Текст книги "A Lot Like Love"
Автор книги: Julie James
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
“So ready,” she said in a throaty voice.
Nick grabbed his wallet off the nightstand and pulled out a condom. He unwrapped it, placed it at the head of his cock, and took her hand, wanting her to do it. He cupped her ass as she rolled it over him. Then she leaned forward and rested her hands on his chest as he moved himself into position.
He kissed her as she lowered herself onto him, capturing her moan with his mouth as she stretched to accommodate him. When he was fully inside her, he clenched his jaw, straining against the overload of sensation. She felt so warm, so wet, and so fucking good, that his mouth just started talking. “Ride me, Jordan,” he groaned. “Oh God, baby … love me.”
She sat back and began sliding up and down on him. He held her hips, guiding her, moving her in a smooth, sensual rhythm, fighting the urge to go off at the sight of her naked above him in the bright light of day.
“Lean forward,” he rasped. “I want one of those beautiful breasts in my mouth.”
With a sharp inhale, she did as he asked. He took one of her rosy nipples into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it. Still riding him slowly, she let out a stifled cry, and he knew she was getting close. “Spread your legs wider,” he whispered. When she shifted, he grabbed hold of her hips and held her steady. He took charge of their rhythm, thrusting up into her with smooth, deep strokes. She said his name again, urgently, and he knew she was at the edge. And he was right there with her.
She whimpered and closed her eyes, and that sound, plus the exquisite expression on her face, drove him right over. “Let me feel it, baby,” he groaned. He kissed her as they both exploded, first her as she cried out, then he followed when he felt her tighten around him, pulling him deeper inside. They moved together, gasping and riding through the aftershocks, until she finally slowed to a stop and collapsed on his chest.
They lay there for a long time, skin to skin, hearts pounding.
After several minutes, she broke the silence. “That’s the longest we’ve ever gone without talking.” She perked her head up. “I didn’t break anything, did I?”
With his finger, Nick brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “No.”
She looked concerned when he fell quiet again. “Are you okay?”
“Definitely. Just thinking that it’s never been …” He stopped awkwardly. Man, he sucked at this.
Her expression turned tender, a look that said she got it, as she leaned forward to cover his lips with her own.
“For me, either,” she whispered softly.
Twenty-seven
JORDAN PEERED THROUGH the car window at the heavy wrought-iron fence that loomed before them. The gates bore a marble crest with an elaborate monogrammed B, the logo for Barrasford Estate winery.
Nick sat next to her in the backseat. “Nobody’s answering. That’s a shame. Guess we’ll just have to head back to the resort.” He snapped his fingers. Damn.
“It looks like the driver is speaking to someone on the intercom now. Oh – and the gates are opening. See, I told you they were expecting us,” she said, nudging him.
“I’m excited. Really. How long do we have to stay?”
Jordan threw him a look. “It’s a wine tasting, Nick. You’re not exactly being tortured here.”
“Anything that keeps me from being alone with you is torture, Rhodes.”
She shook her head. “Ha – that’s not going to work this time.” She pointed. “Behind those gates is what’s rumored to be a new cabernet that rivals some of the best in all of Napa and Sonoma. I love cabernet. I’ve been in the Napa Valley for” – she checked her watch – “two hours and thirty-eight minutes and I haven’t had a drop of wine yet. Don’t get me wrong, I love earth-shattering sex as much as the next girl, but right now we are going inside and trying that wine.”
“What happens if I say no?”
“You can pretty much kiss spit or swallow good-bye.”
Nick was out of the car in a flash.
Jordan watched with amusement as he walked around the car, opened her door, and held out his hand, all gentlemanly.
“Ms. Rhodes.”
“Mr. Stanton.” She slipped her hand into his, looking forward to the day when he was once again simply Nick McCall.
Their driver nodded at them as they passed through the gates. “Enjoy the wine. I’ve heard good things.”
Jordan checked her watch. She and Nick were scheduled for a four o’clock appointment, the last tasting of the day. “We’ll probably be about an hour and a half.”
“Take your time,” the driver said, with the easy grin of a man who was paid well by the hour.
With her hand in Nick’s, they strolled through a beautifully landscaped Mediterranean-style courtyard with a fountain.
“Okay, tell me what I need to know about this place,” he said.
“They’re new – their first vintage will release next month. They’re not a large vineyard, only about forty acres. They produce exclusively cabernet sauvignon. They’re very eager to compete with the top wineries in the market, and at only a hundred dollars per bottle, have priced themselves well to do that.”
Nick shot her a look. “Only a hundred dollars a bottle?”
“For the big boys of cabernet, that’s not a bad price. If I can get them to lower their bulk rate, I plan to make them one of our May wine club wines. Assuming I like what I taste.”
At the end of the courtyard, they came to a set of enormous oak doors – at least fifteen feet tall – that led into a two-story winemaking facility. The doors were open, and a professionally dressed woman in her late twenties greeted them warmly.
“Welcome to Barrasford Estates, Ms. Rhodes,” she said.
