Tempting Tanya (NSFW Book 3) Page 8

  She released my waist and stared up at me in shock. “He told you about that?”

  I nodded, confused by her obvious reaction.

  Then she smiled brilliantly. “Oh, Tanya, you aren’t going to understand this now, but I’ve just decided I love you.” She took my hand and squeezed it tightly. “You have no idea, dear, no idea, how much it means to me that he found you.” Before I could respond, she blinked her damp eyes and turned to Jordan. “You had better call me this week. I realize you’ve got a lovely woman in your life now, but I would still like to hear your voice from time to time.”

  Jordan grinned and nodded, enfolding Joyce in a hug.

  “Tanya,” my dad murmured.

  I turned away from the sweet sight of Jordan embracing his aunt and hugged my dad. “Did you enjoy brunch, Dad?” I asked.

  “I did,” he replied. “I enjoyed meeting Jordan more. He seems like a good man.”

  “He is,” I declared softly.

  “Good,” my father said, squeezing me tighter. “My girl deserves a good man. I was beginning to worry you’d stopped looking for one.”

  I laughed softly. “Well, you’re a hard act to follow.”

  He released me and shook his head. “Smartass,” he teased.

  Shrugging, I replied, “I learned from the best.”

  “I know you’re not talking about me,” he scoffed.

  “You’re right, I’m not. I’m talking about Tessa.”

  He laughed. “I’ll see you both on Thursday.”

  The final goodbyes were shared and Jordan helped me into the car that the valet had pulled around while we were all talking.

  As we drove away, I turned to him. “I think that went well.”

  “It did.”

  “I think my dad likes you,” I continued, wondering why he suddenly seemed so distracted.

  “I think he likes Joyce more,” he muttered in response.

  I couldn’t help it. I had to laugh.

  “She handled it well,” I teased.

  “That’s what worries me,” Jordan stated. “It was obvious she likes your father as well.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Only if they get married. Then it would be awkward,” he stated.

  “I think it’s a little early to be talking marriage,” I argued.

  He grinned at me. “You’re right. Let’s give it a week.”

  “How about we change the subject?” I suggested, a bit of bite in my tone.

  Jordan laughed and took my hand, lacing our fingers together before resting our joined palms on his thigh.

  “As you wish.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  It happened that night.

  By it, I mean something that shifted our relationship completely and in an unexpected way.

  When we arrived back at my townhouse after brunch, Jordan grabbed me. “Now I can show you how I feel about this dress,” he whispered in my ear.

  I shivered as he carried me to the couch.

  From his words, I expected him to be demanding, raw, and maybe even a little wild. Instead, his hands moved over me with deliberate slowness, his touch sure but nearly reverent.

  Jordan laid me back on the couch, his palms cupping the nape of my neck and his thumbs running down the sides of my throat from my jaw to my collarbones. I stared up at him as he knelt at my feet, his hands moving over my torso, down to my hips, thighs, and finally stopping at my knees.

  He unzipped the gray suede boots I wore and set them on the floor, each motion efficient and with intent. Then his hands returned to my legs, sliding up my calves to my thighs until his fingers hooked around the lacy edge of my thigh highs.

  I watched as he rolled the sheer material down my leg, his eyes following the movement of his hands and the skin revealed. When he tossed both thigh highs on the coffee table, I wanted to sit up, to reach for him, but I was entranced by the look in his eyes as they drifted over me.

  As it had been two years ago, our passion for each other burned bright and hot, so we came together frequently and often urgently. Other times, we were languid, exploring each other’s bodies leisurely.

  But this was different.

  I sensed that Jordan was revealing something important to me, using his body to share his emotions. Though he could wield words as weapons, with both wit and acid, I was discovering that Jordan Hawke was at his most eloquent when he allowed his actions to speak for him.

  I lay still as he unfastened the waist of the wrap dress, drawing each side apart to reveal my body. With the palm of one hand, he traced a line from my sternum, down between my breasts, over my belly, to the top edge of my panties. Once again, his eyes followed the motion of his hand closely. Beneath the heat and weight of his palm, my heart began to pound, my body responding to the statement he made with his touch.

  Jordan stripped me bare, removing far more than my clothes. He broke down the last of the barriers I’d erected around my heart and soul. He began to remove his own clothes and I sat up, reaching out to touch and taste each part he revealed.

  Without urgency, he pulled me into him, our bodies pressed together from shoulder to knee and kissed me. As one kiss blended into the next, his hands brought my body to life, finding every erogenous zone I possessed, even a few that surprised me.

  When we were both naked and moving together, I tucked my face into his throat, pressing my lips to his skin. Each thrust, every stroke, reached a part of me I’d long since buried. As I came, our gazes locked, his blue eyes burning beneath the heavy lids. Neither of us looked away, even when it was over and we were both breathing heavily and damp with sweat.

  I understood then what he was telling me, what he was giving me. This beautiful, complex man feared being vulnerable as much as I did. Probably more so. It was one of the many traits we shared, but also the one that could most easily tear us apart if we let it.

  It was time to stop letting fear hobble me. It didn’t matter if things worked out or not because what we had right now was worth fighting for.

