true. And because it was, he trusted her. So he told her everything. Even about his unsuccessful attempts to cure himself.

  He kept talking despite her snort of laughter over the spanking incident. Then he came to the part about today.

  “So what are you saying?” she asked, a frown creasing her brow. “That because you, what? Trusted me? That’s what it took to break the curse?”

  Sebastian opened his mouth, then shut it. Despite his position on the floor, her body draped perfectly over his, he shrugged. He hadn’t made that connection yet. Leave it to Jordan to see right to the heart of the situation.

  “I see trust is a foreign concept to you,” she teased.

  “Not foreign. Just not one I’m overly familiar with.” Then he gazed into her eyes. “I think it could grow on me, though.”

  Her smile touched his heart. Then she patted his face, and with a quick kiss, launched herself to her feet.

  With a glance down at her body, naked but for her bra, color tinged her cheeks. But she just shrugged and said, “How about I find some clothes and meet you back here in ten minutes? I’m suddenly starving.”

  Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and practically skipped from the room. Sebastian grinned at the difference in her demeanor from what he was used to around the office. He’d love to credit it to his amazing sexual prowess, but even his ego couldn’t condone that. After all, his prowess had consisted of not fizzling.

  This time. Next round, he’d really give her something to skip about. But first, some dry clothes.

  Sebastian was back in the kitchen within fifteen minutes, still buttoning his dry shirt. But Jordan wasn’t there. She had, bless her heart, put on a pot of coffee. No longer worried about the effects of caffeine on his libido, Sebastian helped himself to a large cup. After all, with Jordan around he figured he’d never have a sexual problem again. Except for how hard it was going to be having to wait until he could make love with her again.

  He’d finally found her. That mythical woman he could have fun with, talk seriously to, and most of all, trust. He’d had variations of the first two. But she was right, he’d never had the latter.

  But Jordan? He’d trusted her with his biggest, darkest, most potentially humiliating secret. And what’d she done?

  Broken his curse.

  Just as he was contemplating which way and where he’d like that next fun encounter to happen, a loud chime got his attention. He glanced over and saw her laptop, open on the bar. Outlook was set to preview, so the e-mail was big and clear in size fourteen Lucinda.

  He was snickering over Jordan’s huge girly font when he noticed what the actual words said.

  From Garret. About the column. His smile in place, he skimmed the first paragraph and damn near whooped aloud. She’d done it. She’d scored the column.

  Sebastian didn’t even feel a prick of regret as he happily kissed the income bump and challenge of a regular column goodbye. He was thrilled for Jordan, she deserved this. In so many ways.

  Then his eyes dropped to the last paragraph.

  “I didn’t know you had it in you,” it said. “When he finds out, he’s going to be pissed. I hope you can handle the backlash. No second thoughts, though. I’ve already spread the word, so you’re committed.”

  Spread the word? Sebastian’s frown deepened. He who? And pissed about what? Gossip? What, exactly, was the column she’d turned in?

  Had she sold him out? Spilled his ugly secret? Gossiped about his past?

  Mentally, Sebastian’s entire world was crumbling. He ignored the misery that ripped through his belly at the idea of her selling him out.

  He told himself he didn’t care that his reputation as a lover might be shredded. In an ironic thanks to Jordan, he could easily disprove it. But if she went around telling people he thought he’d been cursed? He’d be finished as a journalist. His credibility would be shot and his gullibility a joke.

  But this was Jordan. Why would she use him? How? Then he recalled the convenience of her appearance here at the cabin. And her lack of a vehicle to leave in.

  Defenses honed on the streets and in the competitive magazine industry screamed a warning. Oh, yeah, she’d used him. Any doubts were erased when he remembered the gorgeous, body-stirring sight of her dropping that damned red towel.

  “How about some homemade cinnamon rolls with that coffee,” Jordan suggested in a cheery tone as she came into the room, her arms filled with a large sugar canister and a bag of pecans. “It’ll take a couple hours for the dough to rise, but I’m betting we can find something to do while we wait.”

