Save My Soul (10 page)

Jordon would've plunged more than his tongue inside of Maggie if Bernie hadn't interrupted the start of a perfect kiss.

“Carlos called me to take him to a hotel. He says he's causing problems between you two.” Bernie snorted. “Although, at the moment, I'm not seeing any problems.”

Maggie looked at Jordon with those sultry cartoon eyes, and he cursed their loss of privacy.

“We can't let him leave.” She stood up with such a jolt, the pier rocked.

Jordon steadied her swaying body with an arm around her waist. “What do you want to do about it?”

“We need to present a united front. He needs to know that we care about him.” She took off toward the house with her shoulders back and her hips rocking.

Bernie chuckled. “Boss Man, you've got your hands full with that one.”

Jordon liked the image. His hands full of Maggie. Maggie full of him. He shook off the lusty thoughts and slapped Bernie's shoulder. “Not yet, man, but I sure as hell won't stop until I do.”

Five minutes later, Jordon straddled the arm of the couch where Carlos sat with his eyes glued to the water. Behind Jordon, Bernie perched on a stool at the kitchen island.

“Carlos, Jordon and I won't be fighting anymore.” Maggie paced the length of a blue Dhurrie rug. “Right, Jordon?”

Jordon's lips twitched. Her hands were on her hips and she looked down at him from her upright position. “Right, Maggie.”

“Jordon and I tried to yell over our feelings instead of talking about them, but we're past that now, and we promise to work together to help you. Communication is the key to building relationships, and now that Jordon and I are talking about our feelings, there's no reason to yell. So you see, there's no reason for you to leave.”

Jordon stifled a laugh. The whole thing was preposterous. Maggie preaching about relationships to a professional baseball player who could get more ass than the toilet seat at a Mexican restaurant. Meanwhile, the world's highest paid sports agent couldn't stop thinking about getting her undressed so he could get laid for the first time in two years.

He looked around the room and marveled. It was a scene out of some whacky sitcom, where one big dysfunctional family worked through their issues. Jordon scowled at the random word. This wasn't his family. He didn't have time for family. But the more Maggie talked and the more Carlos listened, the more Jordon couldn't shake the feeling that this sort of teamwork was missing from his personal life.

“You know what I think?” Maggie stopped moving and widened her eyes. “I think we need to get out of this house and have some fun.” She turned to Bernie. “Do you think you and your wife can get a sitter? Jordon's taking us out tonight.”

Jordon groaned. All he wanted was a quiet night at home … in bed … and not alone. But the rest of them looked so happy. What choice did he have?

If Maggie wanted a night out, she'd get her night out. And in or out, Jordon intended to get what he wanted, too.

Several hours later, Maggie filled her lungs with the warm, deep-fried-scented air swirling around the restaurant patio and admired Jordon. His shirt fell open at his throat, revealing a few black curls, but his attractive dress mismatched his surly expression.

“Despite that nasty frown, you look very handsome,” she teased.

He leaned forward, carrying with him the warm spice of his aftershave. Maggie breathed him in, mesmerized by the sparks of yellow in his eyes.

“Thank you. And you look amazing, which isn't helping my mood. I wanted to stay home and come … ” he dragged a breath into his open mouth, “ … to an agreement.”

His suggestive words and soft tone tickled her skin, forcing her back in her chair on an exhale. “An agreement about what?”

He flattened his palms on the table, his right hand inches from hers. With a stretch of his fingers, he traced her thumb. “You know what I want.”

Oh, she knew. She'd have to be void of all senses to mistake his desire. Every part of his body screamed his intentions. And in case she didn't have a clue, he made it clear with a palm to her knee.

Maggie jumped at the touch of his hand, and slipped her tongue around her dry mouth, trying to focus on something other than the heat he generated. “I haven't exactly agreed to your proposition.”

He moved his hand up her thigh.

She wiggled and pulled back a bit, but he tightened his grip, holding her in place, sending jolts of pleasure to her most sensitive parts.

“I can make you happy to agree.” He inched his fingers along her inner thigh. “My powers of persuasion are legendary.”

