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Wild Irish (Book 1 of the Weldon Brothers Series) Page 7
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He grabbed her shoulders. “No more. Not this time.” He gently nudged her. “Look at yourself, Lexi. See the wild sexy, siren that I see. Damn, I have got to get inside you or die.”
In the mirror, she saw herself, kneeling beside him, her body glistening with oil, her hair a wild tangle about her shoulders. Her lips were puffy, her eyes languorous. He was looking at her as he opened and slid on the condom, all dark and dangerous, and so blatantly sexual.
“Stand up and face the mirror, Lexi. I want you to see me inside of you.”
When she turned, he pulled her down onto his lap and spread her legs, pressing them to rest on the outside of his thighs. The flushed folds of her sex lay open and his erection brushed them. Lifting her hips, he eased her onto him, groaning.
Alexi gasped as he filled her, as she watched his erection disappear into her. Then sliding one hand back and forth across her breasts and the other down to rub the hardened nub of her sex, he pushed deeper. Watching him touch her, watching his intensity as he plucked at her nipple, flicked her clit, and thrust up into her again and again, propelled her into new sexual territory and heightened her senses to a fevered pitch. It was as if he bared a deep, sensual part of herself she’d always kept secret, had always feared to admit existed.
Screaming his name she came in a wild rush as her orgasm plowed into her like a freight train and kept rolling over her again and again, spiraling her more and more out of control.
Having Alexi scream his name again, seeing her come apart, knowing he’d driven her wild, sent Jesse over the edge. This foray into sex with her kept edging him higher, making him hotter and more turned on than he could ever remember being. The spasms of her inner muscles milked his exploding erection until he could do nothing but jerk to the whim of her orgasm as he too lost all control.
His walk on the wild side plunged him into the deep end. Because at that moment, he knew come hell or high water, he’d be doing his best to come inside Alexi again. This game had only just begun.
Before either of them could move, the phone rang. He leaned back and closed his eyes, thinking whoever invented the answering machine definitely knew what they were doing. Unlike him. He didn’t know what in the hell he was doing having a sex fest with a woman he couldn’t seem to get enough of.
By the third ring of the phone, he’d decided that having more sex with Alexi would fit just fine into his vacation. A man didn’t get rid of twelve years of wanting in one afternoon. Maybe they’d do the weekend together. The chapter in his life that she’d been in had dangled with injustice for twelve years. It stood to reason that it would take longer than one afternoon to bring it to a satisfying conclusion. That had to be why his hunger for her seemed insatiable. That and her sexual willingness were as big a turn on as he’d ever had. He could still see himself buried inside of her and her sex open to him. By the fourth ring of the phone, he slid his finger over her hotspot, smiling as her hips jerked in response. She moaned, as if she couldn't bear any more but couldn't deny more either.
The answering machine picked up then and he gave it half of his attention as he slid his hands up to her breasts, feeling his erection begin to harden. Three times at bat and a home run on every pitch all within an afternoon, an unprecedented sexual experience for him. He pressed up inside Alexi wondering if he could set a world record.
His brother Jackson’s voice intruded from the answering machine. “Jess, thought you might want the heads up. I’m at Mom’s and Dad’s and the police have just left. They’re looking for you in connection with the kidnapping of Alexandria Jordan and are on the way to your place.”
Jesse froze mid stroke as an icy bath of reality hit him in the gut. “Sonofabitch.” The freaking police again? Kidnapping charges? The past and how he’d been railroaded before crawled all over him. His hands fell from Alexi’s breasts and he pushed her shoulders up from his chest. “It’s midnight Cinderella and the coach has just turned into a pumpkin.”
“What?” He saw her blink in the mirror.
“Didn’t you hear my brother’s message on the answering machine just now? The past is about to be revisited. The police are on their way here. You’ve been reported as bride-napped and I’m the bride-napper.” This was one sterling way of erasing the black cloud off the Weldon’s name in Savannah. Jesse’s stomach clenched.