  Combing my fingers through his dark hair, I whispered, “I love you.”

  Jordan’s forehead touched mine and he closed his eyes, his body relaxing into mine. “I love you too,” he replied, his arms wrapping around me as he rolled onto his side. I could feel his heart beating hard against mine and understood that saying those words hadn’t been easy for him, just as they hadn’t been easy for me.

  To my surprise, he admitted as much. “It will get easier to say if we practice,” he stated quietly, tucking my face against his chest.

  “Probably,” I agreed. “You go first this time.”

  I felt and heard his laughter against my ear. “You’re never going to make things easy for me, are you?”

  Tilting my head back so I could meet his gaze, I declared, “You’d be bored stiff if I made things easy for you.”

  “That’s true,” he admitted. Then he released me, rolled off the couch, and tugged me to my feet. “We’re both hot and sweaty, let’s take a bath.”

  The gleam in his eye said bathing would be the last thing on the agenda since my bathtub was big enough for two and jetted. Curious as to how creative he could get in the water, I grinned and asked, “Care to wash my back?”

  Laughing he pulled me toward the hall. “At your service.”

  Later that night, Jordan and I lay in bed, naked and replete. My cheek rested on his shoulder and my hand lay over his heart so I could feel and see the steady thump of his heart.

  Two years ago, I never would have let myself imagine that Jordan would love me in return, but today he’d said the words. I still couldn’t believe I’d had the courage to speak them first. I hadn’t told a man I loved him since my early twenties. It was more difficult than I remembered. Three one syllable words shouldn’t be so hard to say aloud.

  But they were three words with the power to change a person’s life.

  They carried a great deal of weight considering their diminutive size individually.<
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  “Joyce likes you,” Jordan stated quietly.

  “Does she?” I asked, forcing my voice to sound casual.

  Jordan’s arm was beneath me, his hand curved over my shoulder. He swept his palm up and down my upper arm in a slow motion. “Yes. In fact, she told me that I was disowned if I screwed up with you.”

  I twisted to look at his face. “Really?”

  He grinned at me. “You don’t have to look so pleased about it.”

  Smiling back, I retorted, “Maybe she’ll adopt me.”

  “Only if you marry me,” he replied.

  My body stilled at his words. I think my heart even stopped beating for a split second. “Marry you?”

  His grin morphed into a bold laugh. A laugh he rarely shared. “Now you look terrified. It wasn’t a proposal, merely a statement.”

  I hated the fact that he could read me so well when others couldn’t. My poker face took a permanent vacation around Jordan. My sister would be incredibly pleased.

  I turned my head back and laid it on his shoulder once again. “That wasn’t terror. More like shock. I thought you wanted to be George Clooney and remain a bachelor forever.”

  “Ah, but George Clooney got married,” he pointed out, immediately pouncing on the flaw in my statement.

  “Yes, after he turned fifty,” I shot back.

  Jordan’s arm tightened around me as he continued to laugh. As strange as this conversation was, I enjoyed hearing his uninhibited laughter.

  “Don’t worry, Tanya. I won’t wait fifteen years to ask you to marry me.”

  “We’ve barely been dating three weeks, so I think it might be a bit early to talk marriage,” I stated, hoping that it would stop further discussion on the topic. “Maybe we should shelve it for a few months.”

  Jordan merely laughed harder before he replied, “But if you count the six months we dated before I left for New York, now is about the time couples begin talking about the future. Especially when they’re our age.”

  Unable to remain still, I sat up and twisted to face him, clutching the sheet to my chest. “We didn’t date before. We were having a casual fling.”

  Jordan’s grin didn’t fade. In fact, his expression grew absolutely wicked. “As I recall we did have a lot of sex, but I also took you to dinner and the movies a few times. I think that qualifies as dating.”

  As an attorney, I should have had a ready argument, but I didn’t. Mostly because I didn’t want to argue. I was too busy trying to breathe. Jordan had never seen our relationship as casual, even two years ago.

  Yet he still left me.

  “Tanya?”

  I realized I was staring at him without seeing him and refocused on the moment.

  “What just happened?” he asked.

  “You didn’t consider what we had casual? Ever?”

  Shrugging one shoulder, he answered, “Maybe the first month or so, then I realized I liked spending time with you and you seemed to feel the same.”

  “But you left for New York anyway,” I muttered. “So our relationship or whatever you want to call it couldn’t have been that important to you.”

  How could it feel as though my heart was breaking all over again when he was lying beside me in my bed?

  Jordan’s smile faded completely and he sat up, leaning back against the headboard. “It was, Tanya. But it didn’t seem as important to you.”

  Yes, yes, my heart was breaking all over again. I could feel it cracking beneath his words.

  “We had an agreement,” I whispered, no longer able to maintain eye contact. I stared at the wall over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you because I knew you had the power to break my heart beyond repair.”

  “Look at me.” His words were a command, firm but soft.

  I forced my eyes to his even though I was afraid. I wasn’t frightened of what I would see in his face, but what he would read in mine.

  “But I broke your heart anyway, didn’t I?” he asked.