A roar of celebration exploded from the bocce court.

Maggie squeezed her legs shut.

Jordon sat back, his scowl darker than the moonless sky.

Biting her lip to keep from laughing at his frustration, Maggie enjoyed herself for the first time in weeks. She was finally free from the constant tension that resulted from fighting her apparent attraction to a man she deemed entirely wrong for her, body and soul. Letting go of the resistance felt closer to Good than Evil, and there were all sorts of things a free thinking and acting woman like Maggie could do to enlighten and enliven a man like Jordon.

Since the start of their second kiss on the pier, she'd thought of nothing but kissing him again. And then the talk in the living room ended with a happier Carlos, leaving Maggie to determine that everything worked better when she and Jordon worked together. She couldn't help but wonder if the theory would hold true in bed.

His gaze pierced through hers without a blink, and the muscles in his neck bunched above his starched collar. He was wound so tight. Playing too hot and too fast with a powerful man was asking for trouble. So why did she feel like begging for every ounce of trouble he had?

“Boss Man, your throw.” Bernie raised a yellow ball to Jordon.

“I pass.” Jordon took a swig from a brown bottle. “Carlos, watch the arm. You're behind on conditioning, and bocce'll make you throw like a girl.”

Something flickered in Carlos's eyes. Fortunately, it wasn't a fresh wave of sadness. It was more like disgust, but Maggie couldn't be sure.

Instead of dwelling, she filed the observation away for later contemplation and stood, wiggling her fingers in the air. “Give it to me.”

Bocce seemed like a wholesome alternative to her previous activity. She and Jordon needed some physical distance before they set the place on fire.

Bernie dropped the heavy plastic into her hand, and she made her way to the end of the court. The restaurant patio outside a North Charlotte shopping mall was Jordon's idea, something to get Carlos out of the house and back in the competitive swing.

“Hit the blue balls, Maggie. Bernie cheats.” Tabitha folded her arms underneath huge breasts and flashed a gorgeous smile at the large man towering over her.

“But never on you, baby.”

They kissed, and Maggie felt warm admiration followed by a twinge of sadness. She hadn't been around many married couples. Crystal avoided the “institutionally minded masses.” Being with Bernie and Tabitha, watching their easy affection, Maggie couldn't help but question what she'd been raised to believe:
Romantic love is a myth created to contain and undermine greatness.

Whose greatness, Maggie wasn't sure. Just like all the other less-than-mainstream lessons swimming around in her head, Crystal's hatred for romantic love didn't make complete sense.

“Dr. Maggie, throw.”

She blinked and saw Carlos puzzling at her from across the sandy court.

“I'm … lining up,” she said, clearing her head with a shake and raising her arm a couple times for proof. “Watch and learn.”

Maggie swung her arm back and forward, releasing the ball into the air. She bounced on her toes as she watched the ball drop several feet short of the target.

Carlos cackled.

She'd never heard him laugh, and the joyful sound prompted laughter in return. “Hush,” she said, pointing a finger across the court. “It was one bad throw. Watch your back next time.”

“Tabby'll show you how it's done, Maggie.” Bernie swept a hand before his wife, paving the way for her toss.

Once again, Maggie felt a mix of admiration and sadness. She glanced at Carlos, who was smiling but standing alone at the end of the court. Alone, like her. They stood in stark contrast to Bernie and Tabitha. Bernie wrapped his arm around his wiggling wife's waist, and Tabitha pressed lips to her husband's neck. They might be delusional victims of a non-existent romantic love, but they didn't seem to mind. Delusional or not, they were a pair. Partners. Soul mates.

For some stupid reason, Maggie's gaze roamed to Jordon. He sat pressed against the chair with a hand covering his mouth, eyes on her. She smiled, mostly to hide her ridiculous train of thought. But when he dragged his hand over his lips and smiled back, all thought disappeared.

Jordon stood and crossed the patio with determined strides. With each step, his smile faded until he looked very serious … very sexy. She smelled his cologne and felt the heat from his body before he grabbed her hand and tugged.