Jordan smiled and shook her hand. “Call me Jordan. This is Nick Stanton.”
“I’m Claire,” she said, shaking Nick’s hand next. “Follow me.”
They made small talk, and Claire asked them about their trip while leading them through the wine production facilities. In sharp contrast to the warm Mediterranean style of the outside grounds, everything inside was modern and pristine stainless steel – except for the twelve massive French oak fermentation tanks that were roughly fifteen feet high by ten feet wide.
“Explains the size of the doors,” Nick noted.
Claire nodded. “Moving those tanks in here was quite an adventure, I can tell you.”
The tour of the facilities was shorter than many Jordan had been on at other wineries, and she wondered about that until Claire explained.
“We do things a little different here,” she said. “We like people to see all stages of our wine-making process as it’s actually happening, so we’ll be showing you a short documentary film that covers everything from harvest to bottling.”
She led them into a large conference room with one wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that captured a view of the valley and the Mayacamas mountain range. Claire invited them to have a seat at the marble-covered table, and opened a bottle of wine.
She explained as she poured two glasses. “So this is our estate cabernet – which will make its debut this coming May. The grapes were harvested two and a half years ago, then the wine was aged for eighteen months in oak barrels.” She handed Jordan and Nick each a glass. “Enjoy the wine while you watch our film. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes and would be happy to answer any questions you might have.”
After Claire left, Jordan swirled her glass, releasing the aromas of the dark red, fragrant wine.
“This is more formal than I’d expected,” Nick said. “Are all wine tastings like this?”
“It varies. Some take you on a tour of the facilities or bring you out to the vineyards. Others are more casual and you just pull up a chair and drink. Barrasford Estate apparently has a movie.” She took a sip. The wine was lush and full, exactly what she liked in a cabernet. “Now that’s a mouthful.” She winked at Nick as the lights in the room dimmed and a screen dropped down from the front of the room.
After the film ended, Claire came back and asked what they thought of the wine. Jordan had explained who she was when she’d made the tasting appointment, so they knew she was there on business. She praised the wine and raised the idea of introducing it to her store’s club members.
“Your cab would be slightly outside my usual price point, but I’m hopeful we can work something out given the size of the order I would place,” she said to Claire.
“I don’t have the authority to handle any sort of negotiations with respect to price,” Claire said apologetically.
“Of course.” Jordan pulled a business card out of her purse. “That’s all my information, if you wouldn’t mind passing my card along to your sales director. You can tell her that my store’s wine club has over eight hundred members who would be introduced to your wine with a recommendation from both my manager and myself. Between the two of us, I think we can get much of the Chicago wine community very excited about Barrasford Estate’s upcoming release. What distributor do you use in the Chicago area?” By law, she wasn’t permitted to buy wine for retail use directly from the winery, but if Barrasford used one of her regular distributors, they should have no problem brokering a deal.
“Midwest Wine and Spirits, I believe,” Claire said.
Jordan nodded. “I work with them all the time.” She pointed to the card. “I plan to finalize my May wine club picks during this trip, so ask your sales director to give me a call before the weekend is over if she’s interested.”
A few minutes later, Nick and Jordan were seated at a table on the winery’s open-air terrace. Several other groups, mostly couples, sat at nearby tables, and the atmosphere felt more casual and welcoming than the other parts of the tour.
Sitting across the bistro table with his dark sunglasses, facial scruff, jeans, and black button-down shirt, Nick looked decidedly bad-boyish for a wine tasting. Not that Jordan particularly minded. No offense to the guys she typically dated, but Nick blew them all out of the water.
“You drive a hard bargain,” he said in reference to her negotiations with Claire.
She waved this off. “What I proposed is a good arrangement for everyone.” A light breeze blew her bangs into her eyes, so she smoothed them back into the bun she’d pulled her hair into after getting dressed at the hotel.
“Do you think the sales director will contact you before Monday?” he asked.
“I think the sales director will contact me before we leave here today,” she said confidently.
Nick studied her through his sunglasses. “That’s a bold call. I guess we’ll find out how good you really are.”
Claire returned with a tray filled with six glasses of wine and a basket of crackers. First, she set down the two biggest glasses, one in front of each of them. “I brought you each another glass of our cabernet. As a comparison, I thought you also might like to try some barrel tastings from next year’s vintage.” She set two smaller tasting glasses in front of each of them. “So after we harvest the grapes and ferment the wine, we fly in a professional taster from France – the renowned Philippe Fournier – and set him up in a room with samples of wine from our twenty-eight different vineyard blocks. For three days, he tastes the wine and gives us recommendations on the percentage each of the samples should contribute to our final estate cab.” She smiled. “Then everyone drinks and parties for two days, before we get back to work.” She clasped her hands together. “So, are there any questions I can answer for you at this time?”
“I think we’re good for now. Thank you,” Jordan said.
When they were alone again, Nick leaned in and spoke under his breath. “And the hundred-dollar-per-bottle question is: does any of that make a difference?”
“If people enjoy the wine enough to spend a hundred dollars on it, then sure.”
