One Wright Stand

He tugged my crop top over my head, leaving me in my lacy balconette bra that did nothing to hold the girls but looked amazing as they spilled out of it. And by Jordan’s reaction, it worked.

“Which room?” he asked.

I pointed down the hall as I kicked my boots off at the door. He removed his shoes just as the opposite door creaked open.

“Annie?” a voice called. “Are you home?”

I gasped and launched for my shirt, which Jordan had discarded somewhere on the floor. I scrambled to my feet with the tiny piece of material between me and Jennifer, who was standing in her doorway in sweats and an oversize T-shirt.

“Jen! I thought you were asleep,” I said, overly cheerful.

Jordan had finished with his shoes and stood next to me.

“I was reading, but I heard voices.” Her eyes drifted to Jordan, and then they visibly rounded. “Uh…did I interrupt?”

“No!” I said quickly. “Nothing to see here.”

Jordan chuckled, and I nudged him with my elbow.

“I didn’t mean to…get in the way. Sorry about that.” She awkwardly waved at Jordan and squeaked, “Hi.”

“How’s it going?” Jordan said, completely unconcerned that I was half-undressed in the middle of our living room.

“Oh, fine. I’m just going to…” She gestured behind her. Her face was beet red, and she tried to find something to do with her hands. “Just, uh…forget that I was here. Have fun.”

Then she rushed back into her room and shut the door.

I met Jordan’s gaze, and we burst into laughter.

“Think we traumatized her?” he asked as he took the shirt from out of my hands.

“Maybe,” I said. “I don’t normally do this.”

Not here at least.

“Mmm,” he said, his hands returning to my body. “Maybe we should move this elsewhere.”

I gestured toward the bedroom, but he slipped his hands down my legs, grasped my thighs, and hoisted me into the air. I squealed, throwing my arms around him. My eyes drifted over his shoulder to Jennifer’s bedroom. I was going to have an interesting conversation with her tomorrow. But I was currently living for tonight.

Jordan walked us both down the hall to my bedroom. Before we got there, he thumped me back against the wall.

“Shh,” I whisper-shouted, a smile splitting my features.

He crushed his mouth to mine, breaking away only long enough to say, “You’re not going to be asking me to keep quiet later.”

“Oh God.”

He kissed me again with a ferocity that made my entire body shudder.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered, his hands slipping up my legs as he leveraged me against the wall. “I could take you right here.”

I whimpered. My core pulsing at the filthy words.

His body ground against mine. The full length of him pressed hard against my tiny shorts.

My head fell backward with another thump that I couldn’t bring myself to care about. Jen would fend for herself. I was too focused on the precise feel of him as he worked his hips against mine.

He’d been lying about knowing how to dance. Because if the circle of his hips was any indication, he knew what he was doing.

“Please.” I didn’t know what I was begging for. For him not to stop. For him to fuck me here against the wall. For it all.

“I would,” he said, twisting the door open and shooting me a look of pure sin, “but I want to savor you.”

There was something in Jordan’s eyes when he pushed open the bedroom door and dropped me to my feet. Something even hotter than when he’d offered to fuck me right there.

“Savor me?”

“Oh yes,” he said, closing the door behind us. “I’m going to take my time.”

I swallowed in anticipation. I’d had one-night stands before. Not a ton, but a few. And the guys, in my experience, were interested in getting off and getting out. There was no savoring. There was no taking their time. Honestly, I hadn’t done anything like this with a stranger in a long time because of that very fact. Most guys who wanted to date me weren’t much better.

But here was Jordan, walking me back toward my king-size bed, decorated in soft gray and blues, and I didn’t think he was blowing smoke. He wasn’t just saying what I wanted to hear.

“You seem skeptical,” he said.

I bit my lip. My legs hit the footboard, and I leaned back against the mattress invitingly. “No, you just seemed to be in a hurry.”

“Can you blame me?”.

His hands ran down my exposed stomach before dragging the zipper down my shorts, revealing the pink thong underneath. Oh God, I couldn’t seem to get enough of him. He tugged me back to my feet to help me slide out of my shorts. My fingers grappled with the last few buttons of his shirt. I wrenched it back over his shoulders, and he let it drop to the floor, next to my shorts.