A Better Man(78)

It was late by the time they got back to the apartment. Mildly tipsy from the delicious rosé, Lucy followed Jordan and Nicole inside, where they were greeted by a happy-­to-­see-­them tail-­wagger. While brother and sister discussed plans for the following day leading up to the game, Lucy escaped by taking Ziggy outside to do his business. The break was what both she and her dog needed-­for drastically different reasons.

Every minute spent in Jordan's company only increased her want and need for the man. She knew she was dreaming of the impossible; their lives were too completely different. But trying to tell a heart what it couldn't have was like explaining to a two-­year-­old that ice cream was bad for them.

The breath of fresh air helped clear her mind a little so she could still grasp the fact that while she might want and might take whatever Jordan wanted to offer right now, it was short-­term. Eventually he'd go back to his regular life and so would she.

When she came back into the apartment both Nicole and Jordan were absent from the room. One look at the sofa where last night Jordan had pulled her down on top of him created a crazy tingle inside her body before reality shoved it aside and her earlier bravado shriveled like a rotten apple.



       
         
       
        

How did she compare with the other women Jordan had been with? His celebrity allowed him to attend exclusive parties and red carpet events. He dined in the finest restaurants and dated supermodels while she was accustomed to home-­cooked meals and not dating at all. She had no worldly experience. Even when she'd been married to a man with money, she'd never fit in with his family, his friends, or his colleagues. So how in the world did she think she could ever fit in with Jordan's?

Not that he'd asked her to.

The women he dated were gorgeous and far more experienced at pleasing a man than she'd ever be. Last night he'd pleased her multiple times. But really, what did she know about turning the tables? Yes, she was an eager student. But what if she did something wrong? What if he laughed at her?

When nerves got the best of her she escaped to the bedroom where she could hear the shower running in the adjoining bathroom. Trying not to imagine him in there naked with soap bubbles on his perfectly muscled body; she pulled on her sweats, grabbed a pillow and blanket, and headed for the sofa.

A few moments later he came out into the living room with a towel wrapped and knotted at his waist. Moisture clung to all the dips and ripples of muscles, and a drop of water slipped from his wet hair and trailed over the tattoo on his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Curled up beneath the blanket on the sofa, she tried to keep her gaze steady and not let it wander all over his body.

Tried and failed.

"I'm not letting you sleep on the sofa tonight." She punched her fist into the pillow. "You need to get your rest."

His head tilted. "You want me to rest?"

While he stood there looking like some kind of sun-­kissed god with his bare chest and rippled abs on full display, Lucy swallowed hard and nodded because, really, that's about all she could manage.

"Well, I guess you're right. I could use a good night's sleep," he said while he stalked closer. His clean scent waved before her like an aphrodisiac.

Not that she needed one where he was concerned.

"My thoughts exactly," she said in a reasonable tone even while her heart pounded and her blood rushed through her ears like an ocean wave. "So I'll sleep out here. You can have the bed."

"I always sleep better after I've worked out a little."

"So you're going down to the gym after a shower?" 

Coming closer, he gave her a grin that said, Nice try.

The towel knotted at his hip looked like it was about to slip as he stopped right in front of her. Which put her at eye level with . . . whoo boy.

"Not the kind of exercise I had in mind," he said with a chuckle.

Lucy squeaked when he picked her up, easily tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her into the bedroom.

As soon as they reached the door his towel slipped off and she had a perfect view of his tight and rounded gluteus maximus-­a true thing of beauty.

Though she appreciated the visual, and though a large dose of estrogen sent her awareness into overdrive, doubt and anxiety dug in their heels. "But . . . Nicole's not asleep yet."

"She's all the way on the other side of the apartment." He gently tossed her on the bed and leaned over her; completely aware he was naked, and confident with the exposure. "Plus earlier she recorded the music to her new song. And right now she's wearing the headphones I bought her and listening to the track while she's working on the lyrics. So you can moan and scream all you want. She won't hear a peep."