Smoke & Mirrors by Skye Jordan
20
Logan
The air is crisp and scented with fireplace smoke. I’m hyped, but trying to keep my expectations in check as I head home. Isabel may have been up for sex when I saw her yesterday, but there’s no telling how she’ll feel about it today. Still, I’m hoping my morning wood will be good for something other than frustrating the shit out of me.
When I pull into the motel, I’m relieved to find her Jeep parked in front of her room. I take Lucky to the apartment and give him a treat, then start toward room seven. I see a sticky note on her door, and I deflate, sure it has to be a “maybe next time” type of note. But when I pluck the note from the door, it reads, “Come in.”
As I reach for the doorknob, my cell rings with Corbett’s number. My stomach tightens. “Hey,” I answer. “Have you got anything?”
“He’s basically a nuisance just waiting for the right moment to escalate into a legit problem,” Corbett says of McBride. “He’s had several run-ins with the law for minor offenses— a dozen speeding tickets, drunk in public, disorderly conduct, harassment, that kind of thing. He’s fairly well off, owns a place in Manhattan, a couple of nice cars, a sailboat. He has several guns registered in his name, but they’re all antique. Judging by their age, I’d question whether or not they’d actually fire, but he hasn’t got any weapon offenses.”
In one way, I’m relieved, but in another, I see him as an escalating problem, and I’m glad Isabel got away from him when she did.
I thank Corbett and refocus—on the beautiful woman waiting on the other side of this door from me. Of how strong she had to be to break away from such a manipulative man. Maybe she’s as different from other women as she seems. Maybe she really is what she presents—exactly the kind of woman I’ve looked for, but never found.
I convince myself that McBride isn’t as much of a problem as I thought. Once he gets the rifle back, he’ll drop the harassment. A man like that will turn his lazy attention to an easier target. Besides, he’s in New York, across the country from Isabel. My concern over McBride eases.
I open the door to her room, which is illuminated by the back window where the slats on the blinds cast a row of shadows across the floor. It’s warm too, the heater humming in a corner.
Isabel is in bed, lying on her stomach, the sheets bunched at her waist, her very naked skin contrasting with the navy sheets.
I close the door and pull my arms from my jacket. The rustle drags her eyes open, and she gives me a sleepy smile that has to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Her hair is tousled, spilling over the pillow, falling in her face.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and reach out, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Do you realize how fucking sexy you look right now?”
She laughs softly. “That’s what I was going for, but I fell asleep waiting for you.”
“I love that you were waiting for me.”
“Get naked, mister, and stay within view. I wanna watch you unwrap the whole amazing package.”
Flash fire flows through my veins. I stand, face the bed, and pull off my T-shirt. She stays on her stomach, head turned on the pillow, eyes dark and hot.
“Damn, you’re delicious,” she murmurs with a lazy lilt in her voice, but heat in her eyes.
I’m naked in thirty seconds, and I crawl onto the bed on hands and knees. I press kisses across her shoulder and down her spine, then get rid of the sheets and press the front of my body against the back of hers. My chest pressed against her back, my erection against her ass, our legs intertwined.
She jumps and laughs. “Oh my God, you’re cold.”
“Not for long.” Our legs twine, and I press a kiss to her shoulder. “Skin.” She’s warm, curvy, soft, and she smells like strawberries. “You have no idea how badly I needed to be skin to skin with you.”
“Mmm,” she says, sliding her thighs against mine, lifting her hips to rub against my erection. “Show me.”
With my lips pressed to her neck, I stroke one hand down her body, shoulder to thigh, and squeeze her ass cheek. “Damn, I love your body.”
She reaches back and combs her fingers into my hair. “And I love the way you love my body.”
She turns to her side, and I push up on my hands to let her turn over. Then she’s smiling up at me, her hair fanned out on the pillow in a tangle, and my heart makes a slow roll in my chest, spreading emotion through my body. I rest on my forearms, her head in my hands. Her thighs wrap my hips, and her hands slide down my back.
“How long are you staying?” I know this is not a great time to bring it up, but I feel my heart opening for her. I can see us together in the future. I want this to go on and on and on, not end in a few days or weeks or even months. Which means I need to know so I can get my head in the right place and chop off my feelings for her at the knees if I need to. And if she’s leaving, I need to.
One of her hands returns to my face. Her fingers brush my stubble, her thumb strokes along my bottom lip, and her gaze follows the path. “I’ve been thinking…”
“I’m not sure anything good ever starts that way.” I echo her own words from the day before as a tease, but panic stings my breastbone. Until right this minute, I didn’t realize how badly I want her to stay. This is a dangerous place for me. I have so few relationships with women that have been good, I can’t believe I’m ready to trust another.
I lower my head and drop a few kisses on her lips to quell the nerves. My hard cock is snuggled against her sex, and our bellies are pressed together. I’m having a hard time concentrating.
“Let’s revisit this conversation later.” She sighs and slides her hand around the back of my neck. “Right now, let’s focus on this.”
She pulls my mouth to hers and kisses me in a way that makes it clear she’s not interested in talking anymore. Who am I to argue? She rolls me to my back, and my body screams hell yes. She reaches into the drawer of the nightstand and pulls out a condom.
“You been in my stash again?” I slide my hands up her sides, cup her breasts, and ease my thumbs over her nipples. “Those aren’t from the trees, right?”
She laughs. “A kid is the very last thing I need to add to my current situation.”
She kisses her way down my abs, slides my cock deep into her mouth, and sucks. Lightning streaks up my spine, my head falls back on a moan, and stars burst beneath my eyelids, making my brain flare white-hot.
Instead of rolling the condom on, she works me longer. Until my vision blurs and my mind drops out. Until all I can focus on is the thick, soft strands of her hair between my fingers and the wet heat of her mouth surrounding me.
“Jesus Christ,” I manage, “you’re so goddamned good at that.”
She strokes my length as she finally rolls on the condom, and I grit my teeth against another surge of need. I watch her rise on her knees, position me, and sink home with a moan.
I’m already breathing fast when my fingers dig into her hips. I hold her against me and roll until I’m wedged between her thighs, as deep as I can get. She crosses her feet at my back and lifts into me.
This is so goddamned good, I can already see the finish line, and as much as my body wants to sprint there, my heart needs more. I slide an arm between her body and the bed and hold her tight as I sit back.
The weight of her body pushes me even deeper, and we both moan. She cups my head as she kisses me, slow and deep. She unlocks her legs, presses her knees to the mattress, and uses her hips to rock my goddamned world.
“Fuck, you’re amazing.” I bite her jaw, kiss her neck, bend her backward so I can tease her breasts. I feel her climax rise inside her—hips moving quicker, hands fisting tighter, sounds rising from deep inside her. She comes with her arms locked around my neck, cheek against my head, her pleasure ringing in my ear.
And as I hold her steady until she floats back from the orgasm, I’m stunned by the realization that I’ve never been so happy in my entire goddamned life.