A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2) (16 page)

Jordan kept coming.

She stopped in front of me, her lips so close I felt her breath in hot puffs against my mouth. “Small town kisses are the best I’ve had,” she whispered.

A growl rose in my throat as I tossed my food aside and yanked her down over me. Our mouths met in a flurry of lips of tongue. I’d almost forgotten how sweet she tasted. I was instantly drunk on it. On the way her bare legs folded around me as she sank onto my lap, pressure adding inch by inch. Even through the layers of fabric, I could feel her heated center straining and pressing against my hard-on.

“Jordan,” I groaned.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered against my mouth.

Her hips rolled against me. Every muscle in my body pulled taut. It was the exact thing I’d wanted to hear from her from the moment I’d laid eyes on her. “I promise I won’t.”

My hands roamed over her hips and back and every time I tried to clear my head and pull away from her, she made a noise of pleasure that sent me spiraling again.

I felt my way to the edge of the fabric and then peeled her shirt over her head, mouth locked on hers. I ran my hands over her silky smooth skin and felt her shudder underneath my touch. I groaned, working fast as I unclasped her bra and cast it aside.

My palms cupped her bared breasts, thumbs grazing the tips, and I broke the kiss to dip low for a taste. Her nipple hardened against the flicks of my tongue and she moaned.

I glanced up to find her head thrown back, eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused, hair wild around her face. Fucking A. All I wanted was to be inside her. No, I needed to be inside her. Right fucking now.

I grabbed her hips and lifted us both to our feet. Jordan wrapped her arms around my neck, holding tight at the sudden change in position.

“I’ve got you,” I murmured, shifting my grip on her and using my free hand to shimmy her pants off.

“Casey, I can do that,” she said, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

“Sshh.” I kept my grip firm but gentle. We were past the point of return now and no way was I letting her think too hard for too long. With her pants on the floor, I guided her back to the couch, this time with her body spread underneath me. “I’ve got you,” I repeated.

Damn. I’d never meant those words more.

I eased away long enough to shuck my own pants off and then I lowered myself over her, skin to skin. Eye to eye.

I brushed a kiss over her cheek and then her nose until finally my mouth found hers again. She sighed and relaxed underneath me. I parted her lips and slipped my tongue inside her mouth, searching, exploring. She tasted like wild honey, a sweetness that sparked hunger. And suddenly I was starving.

The kiss deepened. Jordan arched her neck, her lips moving faster, her tongue driving the passion between us to a burn. I found her nipple and brushed a thumb over it before squeezing it lightly between my fingers.

Jordan responded by rolling her hips against me and my body went taut. I ground into her but it wasn’t nearly enough anymore. Not with her wet center so close. I trailed my hand down her chest and hips until I found her clit. Slow and methodical, I slipped a finger inside. Jordan moaned and pressed against me, her pussy gripping my finger as I slid inside and back out again.

“You’re so tight,” I whispered, and Jordan’s nails dug in lightly against my back.

“Casey, please.”

My erection pulsed, the tip jumping where it rested against Jordan’s hip. She squeezed her eyes shut and I knew she’d felt it.

I leaned close. “Do you want me inside you?” I asked, my pace quickening as I slid in and out of her, sending her closer to the brink.

“Yes, God, yes.”

I eased my finger out and brushed the tip of my cock against her opening. Jordan’s legs opened wide, inviting me, and I met her eyes. She stared up at me, her gaze hooded and impatient. It was all the convincing I needed.

I slid inside her slowly, careful not to get ahead of myself and ruin this whole damn thing. Jordan strained against me, lifting her hips to give me better access, her arched body coaxing me farther inside.

I pulled back and eased in again, setting a painfully slow pace. But Jordan re-focused and narrowed her eyes. “Faster,” she said, punctuating the request with a tight grab on my ass that pulled me deep inside her.

My control slipped and all I could do was give her what she wanted. What we both wanted.

Faster and deeper. I increased the pace and watched as Jordan’s breath turned shallow. She stared up at me through hooded lids, lips parted as she moaned between thrusts.

