Defeated, her shoulders slumped forward. “I deserved that.”
“I couldn’t help myself.” I watched in a hypnotic trance as her tongue sneaked out and teased her lower lip. It was the perfect moment for a kiss, but the line had been . . . skewed. I wasn’t sure if it was okay, in the privacy of my apartment, to actually kiss her. I mean, I’d kissed her, but this felt different, more intimate.
“This is the part”—Jordan leaned forward and gripped my shirt with both hands—“where you either kiss me or cough awkwardly, make an excuse, scratch your balls, and cower back in your bedroom.”
“Wow, so many choices,” I mused, meeting her halfway. “Eenie, meenie, minie—” Our mouths met in a frenzy. She tasted like wine and pizza.
Holy shit, it was hotter than it should have been.
My hands moved to her hips as I tried to pull her onto my lap. But her skirt was too tight.
“Damn it.” I tugged harder and heard a split.
Jordan reared back. “Did you just rip my skirt?”
“Small tear.”
“Rip.”
“No.” I gripped the fabric until it gave with a scratchy tearing sound. “That’s a rip.” With a grin I tossed the discarded remains onto the ground.
Jordan stared at the skirt for a few seconds before wrapping her legs around my torso and fusing her mouth with mine. “You owe me a skirt.”
“Can I rip you out of that one too?”
She laughed against my mouth. I stood, lifting her with me, and walked her backward toward my bedroom.
We looked good. She was half-naked, sexy, I was carrying her around like a badass, and then things went . . . south.
And not a good south.
“Watch out for my shoes—”
I tripped over two spiked heels, sending Jordan flying into the wall. She slid down said wall and landed on the plant—yes, THE plant, the one she’d kept alive for all those years.
“My plant!” she yelled. I burst out laughing as remnants of dirt and plant sifted through her hands. “YOU KILLED IT!”
“Whoa!” I held up my hands and backed up, tripping over the damn shoes again and stumbling to the floor.
I shit you not, Jordan giddyup crawled toward me, faster than lightning, straddled me, and started fighting.
“We’ll get you a new plant!” I yelled as she smacked my chest. I gripped her wrists and flipped her onto her back. “Don’t you think—”
She bucked beneath me.
“—it was probably time to let the plant go? You know, cut the apron strings!”
“It’s not my child!” she wheezed, tuckering herself out.
“Exactly.” I nodded, then released her hand and patted her cheek.
Her eyes went wild.
“Shh . . .” I braced myself over her. “This is my favorite part.”
“Me killing you?” she heaved.
“No.” I licked the seam of her lips even though she fought me every way. “Foreplay.”
“Sorry, plant killing wasn’t in the Kama Sutra, Reid!”
“Yeah it was, right next to spanking. Trust me, I bookmarked the page,” I joked.
She tried to get me off her again.
“Won’t work.” I fake yawned then kissed her neck. “Besides, I have you right where I want you. Forget the bedroom. I do my best work in the hallway anyway.”
“So now I’m work?” she challenged.
“No, baby . . . this is all play.” With that, I tugged her lower lip with my teeth, released her hands, and ripped open her shirt. Buttons went flying, joining the plant, the shoes, the skirt.
Her body was all lush skin and curves. I’d never been with anyone who looked as perfect as her—wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to go back to skinny malnourished models when I had a real woman beneath me, one who had breasts that filled my hands, an ass that I could grip, a lip I could bite.
I moaned.
Jordan’s body responded to my every single touch and caress.
“Now I know why you’ve never had to ask a girl on a date.” She hooked her legs around me and wrapped her arms around my neck, her tongue intertwining with mine, sucking, so. Damn. Hard that I couldn’t help but keep moaning. The things that woman could do with her mouth.
I deepened the kiss, my hands reaching for the clasp of her bra. I flicked it off. Jordan immediately froze. Her hands quickly covered her breasts.
“What are you doing?” I tried prying her hands free.
“Too fast.” She nodded, her cheeks staining with color. “You know for our, uh, date night.”
“Move your hands.”
“No.”
“Jordan.”
“Reid.” She laughed nervously.
“Fine.” I nodded. “I didn’t want to have to do this.”
Jordan frowned.
I raised my hand.
She frowned harder.
I flipped her onto her stomach and slapped her ass. Hard.
“WHAT are you doing?” she yelled.
“Why, sweetheart . . .” I kissed her ear. “I’m taming.”
“The hell you are!”
“You like it.” Another swat. “And I’m barely spanking you, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Cover them up again and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“But—”
I flipped her back around. “But what?” I honestly wanted to know why a girl that gorgeous would cover up.
“It’s just that—” Jordan chewed her lower lip. “I’m the lights-off girl.”