Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

“Jordan…” Sydney whispered, but it wasn’t a warning — more like a plea.

“And I’ve wanted to kiss you every day since then, too.”

Her lips trembled as she pressed them together, and I hadn’t realized her hands were on me, not until I felt her fist twist in the fabric of my jacket, like she was in danger of falling off the hood of my truck if she wasn’t latched onto me.

“Sydney,” I said, soft and low. “It wasn’t a mistake for me. It wasn’t an accident. And I don’t want to keep pretending like it is. But,” I added, swallowing. “I will respect if that’s the way you see it. If you truly want me to forget it ever happened, I… well, I’ll find a way. But only if you can look at me, right now, look me right in my eyes and tell me that’s what you want.”

Her face crumpled, and for a moment I was worried she was about to cry, that I’d pushed too far, that I’d listened to my baby brother’s advice like a fucking idiot and was about to pay the ultimate price.

“Was our kiss a mistake?” I asked again.

And with her eyes still welled up, she shook her head.

My heart slammed in my chest. “Do you want me to forget it ever happened?”

She shook her head again, and already, our hands were reaching for each other, our lips parting, closing the distance between us.

“Can I kiss you again now?” I whispered.

She nodded, and I tilted her chin up, taking her mouth with mine like it had always belonged to me.

And in a snap, all the energy in that forest rushed to the point where our lips met.SydneyEverything that had been dead inside me came to life when Jordan Becker’s mouth claimed mine.

It happened in a rush, in an instant, in a shock so violent and powerful that I felt it like an earthquake in my soul. Desire that I hadn’t felt in years pooled heavy and hot in my gut. My heart that had only beat in fear and suspicion began to beat in urgent want, instead. My hands that I thought had forgotten how to touch a man reached for Jordan like he’d always been mine.

And in the midst of it all, the way he kissed me made me realize I’d never really been kissed before.

I’d never had strong hands holding my face like that — in a way that commanded I was his but also ensured I was cared for. How was it possible that his lips were hot on mine, that his teeth sent sharp pangs of pleasure and pain through me each time he bit down on my neck, that his hands gripped me hard enough to leave bruises and yet still he was somehow tender, somehow hesitant, somehow gentle and sure all at once?

I pressed my hands into his chest as the night came alive around us, feeling its energy as I straddled him on the hood of his Bronco. The more we moved, the more we both became covered in the fresh mud he’d conjured up on our ride out to the meadow, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

My kisses grew harder, more insistent as I rolled my hips, and when the heat of me met his growing erection, I smiled in satisfaction.

In two quick and fluid movements, I broke our kiss and stripped my hoodie over my head, letting it fall somewhere on the ground behind me. I already had my long-sleeve shirt up and over my head when Jordan’s hands gripped hard on my waist, stilling me where I was grinding against him.

“Sydney,” he panted just as I lowered my mouth to his again.

I stole his next words, and he moaned, holding me tighter as I kissed him and rubbed the seam of my leggings against the growing bulge in his pants.

He cursed into my mouth, breaking our kiss with his hands grabbing my wrists and holding me away from him.

“Syd,” he said again, and for some reason, that little shortened version of my name made the urge to kiss him even more intoxicating. “Maybe we should slow down.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” I said, breaking the grip he had on my wrists and wrapping my hands around his neck.

My fingers gripped at the base of his head, pulling him into my kiss, and he bit down hard on my lip, releasing it with a pop before he held me away again.

“Woman,” he warned, but he was smiling, panting. “I’m serious. I don’t want this to be just…” He frowned. “I want to court you, get to know you, take you on a date.”

“You can take me on a date later,” I said, rolling my hips against him. It was the only place he wasn’t holding me still, and his eyes rolled up toward the full moon above us with the friction I created. “Right now, I want you to touch me.”