“Oh, no!” She twisted as she sat up then stood so fast that she came close to seriously injuring his dick.
“Damn!” He grabbed his aching member, nearly doubling over with the pain. It was a condomless penis too. “Shit!”
Alexi burst into tears.
“Don’t move!” he said. Still nursing his penis, he reached for her. “The condom is missing,” he said as he slid his hand between her legs and found what he was looking for. Before he could do or say anything else, she ran to the bathroom.
“Shit.” It was one hell of a way to end the game.
CHAPTER SIX
Stay calm, Jesse told himself as he paced in front of the bathroom door. The police would arrive at any second and he and Alexi had to talk, but she’d yet to come out of the bathroom. What had upset her? Did she think she might be pregnant?
He knocked on the door. “Alexi?”
She didn’t answer. He knocked again.
“What?” she said, opening the door. She’d showered and had put on her stained wedding dress. She was the most adorable drowned rat he’d ever seen. A queen rat, he thought as he noted the aloof coolness in her green eyes.
“We have to talk, before the police get here.”
She turned her back to him. “Then you better button and talk at the same time.”
He’d much rather see her face than help her back into her dress, but she seemed determined. “If you’re upset about the possibility of being pregnant, you can relax. The condom didn’t have any leaks.”
“Thank you for the reassurance,” she said her voice stiff, “but I’m on the pill, so that didn’t bother me.”
That was a relief to know. He took a deep breath, thinking he should just let it go at that. But he couldn’t. What had bothered her? Had he done something to cause her pain, or was she embarrassed over what happened? “There’s nothing to be upset about. We’re adults and sex is sex. Sometimes it’s not perfect and sometimes it’s messy. Neither of us meant for any of that to happen. I can walk and I daresay I’ll be able to have sex again.”
“Good,” she said. The buttons tightened as she drew a breath. “I, uh, wasn’t overly embarrassed just surprised by how suddenly everything went wrong.”
“Good.” He finished the last buttons and she turned. Her eyes were still reddened. “Then what made you cry?”
“My life. My family. I can’t do anything without—”
“Your family?” A loud knock made them both jump. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her eyes, feeling frustrated. This discussion wasn’t in the sex plan. Still he found himself saying, “We’ll talk later.”
Jesse went to let the police in; wondering what coming to her rescue was going to cost him this time. She was a mine-field of trouble that he damn well didn’t need to tread any closer to. He needed to get her home ASAP and forget about anything else to do with her.
* * *
“Take me home,” Alexi said, turning to Jesse the second he closed the door behind the police. It had taken quite some time to convince the authorities that she was with Jesse of her own free will and that nothing criminal had taken place to cause her aborted wedding. Apparently the report given to them by her grandmother was that she’d been kidnapped. It seemed that Katherine Jordan was still set to see Alexi marry Roger.
Jesse studied her for a minute. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she thought she’d detected a hint of relief in his voice. “If you’re sure that’s what you want?”
“I’m sure. There are few things that I need to set straight.” She’d come to that conclusion when she’d been standing naked in front of Jesse with the cond
om hanging from his hand. The police after him, the reality of her life intruding in the middle of her sexual escape with him had been a slap in the face, a real wake up call. It was time she ordered her life so that she had a life. She’d never realized how tightly she’d been bound to being exactly where her family wanted her to be until now.
“Let’s go then.”
Too soon Jesse pulled into the drive of her home. Reporters, parked across the street, had their cameras flashing, but none tried to stop the car. Maybe word of Jesse’s driving had already spread through the gossip ranks. Jesse followed the curved drive until a sprawling oak hid them from the road.
The Captain’s House, its ornate three stories and widow’s walk loomed over her. For generations the Regency-styled monument—built by William Jay in 1819 and located in Savannah’s National Historic Landmark District—had been a symbol of her family’s prestige, position, and its accompanying duty in the community. Today it had become a brick around her neck.
“We didn’t finish earlier,” Jesse said.