  I couldn’t answer that question. It revealed too much. The answer divulged how weak I truly was. Too weak to even admit that I loved someone because I feared they didn’t feel the same way. Too frightened to ask him to stay.

  “Christ, Tanya.” He leaned forward and pulled me against him, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “I wish you had told me.”

  I closed my eyes at the pain in his words and the answering ache in my heart. “I couldn’t. You frightened me. Sometimes you still do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you make me feel too much, Jordan. I don’t know what to do with those emotions, or even how to share them. It’s overwhelming and out of my control.”

  “Love is about losing control, Tanya. About giving a piece of yourself to someone, the most important piece, and trusting them to cherish it.”

  “I don’t think you understand how difficult it is for me,” I mumbled.

  “I do,” he responded. “Because it’s just as difficult for me. That’s why I left two years ago. I didn’t know you felt anything for me other than lust and I knew that things would end badly if I stayed. At least for me. I never gave you my heart because I thought you would hand it right back to me.”

  My eyes opened then. “So we wasted two years,” I declared.

  He pushed me away slightly, cupping my face and tilting it toward his. “I don’t think we did. Neither of us was ready to let go of our fears then. I think we needed the time apart to realize that it was a mistake.”

  He was right. By losing him, I learned that my fear wasn’t worth the heartbreak or loneliness of refuting my love for him.

  “God, if Milton Buck hadn’t offered you the partnership, you might never have come back,” I stated.

  To my shock, Jordan threw back his head and laughed. “I intended to come back regardless. When Milton offered me the position at your firm, I took it because I knew I would need a way to get close to you.”

  “So you came back for me?” I asked.

  “I came back for you.”

  I burrowed closer to him, all the things we’d just shared tumbling around in my mind. I’d bared myself to him and instead of causing me more pain it had eased it.

  “I don’t want to fuck this up,” I admitted. “But I’m worried I will.”

  Jordan pressed a kiss to my hair. “I won’t let you.”

  Beneath the contentment and happiness his words evoked, I felt the sharp, hard seed of fear, biding its time and waiting to bloom.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Joyce Hawke was true to her promise to call me. Monday morning, as I sipped coffee at my desk, my cell phone rang.

  When I answered, she greeted me cheerfully. “Tanya dear! Please tell me you’re free for lunch sometime this week. I so enjoyed talking to you at brunch. I’d like a chance to get to know you better.”

  Warmth bloomed in my chest at her words. Not only was I relieved that she liked me, I was happy that I felt the same way. I wanted to get to know her better, especially after my conversation with Jordan this weekend.

  “Hi, Joyce. I really liked talking to you as well and I’m free every day except Wednesday,” I replied. “So you tell me which day works best for you.”

  “Wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Let’s meet today. I’ll come downtown and take you to this wonderful little restaurant I found a few years ago. Will twelve-thirty work for you?”

  I glanced at the schedule on my desk. “Could we push it until one? I have a meeting that might run long.”

  “Perfect! I’ll meet you at your office at one.”

  “That sounds great, Joyce. See you then.”

  “Bye, Tanya!”

  Smiling, I disconnected the call and settled in to work.

  At one o’clock, I stepped off the elevator in the lobby and immediately saw Joyce standing next to the metal sculpture that had recently been installed. She was staring up at it with apparent consternation.

  I approached her and asked, “Something wrong?”
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br />   “Hmmm,” she shot me a distracted glance then a wide smile spread across her face. “Oh, sorry. I was trying to decide if this was supposed to represent a giant ant or invasion of the stick people.”

  I laughed with her as I considered the sculpture with new eyes. “I never noticed but it does resemble them both.”

  “Well, abstract metal art aside, are you hungry?” she asked, hooking her arm through mine.

  “Starving,” I admitted.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Ten minutes later, we were seated at a tiny table in an Italian restaurant that I hadn’t realized existed. The air was heavy with the scent of garlic and yeasty bread and the walls were covered with dark wood paneling and framed photos. It was essentially a hole in the wall but perfect. Though most of the tables were filled, it wasn’t loud. There was the random clink of silverware and the occasional burst of laughter, but the hum of conversation was low and almost soothing.

  “I like this place already,” I told Joyce as we opened our menus. “If the food is half as good as it smells, I’ll have to come here all the time.”

  Joyce smiled at me. “It’s better.”

  “I’m going to end up needing a nap after lunch then,” I joked.

  We ordered drinks and entrees. As our server walked away, Joyce turned and studied me.

  “I’m so pleased my nephew met you. He mentioned that you two dated a couple of years ago but you both decided it was best to end the relationship when he left for New York. I’m glad you reconnected when he came back.”

  Unsure of exactly how much information Jordan had shared, I nodded. “Me too.”

  Joyce leaned closer. “No, Tanya. I don’t think you understand. I’m sure by now you’ve realized that my nephew is not the most demonstrative man, but I have not heard him laugh the way he does with you in over twenty-five years. The last time I’d seen him so open and affectionate was the summer before his parents died.”

  “Joyce, I’m not sure we should be discussing Jordan like this. His past is something he should share when he’s ready.”