  She flashed him a teasing smile. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said her heart was there, clear to see, in her eyes.

  He thought of how sweet she’d been. Of how she’d listened, hadn’t judged or mocked. How she’d taught him how to make love, how to break the curse. How to put a woman first.

  He wanted to believe it was all true.

  But he had an e-mail to prove that he actually didn’t know jack.

  9

  “WHY DON’T WE TALK about that column of yours while we wait,” Sebastian suggested.

  Jordan pulled a face. She’d much rather get naked again. “What about the column? You have some advice to help me steal it out from under you?”She shot him a teasing look, setting her cinnamon roll fixings on the counter. She opened a cabinet door and pulled out the commercial-grade food processor to start the dough, then glanced back at Sebastian.

  He wasn’t smiling. Actually, he wasn’t looking anything like a guy who’d got lucky—both sexually and in terms of curse-breaking—on the very floor on which he was standing.

  Nerves fluttered. Jordan shooed them away.

  “What’s up?” she asked. Then, unable to hold back her pitiful paranoia, she blurted out, “Did the sex not live up to your expectations?”

  His eyes rounded, a flash of what might have been shame and worry lighting them before he shook his head.

  “This has nothing to do with sex,” he told her quietly, “and everything to do with your need for approval.”

  “I’d say I was more interested in your body than your approval,” she joked. He just stared. The nerves settled, big and ugly, in her belly. “Okay, fine, why don’t you tell me what the issue is here? What are you talking about?”

  “I was just thinking. You’ve really done a lot to get your father’s attention, haven’t you?”

  Not something she was thrilled about, but neither was she ashamed. It wasn’t as if her father’s attention was black market contraband. Jordan scanned his face, but couldn’t figure out where this was headed. Needing to do something with her hands, she started measuring flour for the dough.

  “In truth, I’ve been seeking his approval more than his attention,” she said with a shrug, adding milk to the mixer and pushing Pulse while she melted butter in the microwave. “And only when it comes to my career. If I really wanted his attention, I’d have done somet
hing crazy a long time ago. Like date you.”

  She laughed and looked up from the mixer to share a wide, teasing grin. Only he wasn’t smiling. Instead he was standing there, radiating judgmental attitude with an arrogant look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I asked you already, what’s the problem?” she prodded. “Obviously something is. Does sex always make you this pissy?”

  “Only when it’s sex with a purpose.”

  “Purpose? Like what?”

  “You used me,” he snapped, his words fast and furious.

  She had no idea what was going on. The nerves that’d settled in her stomach took on a sharp, edgy bite. Added to that, she was getting a little annoyed that he was so thoroughly ruining her happy sexual afterglow.

  Obviously reason wasn’t going to work with Sebastian, though. So she went for snark.

  “Wasn’t that a mutual using there on the floor?”

  “You’re trying to deny that you used me?” he challenged sarcastically.

  “I categorically deny it,” she shot back, hands fisted on her hips.

  “Okay, sure. So suddenly, right after we…” He trailed off, his jaw clenching as if he was biting back ugly words. Then he shook his head and glared. “Just like that, you snagged the column?”

  “After we what? Talked? Bumped uglies? How good do you think you are?” she asked. “Do you think I stole a little of your magical mojo or something?”

  Then the rest of his words sank in. Jordan’s anger dimmed as confusion washed through her. “I got the column? How would you know that?”

  “Garret e-mailed.”

  “You?”

  Sebastian winced. Then he just shrugged and gestured to her laptop.

  “Your laptop was open.”

  She glanced over at the laptop in question on the dining room bar, then back at Sebastian. “You read my private e-mail?”

  “You used me,” he accused, skipping right over his own misdemeanor. “Was it all planned out, Jordan? Did your dad tell you he’d offered me the cabin this weekend, so you scurried up here to seduce me?”