We lapsed into silence. Jordan looked through the bottles of red in front of us. He’d put the white in a wine cooler, which I shouldn’t have been surprised that he had. He selected a bottle and expertly uncorked it.
“You’re good at that,” I told him as he tossed me the cork. I lined it up on the fireplace.
“Lots of practice. I’ve drunk my way through Napa a few times.”
“Fancy.”
“And France.”
“Of course you have.”
I’d never been anywhere. Not really. I was fourteen before I ever even left the state, and it was for a cheerleading competition in Oklahoma City that I thought was the coolest thing ever. Sutton and I went to New York City after high school graduation, and that was my first time on an airplane. I should have been terrified, and I’d promised myself that I’d travel more…but of course, you had to have money to travel. And I’d never really had money. My family wasn’t impoverished, but my parents had other priorities—volunteering, charity, church. Our money went to those less fortunate than us, which I appreciated and understood. But I still wanted to see Europe one day…to get out of Lubbock one day. As much as I loved it—and I did really love it here—there was a whole wide world out there.
Jordan poured us each a tasting glass. He held it aloft between us. “To free wine and good company.”
I laughed and clinked my glass against his. “Cheers.”
We each took a sip of the wine. My eyes rounded to saucers.
“Whoa,” I gasped. The wine was delicious. Fragrant and light with notes of cherry and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “What is that last taste?”
Jordan picked up the bottle and read the back label. “Cherries and plums.”
“Plums!” I said with a nod. “So good. I could drink this whole bottle.”
He laughed and poured me another drink as he uncorked a second bottle. I inappropriately guzzled the wine like it was water. It was too good to waste a single drop. We moved on to the next bottle and the next and the next after that. Tasting alone likely would have gotten me tipsy, but any of the ones that I loved, Jordan would pour us both extra. Which meant that even though we hadn’t finished a single bottle, it was possible that we’d gone through three or four. The “tasting” was pretty deceptive.
“This one,” I gasped. “This is the one!”
“I don’t think we can even judge anymore,” he said, taking another sip of the wine I was insisting was the best. “I don’t even know what this tastes like.”
“Delicious. Here, let me line them up in order.”
Jordan had put stoppers in most of them, which was good because my hands were clumsy and I nearly knocked over two of them.
“Whoops,” I muttered before arranging the bottles in some order. “Wait, is this the chocolate one?”
“No, that’s this one.”
“Okay. Put that down there.”
“Annie, this is incoherent,” he said with a laugh.
“Shut it, Wright. This is the order. It is.”
His laugh continued, and he scooted in closer to examine the labels. “You didn’t even like this one!”
I tried to keep the label in focus as it doubled in front of me. “I did, too!”
“No way. You said it was sour.”
“You don’t know anything.” I pushed him lightly. But all it did was put myself off-balance. “Oh God!”
He chuckled harder, reaching out and grabbing me to keep me steady. “Maybe you’re done.”
“We still have a few bottles to open. What about the white?”
He shook his head. “No way. We can do the white another day.”
“Jordan,” I groaned. “We can do it. I believe in us.”
The electricity had come back on at some point, but we’d left the fire and candles going instead of turning on any lights. I’d lost the sweatshirt and socks when I got too warm. The wine heating me up from the inside out.
Jordan’s brown eyes were dark in the ambient light. I could see notes of amber around the irises and the heat hidden between us. The one that I’d been ignoring ever since I saw him at the Wine Boutique earlier that evening. And now, after hours of sipping wine in front of the fire, the space between us had diminished to nothing. His hands were still on my shoulders to keep me upright. His interest in me not hidden by his sweatpants. My tongue flicked out to taste the wine across my lips, my brain shutting down when it fought to wonder if this was a good idea.
“We should get you to bed,” Jordan said. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“Should we?” I whispered.
My hand brushed across the hair falling over his forehead. He shivered at my touch. His grip tightened on my shoulder before sliding down to my waist.
We moved at the same time. I couldn’t even say who started it. One minute, we were apart, and then suddenly, we were crushed together. His mouth fitted to mine. The taste of wine heady between us. His tongue opened my mouth to him, taking what he wanted from me. And I did nothing to stop it. Couldn’t deny even in my addled brain that I wanted this from Jordan Wright.
One kiss.
That was all it took.
And I was his all over again.
Jordan broke away breathlessly, going for the hem of my T-shirt. I helped him pull it over my head and stripped his off next. Our sweats followed. A haphazard, slightly drunken tugging of clothes and abandoning them on the outside of our pillow fort.
There was no thinking. No wondering if this was the right decision. No second-guessing at all. There was only this moment where I couldn’t get close enough to him, couldn’t feel enough of his heated skin against mine, couldn’t taste enough of his potent lips.
Our underwear disappeared just as quickly, and I reached out for the hardened length of him. Jordan groaned, pulling me back to his lips and kissing me savagely. Like he was on fire and all he wanted was me to stoke the flames. His hand moved lower, pressing against my clit until I squirmed underneath him.
“Condom?” he gasped against my lips when he felt the slick wetness between my legs.
“Birth control,” I said instead.
I couldn’t fathom him walking away from this moment to go find a condom in his house. I suddenly needed him inside of me with a feeling that bordered on desperation. I couldn’t wait any longer.
He pushed me back into the pillows. The light of the fire casting shadows across my body, trailing a map of the freckled constellations across my skin. His eyes roamed the heavens before settling back on my face. He leaned forward on his elbows and brought our lips back together.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admitted so softly that I almost didn’t hear him.
I didn’t know what to say in return. If I would admit to wanting him, too. But then his cock settled in the apex of my thighs, grazing against the wetness of my pussy. I moaned, my eyes fluttered closed, and the world teetered on its axis.
“Are you sure?” he asked just once. Always a gentleman.
The head of his cock was nearly inside of me already.
“Jordan,” I moaned his name, thrusting my hips upward to meet him.
He didn’t need to be told twice.
Nor did I need to say anything else when my body told him precisely what I wanted.
He thrust deep inside of me. My body opening up for him and pleasure blooming through my core. Holy fuck!
I’d forgotten. Three years without him was a long time. And even though my brain had made him more gorgeous in our absence…it had not exaggerated how good he felt. In fact, he felt even better. A point that I hadn’t thought was possible. But it was Jordan Wright; I never should have underestimated him.
Our hips moved together seamlessly. A rhythm as synchronized as the waves beating against the beach.
Our lips met again. I was drowning in him. Succumbing to the undertow. Letting him drag me under. I didn’t fight it. Didn’t want to. I was in a perfect state of bliss as my climax hit me full force.
I cried out, tightening around him. He grunted. His fingers brushing my hair out of my face. I looked up to find him staring down at me with adoration in his expression. I was terrified of what would come out of his mouth, so I kissed him. And he came hard and fast inside of me.
“Fuck,” he moaned against me, pumping into me twice more before stilling.
“Fuck,” I repeated.
He put his forehead against mine. “You’re magnificent.”
I smiled sleepily, sure that I looked thoroughly fucked, and then kissed him again. He pulled out of me, and I went to the bathroom to clean up. Then I collapsed down onto our pillow fort, snuggling close to the dying fire. I didn’t want reality to crash back into my life just yet. So, I let Jordan pull me tight against him. My back to his chest. He drew circles on my skin until sleep was tugging me under. He kissed my shoulder once, soft and gentle.
I heard him whisper something behind me. Something that sounded a lot like, “I wish you were staying.” Those traitorous, vulnerable words that I’d uttered to him the last time we did this.
But then I was asleep, and I was sure that I’d misheard.