Chapter Eleven

Sweet Surrender

Jordan choked back a sob at Woody´s stated truth. She was his wife…for now. But within the next 48 hours that would change. She would become the ex-Mrs. Hoyt. Woody's first wife. In time their "marriage" would become a memory…something to laugh over…maybe even a memory to forget, only pulling that remembrance out on the rare occasion when he would possibly run across two pair of stray gold wedding bands at the bottom of a drawer in his dresser. In time, she was sure that even the rings would disappear…he'd move somewhere with his second wife and either forget them or fling them in some trashcan to avoid his new wife asking any questions.

Woody heard her sharp intake of breath at his admission, and felt the unintended shiver that ran up her spine at the word "wife." He hadn't been a totally unfeeling bastard. He had noticed her glances at him today…the looks she gave him when she was sure he wasn't paying any attention to her. The fact that Jordan had seemingly enjoyed pretending to be his wife didn't escape him, either. Taking deep breath, he decided to see just how reluctant she was to end the charade. "You know," he began. "It's funny. I never imagined spending my honeymoon like this … in a place called Coldstream, Kentucky," meaning for his voice to be light. He was surprised when he heard his voice take on a huskier note than he wanted..

"Me, either," she responded, holding her left hand out in front of her…looking at her plain, gold ring again.

"I always figured I'd honeymoon somewhere where it's warm and sandy…"

"With cabana boys to bring you margaritas and towels…"

Woody chuckled at the vision of Jordan stretched out on a towel on some hot, sandy beach somewhere…in a barely-there bikini…Until the vision pulled him up short…what if she wasn't with him on that beach? Lowering his voice, he pushed the charade on.

"Yeah," he whispered in her ear, gently brushing her hair off one shoulder, pulling it all to the other side, allowing him unbridled access to that side of her. "and I can rub oil on my wife," he began a slow trail of kisses along her neck, "or just hold her…" He wrapped both arms around her from behind.

Jordan's body went on automatic response as the tingles from his kisses and the feel of his tongue on her skin began to work its magic on her again. She unconsciously tilted her head back to allow him better access, praying he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"Or…" he whispered again in her ear.

"Or what? she whispered back, rapidly losing her breath and all sense of her surroundings.

"Or this…" His hand slipped inside the sheet she had wrapped around herself, tracing small circles on her ribs…working their way up until he was cupping her breasts. Jordan reached up and pulled his face to hers, kissing him and moaning softly against his lips. Encouraged, Woody slowly trailed one hand down her taunt abdomen until he found her…Jordan felt herself arch against his hand….felt him increase the intensity of their kisses….and after a moment's hesitation, Woody gently began caressing her there until she climaxed and he heard her soft sigh of sweet surrender. . and her eyelids flickered down.

"Look at me, Jordan," he whispered to her again in her ear. Jordan slowly opened her eyes, not sure what to expect…would his eyes hold the laughter of two lovers getting to know each other, or the hostility of someone who just got one over on her? She held her breath.

The answer was neither. Woody's eyes shown with intensity she had never seen before. .a burning blue…Jordan felt her voice catch in her throat all over again. "Woody?" his name came out as a breathless question.

His response was to pull her completely in his lap, nearly cradling her, and kiss her again…and again. As if he was trying to kiss away any of her doubts or second thoughts…any of her fears.

All of the past.

And it was working. Jordan couldn't keep a coherent thought in her head as long as he continued to hold her and work his magic on her. His hand returned to inside of her sheet, intent on knowing her body as well he knew his own. When he slipped a finger inside of her and felt her arch and then tighten around it, Woody knew that he was rapidly losing control of the situation. If things progressed any further on that window seat, he didn't know if he could stop if Jordan suddenly decided to say, "No."

He wasn't sure if she would even be able to stop.

And God knows, while he was ready to make her his wife in every sense of the word, he wanted her to be cognitively aware of what was going on…not caught up in the heat of the moment.

And her responses and moans were telling him that she was at the same place he was…reluctantly he pulled his hands out from under her sheet and began to softly run his hands down the outside of it…still touching her through the thin, cool, cotton fabric, but slowing things down considerably.

"Woody?" she asked again, this time her voice and her eyes registering confusion…and a bit of the hurt he had seen in them far too often.

"You know where this is leading, Jo…" he whispered.

She nodded. "I know…"

"We can stop now…go back to our separate beds…"

"And not sleep for the rest of the night?" she questioned, moving restlessly on his lap.

"Jo…be still. Please. Or…"

"We can take it upstairs…" her voice held a note of finality to it…like she had been considering this for a long time…far longer than she had let on to him.

"Only if you want it…"

Jordan bit her lip. She wanted it…and him…had for a long time. The question was, did he want her? "Do you want it, too?" she asked, lowering her eyes.

The chuckle that ran through his body shook him and her both. Raising her chin with one free hand, he leveled her eyes up to his. "I think that's kind of obvious…." he replied with a smile. Then turning serious, he continued. "I just want you to be sure…"

"I'm sure…" Then registering the look he gave her, she continued. "I am…if I wasn't, I'd have been off this window seat minutes ago."

Woody nodded. That was true…if Jordan hadn't wanted him…his touch, his kisses, she would have told him in no uncertain terms and he would have been banished upstairs a long time ago. Tightening his hold on her, he stood to his feet. "Then what are we waiting for? We've wasted too much time for too many years…."