Her legs shook underneath me and I knew she was close. Fuck, so was I.

“Tell me when,” I said and Jordan’s eyes widened and sharpened on me.

She gave a lazy half-smile and then, on a hard thrust, she arched toward me, her arms wrapping tight as she held on. “Now,” she called out. “Right now.”

I brought my mouth down over hers. And we both let go.

Jordan’s legs shook harder. I wrapped my arms around her, the strength of my orgasm rocking through me like a freight train. I barely heard her calling out my name as my own pulse thundered in my ears.

I was lost, drowning in a sea of Jordan. Everyone else had been right. This was living, and I never wanted to stop.

Chapter Nineteen

Jordan

Saturday morning, I bit the tip of my thumb, shoulders hunched as I stood in the midst of the morning heat wave. In the yard before me, Casey bent over the rear tire of his pickup and I watched his back and shoulders strain with the effort of pulling the flat tire off, too worried to fully appreciate the muscles working through the thin layer of his shirt. Although, there’d been ample time to appreciate all of that last night. And without the pesky barrier of clothing, too. Casey had been … nothing like I’d expected. The sex had been spectacular—the best I’d ever had hands down—but the way he’d treated me, the soft kisses, the gentleness in the middle of the passion, had left its own mark.

But now, in the light of new day, not even the most mind-blowing sex could cheer me up. Not with a trip to my grandparents’ looming and already, the Universe was telling me I should know better than to go out there a second time.

Birds chirped, cicadas were already singing, and the nine AM heat was already giving my forehead a slick sheen.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” I called just as Casey grunted.

He rose to his feet, dusting his hands off, and sauntered toward the porch where I stood. He squinted at me in the sunshine, lips pressed together. “Sure it is,” he agreed. “A sign that rusted nails never fail to puncture rubber,” he said.

“Sorry,” I said for the hundredth time. “I must’ve run it over last night on the way home from the job site.”

“Yeah, well, doesn’t change the fact that this baby isn’t going anywhere.”

“Guess we’ll just have to cancel,” I said, unable to conceal my relief at the idea.

Casey climbed the steps and pinned me with a look. “Not so fast, slick. You already committed. I know up north that might not mean much but down here, when you say you’re going to be somewhere, you get there.”

“It’s not like commitments mean much to them,” I pointed out.

“You saying you want to be like them now?”

I scowled at that, blowing my hair off my damp forehead. “Fine. But we still don’t have transportation.”

“On the contrary.” Casey grinned. “You’re forgetting our second vehicle.”

It took me a moment to figure out what he meant. My gaze swiveled to the dirt bike parked next to the truck. “No way. I am not getting on the back of that thing with you.”

Casey shrugged. “I guess you can drive if you want,” he began.

“No! I can’t drive either. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

Casey’s grin was way too wide. “You can’t knock it until you try it.” He planted a quick kiss on my cheek, which distracted me long enough for him to swat my ass.

I yelped and jumped back, not ready to admit how much I loved Casey’s teasing.

He laughed and pointed at my shorts. “Go put some pants on. We need to leave in five if we don’t want to be late.”

Against my better judgment, I slinked inside and headed for my room, seeking out my most worn jeans. I’d been toying with the idea of letting him take me for a dirt bike ride for days now, but showing up to my grandparents’ house on one was not how I’d pictured our second meeting. Then again, if I wanted to get it over with, and get on with fulfilling the terms of this stupid will, I didn’t have much choice. And if my arriving on a motorcycle scandalized Sharon, all the better. I grinned and changed clothes.

When I returned to the yard, Casey was already suited up in some sort of compression suit, all black, and gloves to match. “Are we ninjas now too?”

“Ha.” Casey held out a matching jacket and I slid my arms into the sleeves, turning to let him zip me up. He handed me a pair of gloves with hardened pads across all of the knuckles. Last, he held out a helmet.

I hesitated, but Casey just shoved it on my head and then buckled the clasp underneath my chin. “Safety first,” he said, tapping it once before turning to the bike.