“Come with me.”

Her feet tangled, and she stumbled. “Where?”

“Stop with the questions.” He slipped an arm around her waist, rocketing heat throughout her body as he pulled her into the crowded restaurant and then out into the parking lot.

He moved briskly over the asphalt, and her heels wobbled as she tried to keep up. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere.”

The way he said it — all breathy and non-negotiable — stirred her imagination.
Somewhere.
She could only dream of what would happen there. “Where exactly?”

He spun around, and she bumped him chest-to-chest in the dark space between an SUV and a mini-van. He leaned close enough to tickle her lips with his ragged breath, sending hot air into her lungs, skittering over her insides until the heat pooled between her legs.

“You know what I want, Maggie, and I don't care where I get it.”

She gasped. “We should talk about this.”

He cocked a brow, smirked and traced a finger along her collar bone. “There are other things we should be doing with our mouths.”

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't recall ever being pursued so completely. Jordon stalked her with hungry eyes, a feathery touch and scorching words. Her body responded to the intensity, heating and melting in all the right places, making him hard to resist.

Maggie scrambled to form an intelligent sentence. “There are questions and answers we … ”

“You want questions? Fine. I'll give you questions.” He dipped his finger from her neck to trace the outline of her breast. “I know you don't wear a bra. Are you covered down there?” He dropped his eyes to the short hem of her dress and his fingers followed.

Maggie wobbled on her heels and had a random wish for a glass of ice. Touching the air with her tongue, she tasted Jordon on the breeze. Desire raged out of control.

With a tip of her chin to the starry sky, she gave in. “Why don't you find out?” she asked, stepping her feet apart.

He didn't wait for a second invitation.

When his hand smoothed over the inside of her thigh and his fingers brushed the soft skin between her legs, Maggie shuddered, her insides turning hot with sticky need.

Before she could worry about where they were and what they were doing, he dropped his hand from beneath her skirt and gripped her by the elbow, pulling her through the parking lot until the town car appeared.

Jordon punched a code into the driver's door and opened the locks. “Get in.”

All but the front windows were dark enough to hide them. Still, Maggie hesitated. She recognized the line she was about to cross and thought — for a split second — about changing directions, but he pressed a hand to her bottom and smoothed his palm over her curves.

“Get in the car, Maggie.”

Fanning the tingles spreading through her body with a deep breath, she slid across the cool backseat and surrendered the minute his gorgeous face and wide shoulders came into view. He crawled toward her, stalking her from beneath hooded eyes.

Impulse shattered anticipation, and Maggie grabbed his face between her hands. Pulling him to her, she crushed his mouth with her lips.

Passion turned into a struggle when Jordon leaned his full weight against her and Maggie's head and neck bent against the door. She tossed her right ankle over the front seat, trying to get comfortable, concentrating on the way his kisses stole her breath and stirred her desire. But as the seconds ticked by, her body screamed for release from the cramped space and clothing.

She imagined shedding her dress, stripping him slowly and feeling him skin to skin.

With her fingers spread over his chest, she grazed the hard points of his nipples against her palms. He moaned at the simple pressure, reminding Maggie that she wasn't the only one who wanted release. She was making out in an uncomfortable car with a man who was sex starved.

She'd have to speed things up.

Moving her hands to the button of his pants, she worked until she held him. “I want you inside me.”

He groaned, breathing hot and wet against her neck, but he didn't make a move to lift her skirt and end his misery. Instead, he wasted precious time, licking a trail along her jaw to her ear, where he nibbled, causing tiny pinpricks of pleasure to cover her body, threatening her ability to give.

“Now,” she rasped, tightening her hand around his erection.

Jordon froze, breathing loudly in her ear. A second later, he pushed up and sat back against the opposite door, glowering but looking incredibly sexy while he did.

Maggie drew a few quick breaths and swallowed her confusion. “What's wrong?”

His face contorted and his eyes rolled skyward. He growled, and she wondered if he was experiencing a bout of performance anxiety. If he was, she had the anecdote.