Authors: Renee Simons
Jordan
’s hands began to dance over his body, echoing the rhythm and movement of their tongues as her body fine tuned to his. Now, he let his hand move lightly, subtly underscoring the rhythm already established, adding another voice to the chorus. She stiffened for a moment then, unable to resist, relaxed against him. He increased the strength of his movements, directing her senses inevitably to the key to all her defenses. She resisted his gentle probe.
"Let me in,
Jordan
, love. Let yourself go, just a little..."
"I'm afraid," she whispered against his neck.
"I know," he murmured. "Just try. If you truly can't, we'll stop. Promise."
Jordan
focused on his hands stroking her trembling thighs, first the outer sides, then the inner. Despite the cold, his touch heated and sensitized her skin, sending a liquid warmth washing over and through her. She opened herself to him, letting him feel the burning wetness that had nothing to do with the bay around them. He began to stroke her again, the movements so soft at first that only by concentrating could she isolate them from all the other feelings bombarding her senses.
Very soon, however, it became clear that here was where he had been leading her, here to this secret lying dormant within her, where her body's reaction to his touch sent her blood searing through her veins, set her muscles into spasm, her heart beating uncontrollably, and started an ache so deep and wide that she expected to break apart with it.
Through half-opened lids she saw his eyes go liquid, watched a vein throb in his temple and heard the faint hiss of his breath. For the first time, she realized what his mission was costing him. In the midst of the agony and pleasure and need he had aroused, she reached out and touched his temple, struggling for words.
"Ethan, you...”
He stopped her with his mouth, then drew back. "No, Jordan, you..." He captured her lips for a long, breathtaking kiss that left her shaking in his arms. "Will you trust me once more?" he asked against her cheek.
"Why?" she murmured weakly. "What further sweet torture do you have planned for me?"
"The ultimate."
"I don't know if I can," she said with a sigh.
"I think it must be now, my love, if ever."
"Here?" she asked in amazement.
"Here," he said, "where the water will make you buoyant, so you can control our joining and take as much or as little of me as you can handle. And now, while your body is as ready as it will ever be, so the pain will be less."
She remained silent for a long time and Ethan feared that his careful orchestration of the moment would go for nothing. Suddenly, more than anything, he wanted to bring her to fulfillment, to do that for her despite anything else that might happen between them. Finally, she lifted her face and kissed the corner of his mouth, whispering against his lips, "Yes."
Without further hesitation, his hands slipped under her bottom and hoisted her hip high. He held her securely, letting her lower herself slowly around him, taking him into her, while he supported her, her weight lessened by the water in which they stood. With more self-control than he ever thought he possessed, he allowed her to make all the moves, keeping himself still, resisting the need and temptation to plunge deeply into her and surrender to the power of his passion.
Jordan
slid down over the hard throbbing warmth of the man, felt her muscles relax and expand to receive him, her body molding itself around him. Something broke loose inside her and she began to cry quietly.
Ethan's eyes opened. He kissed away her tears, murmuring quiet words of comfort and reassurance. Finally, she lifted her face and looked at him, wondering what she could do to repay the patience he showed her.
She felt the surf tugging at them, moving their bodies in a slow, measured tempo. She found herself duplicating the movements of the waves, instinct dictating how and when to move, making her aware of what gave him pleasure, what she needed to make her self whole and clean once more.
She heard Ethan's breath catch in his throat. "You're a quick study, aren't you?"
"I had a superb teacher." She kissed the tip of his nose. "Teacher."
"Now what?" he asked, his blue eyes focused sharply on her.
She brought her mouth down on his so he could feel her longing. "Share with me, Ethan. Please?"
"All right, but we'll have to move to dry land. Or I'm liable to drown us both."
On shore once again, he wrapped his shirt around her for warmth and carried her back to the guest room. He lowered her to the bed and lay his chilled body over hers, warming them both as he had in the water.
As his hands moved over her body,
Jordan
stilled them. "Ethan. No more games. Please."
"Are you sure?"
His expression was serious. Only his eyes betrayed his pleasure. Usually cool and placid, they glittered with sudden fire. His arms tightened around her and his lips joined with hers. She felt some inner control snap. A wave of heat swept through her and her body began to tremble with renewed anticipation. The muscles of his arms flexed and relaxed. His hard chest pressed against her breasts. She let the feel of him seep into her through her fingertips as they passed over the silky hair on his chest and the smoothness of his muscled upper arms and broad shoulders.
His eyes swept over her face, marveling at the beauty she denied but that he'd recognized in the first moment he saw her - the mass of sunlit hair, fanned out now about her like a golden halo, the wide sea witch eyes that seemed to search his soul, the mouth at once sensuous and innocent that drew him and held him....
Finally, he slipped between her thighs, his hands lifting her gently from beneath, arching her toward him, helping her to take the length and strength of him into her, and together, they completed what they'd begun in the gentle surf below.