Heat flushed her cheeks as she remembered just exactly what position they’d been in when they’d been interrupted. She opened her door, needing air.
He leaned over and brushed a finger along her cheek, making her insides quiver. “Our conversation,” he clarified. “I’m not in the habit of having women run from my arms crying. Screaming with ecstasy I can handle.”
“It wasn’t you.”
“Then what?”
“You could say the reality of my family and my life intruded...and it upset me.” She stopped herself before she told him how much the intrusion into those few moments she had been grasping for herself upset her.
“I guess I can understand that.” He gave a heavy sigh, looked as if he was going to say more, but shook his head instead and got out of the car.
She followed. When they reached the large, curving stairway that led to the carved doors, he put his arm around her back as they walked up the stairs. Having Jesse at her side felt good, but she knew his presence was only temporary. She was amazed he’d gotten out of the car at all and could feel the tension emanating from him like a furnace.
He wasn’t the only one tense. She was walking back into her home a different woman than when she'd left this morning. Part of it was due to what she'd found out about Roger and her grandmother's reaction, but a greater part of it had to do with her inner self and the sexual road she'd willingly walked down with Jesse—a road she wasn't exactly ready to depart from. They reached the door and he turned to face her.
"You okay?"
"Yes." She could hardly compare how she felt now to how she felt marching from her aborted wedding. A world of pleasure lay between.
"Good," he said, his voice sounding as if a goodbye sat ready to jump off his tongue.
“About today, I, what we-” She bit her lip, completely at a loss of how to express that she didn’t want to end what they’d started. Instead she grabbed his shoulders and kissed him.
Her heart pounded. It was one thing to make love on a private deck and his bedroom and quite another to kiss him on her doorstep. He kissed her back, hard and demanding, his strong arms wrapped around her as his warm thigh slid between her legs. She moaned, pressing her breasts to the heat of his chest, needing more of the sensual elixir he oozed, but he ended the kiss.
“Damn,” he said roughly and bent to kiss her again.
The front door opened and her grandmother’s outrage killed the moment. "Alexandria Jordan! What are you doing?"
She turned to face her family and an oppressive weight settled in her chest. "Returning home so you can see that calling the police was unnecessary."
"From what I see, it doesn't look as if I called them soon enough. Get in here before your reputation is completely destroyed. Violet is prostrate and Roger is beside himself with worry. He's called every five minutes and you’re off gallivanting with riff-raff."
She grabbed Jesse’s hand and pulled him inside with her. Riff-raff! She wasn’t about to let her grandmother dismiss him like that.
Her father marched out of his study. "It’s about time you came home, young lady.” She winced at the condemnation in her father’s voice, but straightened her shoulders. Robert Lee Jordan probably had more gruff censure and implacable iron will than his Confederate name’s sake. He employed all of it as he stared stonily at her and, as always, that emotional distance she could never seem to cross stood between them. Every time he saw her, he only saw her mother. The wife he’d loved and lost.
“What have you got to say for yourself?” he demanded.
Jesse spoke before she did. “With all due respect, sir, your daughter has had an upsetting day.” Jesse tightened his grip on her hand and glared at her father.
She held her breath. Jesse had very politely just told her father to lay off. To tell Robert Jordan what to do in his own home was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. She looked at her father and waited for the explosion. It didn’t come.
He stared at Jesse a few tense moments then cleared his throat, directing his gaze her way. “Well, you obviously haven't been kidnapped as your grandmother claimed, so I assume you had reasons for leaving Roger at the altar?"
"Yes," she said, firmly, straightening her shoulders. "Very good reasons. This is Jesse Weldon." Silence descended.
What are you doing here, Weldon? Meeting up with her family again wasn’t in the sex for a day plan. So, why didn’t you cut yourself loose from Alexi outside? Why did you walk her to her door? Why did you let her pull you into her life?