He climbed on, leaning left and kicking down hard on the start lever. The sight of him straddled there in his whitewashed jeans and scuffed boots, the engine rumbling to life underneath him, made me hot inside all my gear. It was a heat that had nothing to do with the summer day.

Casey sat back and gestured for me to climb on. Straddling the seat and tucked in tight against his back did nothing to ease the attraction that was fast becoming arousal as tension snaked through my gut and down into my thighs. Clearly, I’d been missing out by waiting so long to take this ride. Or any other ride—with Casey.

“Hang on tight and lean when I lean,” he said over his shoulder.

I called out an uncertain agreement but it was lost over the revving of the engine. We took off like a shot and I let out a squeal that made Casey’s shoulders shake with laughter.

The gravel drive gave way quickly to pavement and I thrilled as we leaned into the right turn at the end of the road. Casey rolled on the throttle and the engine gave a throaty growl and we sped forward. The ride took over everything, drowning out all thought and worry. All of my anxiety over today’s visit fell away and I was able to forget it all. My only focus was the feel of the wind on my face and the warmth of my body pressed against Casey’s.

I tightened my arms around his chest and inhaled deeply, appreciating the scent of grass and dirt as we wound through the back roads into Windsor.

He didn’t slow or ease up the entire ride, barely pausing for stop signs, speeding through curves and passing slower traffic without hesitation. I’d expected to be terrified, but the exhilaration that came from the wind and the speed was intoxicating.

By the time we pulled to a stop in a dust cloud, I swung my leg over and stood with a smile, fully relaxed despite whatever lay ahead.

Casey killed the engine and slid his helmet off, helping me with the clasp on mine before we both shed everything extra. He hung it all on the handlebars and pegs and then grabbed my wrist.

“What—” I began.

His mouth covered mine, firm and unrelenting as he planted fast kisses on my lips. He released me with a smile, grabbing my hand. “I just wanted to remind you whose side I’m on before we go in there,” he said. “Come on.”

Breathless and more reassured than I wanted to let on, I let him lead me up the porch steps, past the columns, and rang the bell beside the screen door.  The moment the chimes went off inside, barking began, muffled until the door swung open a second later.

“Morning.” John waved at us, the dogs hustling along behind him from the hallway. They sniffed around the edges of the door and John used his foot to hold them back while we slipped inside.

“John, this is Casey Luck,” I said, making introductions. I bent low to greet the dogs rather than navigating whether John might want a handshake or anything else resembling friendly or familial social etiquette.

Above me, I caught Casey and John exchange a handshake before footsteps sounded on the hardwood.

I straightened as Sharon appeared, an iced drink in her hand. “Jordan,” she said simply, her tone as cold as the ice-blue color of her pants. And then with sharp eyes on Casey, “I didn’t realize you were bringing a friend.”

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

“We woke up to a flat this morning,” Casey said, pushing past the dogs to extend his hand to Sharon. She eyed it uncertainly. “I gave Jordan a ride,” he explained.

Sharon took his hand delicately and then quickly drew away.

“That your dirt bike?” John asked, staring out the screen door with interest. “What brand is that thing?”

“It’s a Yamaha frame. Custom design,” Casey said and I shot him a proud smile.

John turned to Casey, brows lifted. “You build it yourself?”

“I did.”

John rubbed a hand over his stubble, nodding. “Huh. Well, the boys are all out back.” John clapped Casey on the back and led him to the back of the house. “You ever shot a .22?”

“Man, that was my first gun,” Casey said as they disappeared out the back door with the dogs at their heels.

I moved to follow but Sharon blocked my path. “The women are in the sunroom,” she said as if correcting some mistake on my part.

“I…” I sighed and followed her, biting my tongue. It’s not like I had any desire to shoot a gun. I’d stayed away from them my whole life. Even when Dad and Gavin had driven to upstate New York to try hunting a few times, I’d declined. I didn’t have anything against them in general, but personally, I didn’t trust my ability to handle something so deadly without hurting someone, namely myself.

