Page 13

Jordan

“ H oney, I’m home!” Sutton shouts as soon as she waltzes through the front door after work, a smile in her voice.

“Come to the kitchen!” I demand, flicking the lighter to quickly light the last of the candles situated in the center of the table. The wick catches with a spark, igniting. I shove the lighter into my pocket and then turn, placing my body between the entryway and the table.

I’m nervous as hell…which is ridiculous. It’s just dinner. But it feels like a helluva lot more. It’s me, cooking for her. It’s me, taking care of her. The same damn way I’ve always wanted to do.

I think I’ve spent as much time fantasizing about simple shit like this as I have about fucking her over the years.

About coming home to her, or her coming home to me.

About cooking her meals and watching movies with her.

Holding her hand in public. Laughing with her.

Listening to her ramble about her day, or falling asleep with her in my arms.

I want all of it, and I don’t want to wait. So, I’m not waiting anymore. I said what I needed to say to Jamison yesterday. He knows about the two of us. We’re not hiding. As far as I’m concerned, I’m fucking done with him.

If he’s worthy of her at all, he’ll take my advice and back the fuck off. He’ll do right by her. But I’m not worrying about it right now. I’m focused on her. I’m focusing on us and the chance we never had.

She sashays into the room like a goddess, her hair up in a bun, that damn pencil skirt and modest blouse skimming her curves.

She looks so demure and put together, so professional.

And I want to wreck her all over again, leave her dripping sweat and cum until she doesn’t remember anything but pleasure.

“Hey, handsome.” The bright smile on her face is as fucking sexy as her modest little outfit. She’s a knockout, effortlessly gorgeous. “What smells so good?”

“Dinner.” I stride toward her, tugging her into my arms to kiss the lipstick from her lips. I don’t let up until neither of us can breath, and she’s squirming against me.

“Damn,” she hums, a blissful expression on her face. “A girl could get used to coming home to this.”

“You should get used to it.” I nip the side of her throat, palming her round ass. “I intend to spoil the hell out of you, princess.”

“Oh yeah?” Her eyes flutter open, locking with mine. “I might just hold you to that, Jordan.”

I tip her head back, kissing her again. “Don’t need you to hold me to it. It used to piss me the fuck off that I couldn’t do the shit for you that I wanted to do. Now, I can so I am.”

Her sweet smile hits me right in the heart. Does she have any idea that I never stopped loving her? That the feelings are only growing by the day? By the hour? Back then, I tried like hell to rein them in. I thought it’s what I had to do. Now, though? Well, there isn’t a goddamn thing stopping me.

“Come eat, princess.” I catch her fingers in mine, stepping out of her way. Her gaze falls on the table, a tiny gasp falling from her lips.

“Jordan,” she whispers, staring in awe. “You did all of this for me?”

“Told you that I intend to spoil you, princess.” I cup her cheek, brushing my thumb across her lips. “What part of that didn’t you hear?”

“I just…” She shakes her head like she’s in disbelief. “You’re full of surprises, Jordan Silvestri.”

“You mean because I’m supposed to be an asshole?

“Well…I mean…” She gives me a cheeky grin.

I chuckle, leading her toward the table. I don’t let her sit, though. Instead, I pull her down onto my lap. It’s where she belongs.

Her gaze runs over the table again…all of her favorites. It lingers on the massive piece of German chocolate cake with cherries on the side. “You remembered,” she says softly.

“Yeah, I remembered.” I touch my lips to her throat. “I never forgot a damn thing about you, Sutton. You’ve haunted me for five years.”

She turns those wide eyes on me as I pull a plate toward us and start loading it up.

“You haunted me, too,” she whispers. “I, um…I used to tell myself that I only looked you up to make sure you weren’t causing problems, but it was a lie.

I looked you up constantly, just to feel close to you. Just because I couldn’t let you go.”

I groan softly, flipping my arm over to reveal the Ferris wheel tattoo hidden on my forearm. “I got this for you.”

“The carnival,” she whispers, reaching out to run one fingertip across the lines of ink.

“It took everything I had not to kiss you in that bucket that night,” I murmur.

“I wanted you to do it.” She licks her lips, looking up at me. “So damn bad. It was the whole reason I begged you to ride it with me. I was going to kiss you when we got to the top.”

I groan quietly, curling my fingers around hers. Neither of us mentions why that didn’t happen. Vanessa convinced Jamison to get on the ride at the last minute. They ended up in the bucket right beside ours, able to see everything we did.

But up there that night? With the wind blowing in her hair and the sky around us? It still felt like it was just the two of us. I wanted to stay there with her. Instead, we finished the ride and got off. Two weeks later, the whole fucking world came crashing down around us.

I’ve thought about that night a thousand times over the years, wondering how things might have been different if I had kissed her.

“You’ll just have to make it up to me,” she says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. A redo.”

“I can make that happen, princess.”

She grins, happy in a way that looks too fucking good on her. I can’t resist pulling her into another kiss, this one longer, more intense.

“Fuck,” I groan when I break away, panting. “I can’t get enough of that mouth.”

“Well, too bad,” she teases. “You promised me cake. You have to feed me now or I may waste away.”

I chuckle, shaking my head before I finish scooping her favorites onto the plate. She reaches for a fork, but I quickly grab it.

“Let me.”

Her eyes darken, smoldering, as I scoop up a bite of pasta, lifting it to her lips. They close around the fork with her eyes locked on mine.

I chuckle through a groan when she pulls it into her mouth, and her eyes immediately widen. “Holy shit. That’s good.”

“Surprised?”

“Um, yes. I did not know you could cook.”

“I picked up a few skills.”

“Clearly,” she says, impressed.

My dick is hard as a rock against her ass as I feed her another bite, listening to the way she moans as soon as it’s in her mouth. “You’re killing me here, princess.”

Her wicked laugh tells me that’s her plan, but fuck it. Two can play that game. I feed her with one hand and slip the other beneath her skirt, running my fingers up her thigh.

She squirms on my lap, parting her thighs for me.

I don’t give her what she wants so badly, though. Instead, I tease her, touching her everywhere except where she wants me, as I feed her bite after bite. By the time the plate is half empty, she’s a whimpering mess on my lap…and I’m so fucking hard I feel like my dick is going to break in half.

I eat her for dessert while she eats her cake…and break damn near every dish I own when I sweep them off the table to lay her out across it afterward.

She’s the best fucking meal I’ve ever had. I’m pretty sure she agrees.