* * *
Morning found
Jordan
on the beach. Awake since sunrise, she'd walked miles along the shore, watching as the tide moved in and then began its inexorable march back out again. Now she simply sat with arms hooked around her knees and watched the restless water, blue-gray beneath a sky full of dark, lowering clouds. As if they felt the coming storm, the gulls stayed on the beach. Unafraid of her quiet presence, they settled around her, pecking at the sand, alertly watching the waves, or sleeping with their beaks tucked beneath their wings.
Jordan thought about the man who lay sleeping in the house and smiled, then blushed as she remembered a night of lovemaking, by turns passionate, tender, bawdy and at the last, warm and comforting, a serene pleasure lulling them to sleep. She remembered his lips, hungry for hers, tasting her, heating her skin. Once again, she felt his hands as they explored her body and its most secret and sensitive places. She remembered the lean, hard strength of him, and how his body had felt to her fingers, how his skin had made her skin tingle, how her body had exulted when it joined with his.
She recalled, but could barely describe the sensations that had wracked her body - heat, cold, pleasure, pain, and above all, the surrendering of control while being acutely aware of every breath, every beat of heart and pulse, every inch of sensitized skin covering quivering cells and veins throbbing with the power of her blood coursing through them.
She relived the moments when he'd been gentle, patient, and those when his passion had ruled, making him demanding but never cruel, merely insistent. In those moments, his need had fueled hers, had become hers. The fulfillment tasted even sweeter because it belonged to both of them, as sweet as the moment when he held back and helped her climb to the summit with him. Whatever happened between them, she would never regret her decision, though the impulse had come without warning and she'd acted on it without conscious thought.
In the house, Ethan woke finally to find
Jordan
gone but he wasn't worried. They had connected in a way he hadn't anticipated. Although he knew how he felt about her and he'd seen clues that told him she cared for him, nothing that had passed between them before last night had prepared him for the intensity of what they'd shared. He was glad he hadn't let his reluctance get in the way.
He stayed in bed for a few minutes, choosing to linger pleasurably with memories of the previous night. When his body began to respond, as it had the previous night, he rose, swung his long legs onto the floor, and headed for the shower. Fifteen minutes later, he was out on the bluff, leaning cautiously on the safety rail installed the day after he and
Jordan
had first met.
He spotted her down on the beach, surrounded by sea gulls and pipers. He watched as she rubbed the back of her neck. As if sensing his presence, she turned and waved. He went down the steps to the beach and sat beside her on the sand.
"Sleep well?" he asked, nuzzling the side of her neck.
She smiled. "Too soundly even to dream." She gave him a sideways glance. "How about you?"
He grinned at her. "Like a baby."
This time she laughed. "Some baby!" Ethan hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her close. She sighed. "How long will we be staying?"
"That depends on how you feel about me once we've had our long overdue talk."
"About what?"
"About yesterday's insanity."
"Okay," she said with another sigh. "Let's hear it."
"You've got to stay away from those people." He felt the instant tensing of her muscles.
"I can't do that."
"Listen to me, please. Once Volpe realizes who your father was, your life will be at risk. For all you know he may already have made the connection and is setting you up for a fall. You can't count on Conlon to bail you out, either. His first loyalty is to the organization, assuming, of course, that he even makes it back from wherever he is. You have to be sensible about this. It's no game, you know."
She pulled away. "I know it's no game, and how dangerous it is, but I can't let that stop me. The man must be brought down. If the task has fallen to Conlon and me, then so be it." She turned to him. "And you're wrong about Terence. He wants Tony Vee as badly as I do."
"For God's sake," Ethan said impatiently. "The man made a choice before and chose the wrong side. You can't trust him. Even Dominique agrees you should bow out."
"Dominique agrees, huh? And how do you know that?"
"We worried about you. After I read the report we discussed the situation."
"What do you mean, you and she discussed the situation? What right did you have to discuss me? Or my life? What right do you have to make decisions for me? About me?" A cold, almost deadly calm invaded her, destroying whatever peace his touch had brought.
"You think you understand me? That you have clues? Answers? What you know is one-tenth of what I am and why. If I were capable of the violence that ruled my parents' lives, I'd shoot the man and end it quickly. Well, I'm not. So if I have to work with Conlon, I will. If I have to see Volpe again, I will. Whatever it takes to destroy him, I'll do. And you and Ms. Star Candidate for the D.A.'s office can take your discussions, decisions, and your damned surveillance team, and go to hell."
Totally unprepared for the tirade, Ethan could only turn and watch her climb the rickety wooden stairs to the house. He swore fiercely. He'd hit another one of those hidden nerves that he couldn't know existed, until it was too late. "I'd give my eye teeth to know what this one is," he muttered. "Must be a bloody bitch."
Back at the compound, he found her not in the main house, but in her cottage, packing. She'd emptied the drawers and the closet and was filling her garment bag and two pieces of soft sided luggage with whatever clothing and possessions hadn't already made the trip to
Boston
.
"Where are you going?" he asked softly.
"Back to
Beacon Hill
," she replied curtly and glared at him. "With or without you."
"Let's talk first."
"No. Whenever we talk, I end up angry. So, no more talk." She reached out. "Give me my keys."
He shook his head. "Give me a few minutes to pack some of my things, too, and to close the house again. We'll go back together. You're in no shape to drive yourself."