But if I had to choose between that and Sharon—I’d choose weapons any day. Still, it wasn’t worth starting trouble over. I was sure a much better reason would come along.

Sharon led me past the living room I’d sat in last time and into the sunroom. The air grew warmer underneath the bright sunlight that poured in through wall-to-wall windows. A ceiling fan stirred the ends of my hair as I passed underneath. At the far end of the room, a wicker couch and matching chairs sat arranged around a glass-top wicker coffee table laid out with muffins, fruit, and lemonade.

A robust woman with the brightest floral blouse I’d ever seen stood and smiled at me as I shuffled in. It took me a moment to realize hers was a face I already knew.

“Helen,” I said warmly, hugging her when she stretched her arms toward me.

“Jordan, it’s so nice to see you again,” she said, drawing back and studying my face. “How are you? I’ve been so worried all week after— well, we both had quite a night out last weekend, didn’t we?”

“I’m fine,” I assured her, sneaking a glance at Sharon.

Sharon had taken a seat in the farthest wicker chair in what I suspected was her Majesty’s reigning throne, as it provided the best view of the yard where half a dozen men were gathered off the back deck. I did a quick scan for Wayne and relaxed when I didn’t see him among the men gathered.

I turned back and found Sharon eyeing me coolly, nothing in her expression giving her away. “I heard about your meeting with Wayne,” she said.

“Meeting,” I repeated, my brows lifting.

“Yes, I’ve spoken to him about his behavior and he’s agreed that it was not acceptable.” She poured a glass of lemonade and set it in front of me while she spoke. “He’s promised to practice more self-control going forward.”

“Not acceptable?” I looked from her to Helen, who looked away, clearly unwilling to get involved. I gripped the arms on my wicker chair. “I think that’s selling it a little short.”

Sharon nodded at my lemonade. “If you’re determined to pick apart everything I say, today isn’t going to go much better than the last time.”

“If you’re determined to downplay your family’s mistreatment of me, I’d say you’re right,” I shot back.

“Oh, dear. I should go,” Helen said, setting aside her napkin and rising. “This seems like a family matter.”

“Stay,” Sharon and I said together.

Helen sat.

Sharon cleared her throat. “After giving it some thought, I realized I may not have phrased my questions as … politely as I should have before.” She met my eyes in a level stare. “I’d simply like to know why you’re here.”

Points for directness.

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “Dad was always honest with us—Gavin and I—about why you weren’t in our lives. I’ve known my whole life what happened here between you and him, and frankly, I didn’t want anything to do with a family that would cast out their own simply for disagreeing with his choices.”

Sharon shifted but I ignored her and pressed on, knowing this was the only way. To be honest and lay it all out.

“I’m here because it was Dad’s dying wish that I come here and meet you. If for nothing else than to hear you out. I agreed and a couple of months after he … after he passed, I made arrangements.”

“Arrangements,” Sharon repeated. “Including moving in with a boy?”

I fought the urge to squirm underneath Sharon’s sharp eyes. I was not explaining myself to her. “Yes.”

“A boy who, conveniently, allows you to borrow his vehicles since you don’t seem to own anything yourself.”

“My car’s in the shop over in Grayson,” I said through gritted teeth.

Sharon huffed at that, and my temper flared.

“I’m not here under any gold-digging or devious pretenses. I don’t want a thing from you. I want only to meet you, clear the air, and go home and get on with my life.” I stopped there, furious with myself for the tears that burned at the corners of my eyes.

Sharon’s gaze was unforgiving as she studied me—and I only barely managed to hold back the tears that threatened to give away how much it still bothered me to talk about him and this stupid deal he’d forced me into.

Finally, she looked down, taking time to smooth her pants and fold her hands in her lap. “I see. I don’t want to hold you up.” Hurt flashed in her eyes and I was too surprised by it to know how to respond.

“That’s not the only reason you’re here,” Helen said when the silence stretched.

I shot her a glance, jolted back to the present. “Right. Um.” I struggled to get my bearings. Summer’s house. Hadn’t I mentioned that? “A local hired me for the design on her new place,” I said.