One answer clamoring over the din his get-out-of-Dodge instinct made was pride. The last time he’d stood in this entryway he’d been handcuffed and under arrest with nothing but a wrong-side-of-the-tracks chip on his shoulder to insulate him from the Jordan’s deep freeze. He had to admit that it was pretty damn warming to be here now with all of his years of success backing him up. But as satisfying as the moment was, it wasn’t reason enough. No, he was afraid that he was standing here next to Alexi because he wasn’t ready to cut the sexual ties they’d forged today. Why else walk her to her door? Why else the flashpoint kiss that had him wanting to cart her back to his car for a repeat of the day?
Men get blown up in mine fields, Weldon. Even if they are there for kicks. Shoving his thoughts aside, Jesse focused on the situation. The cold reception Alexi received from her father and grandmother disturbed him. Somehow even during his father’s angriest moments, Jesse had never felt such reserve. It wasn’t any of his business, but still he kept Alexi's hand in his, not willing to leave just yet. The inside of her house was as he remembered it, ornate, formal, museum like—the opposite of the homespun warmth of his family’s farmhouse.
There'd been a time when Jesse had felt intimidated by ostentatious wealth, had even coveted the gloss of a silver-spoon-blue-blooded heritage. Now, he wouldn't trade any of his farming, Irish ancestors for what Alexi had hanging on her.
“If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never see a day such as this. There's no excuse for what you've done. And you've ruined your dress! My word, what have you been doing?” Kathryn Jordan’s response escalated with every syllable. Something he was sure had to be a feat to accomplish, considering the mountain of outrage she stared down from.
"I fell in the creek while throwing rocks. Ignoring Jesse isn't going to make him disappear. Surely you remember him."
The glare in her father's eyes hardened. "I do. I also remember what kind of man he is. I hope he isn't the very good reason you abandoned your wedding."
Jesse's muscles tensed, but he kept a lid on his temper. Before he could say anything, Alexi spoke. "He didn't do it. He didn't steal the pearls. He was here that night because I had invited him here. He was with me in my bedroom because I took him up there and when he left, he was hit on the head. His first sight of the pearls was when he woke up to the police."
Her words were like a match to dry tender.
"Well, I never," Katherine Jordan
exclaimed. The grand dame of Savannah’s society clutched her chest as if she'd been attacked. "How dare he tell such a lie! What did he do to you to make you turn against your own family? How can you believe the word of a shipyard worker's son over your own family?" The steel censure in her voice didn’t hold a candle to the formidable condemnation in her eyes. Jesse didn’t relish the forces Alexi had to deal with. Another four-year stint in the army looked good in comparison.
"Exactly what do you mean, Alexandria? I can assure you that neither I nor your grandmother framed anyone or lied." Robert Jordan’s demeanor brooked no argument. It gave Jesse a good idea of what Alexi’s life must have been like at seventeen. Maybe she hadn’t hung him out in the cold, maybe she’d done the best she could considering.
An odd tingling raced up his spine. After seeing her family’s reaction, he wasn't so sure they were guilty. Then what happened twelve years ago?
"That's impossible," Alexi said. "One of you—"
"Lexi, I think maybe there is something else going on here and maybe it would be best to discuss this later."
She swung around to look at him. "But—"
"Later,” he said, curtly.
Robert Jordan spoke up. "What are you doing with my daughter?"
The question caught Jesse off guard and he almost blushed with guilt, but he reminded himself that Alexi was twenty-nine, and didn’t need parental approval to have sex.
Alexi turned to her father. “I asked him to help me and in case there are any doubts, I asked him to kiss me, too. Roger is history.”
“Maybe you need to ask why she needed help,” Jesse said, recovering his balance, compelled to defend her.
“Alexi! Thank God you’re all right.” A man, looking like he’d just stepped off a Perry Ellis photo shoot, entered the foyer from the back of the house. Jesse had always thought fashion ads were overblown and superficial. Now he knew it.
“Don’t dramatize everything, too. I’m fine. Benny, this is an old friend of mine, Jesse Weldon. Jesse this is my neighbor, Benny Whitaker. He’s helping with the charity auction I mentioned.”