He looked skeptical.
“You can’t think of it as merely a beverage, Nick – every glass of wine is its own experience,” Jordan said. “Approach it the same way you might approach, say, a new relationship.”
He looked even more skeptical now. “A relationship?”
Jordan picked up her glass of cabernet. “Sure, think about it. You start by looking at the wine. That’s your first impression. You ask yourself, ‘Does this look good to me? Am I interested in finding out more?’ Then you get a little closer to the wine. You try out its aromas, and if it’s something you like, your body reacts instinctively, begins to hum with the anticipation of going further. You let the wine begin to tease you, draw you in, seduce you. You’re close at this point to getting a taste, but you’re not there yet. Maybe you hold out a little longer, delay that final gratification, keeping yourself right at the edge for as long as possible. And finally, when you get to the point that you just can’t wait anymore, you taste. You give yourself over to the rush, the smooth, silky feeling of the wine, its flavors, its scent, and you taste again. And again. Until you feel that flush begin to build, that warm, tingly euphoric feeling that goes on and on, even after the last drop is gone, before you slowly float down on a cloud of bliss.”
She tipped her glass at him. “Now that’s what drinking wine is about.”
Nick’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes hidden behind the dark sunglasses. Then he looked over at Claire as she passed by their table. “I think we’re going to need a second round.”
She clapped her hands with delight. “Wonderful! Glad to hear you’re enjoying the wine.”
After she left, Nick took off his sunglasses and set them on the table. He picked up his glass and tipped it to Jordan. “All right, Rhodes. For you, I’ll give it a real shot.” He swirled his glass, smelled the wine like a pro, and took a good, hearty sip.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if debating, then he looked at her. “Black cherry. And licorice.”
Jordan’s wine-geek heart nearly burst with pride. “I knew you had it in you.”
A woman stopped at their table and introduced herself. “Jordan, hi. I’m Denise, the director of sales. Claire mentioned that you were interested in featuring our wine in your store? Let me grab a pen from the bar and we can talk specifics.”
Nick nodded, impressed, as the sales director stepped away. “Nice job.”
Jordan smiled. “I told you, Nick. This is what I do.”
NICK PULLED JORDAN into his arms as soon as they got back to their bungalow. She felt a rush of excitement – and happiness – when he bent his head to kiss her. She’d caught the way he’d looked at her during the car ride back to the resort and had sensed he’d had other things on his mind than tasting more wine. Normally, she would’ve suggested having a sunset drink on the terrace of the resort’s bar, but she was willing to bend a little … if he was, too.
He slid his hands to her waist as he kissed her neck. “So what’s next on the agenda?”
Jordan closed her eyes and thought she definitely could get used to having Nick around for wine tastings if this was what she had to look forward to afterward. “I thought we’d keep it simple, order room service, and have dinner on the deck.” It was a little chilly, but the fireplace would keep them warm. She didn’t want to miss this chance to eat under the stars – now that she finally had someone to share Napa with, she planned to go all out.
“I like that idea,” he murmured against her skin. He reached up and carefully undid the top button of her shirtdress, seemingly more patient than last time. “But room service will take at least an hour. Which means that we have some time to kill before dinner.”
Her thoughts exactly. “True. I was thinking I’d take a bath and relax for a while.”
His hands stilled on the second button of her shirtdress. “Oh. Sure.”
“I was also thinking that you could come with me.”
Nick cocked his head. “Yeah … I’m not exactly a bath kind of guy.” He got a wicked look in his eyes. “But there’s always that outdoor shower.”
Jordan shrugged nonchalantly. Nick McCall had a few too many rules – it was high time he started bending them. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, you know where you can find me.” She slid out from his embrace and went over to the bar.
He followed her and leaned against the wall, watching as she poured herself a glass from the half-finished bottle Barrasford Estate had given them when they’d left. Feeling Nick’s gaze on her, she headed across the terrace to the master suite. She hummed to herself as she went into the bathroom and began filling the tub. She set the wineglass on the marble ledge, adjusted the temperature of the water, and added some bath gel. She sipped her wine, letting the water run for a couple minutes before she walked back into the bedroom.
Each room of the bungalow had windows that vertically spanned three-quarters of the wall, which meant she could see across the terrace into the living room. Nick sat on the couch with the TV remote in his hand, watching a basketball game.
Jordan rolled her eyes.
Men.
He looked over and saw her watching him. She turned her back and innocently went about her business. While in front of the window, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor.
She just so happened to be wearing a thong right then.
She kicked the dress aside. Next, she unsnapped her bra – possibly taking a moment longer than necessary to ease the straps off her shoulders – and dropped it to the floor as well. Then she strolled into the bathroom, naked except for her thong and heels.
Inside the bathroom, she dug a clip out of her makeup bag and pulled her hair up. Then she stripped out of her underwear and heels and slid into the steamy water. She grabbed her wineglass, leaned her head against the back of the tub, and silently counted to ten.
She made it to six.
“You didn’t say there would be bubbles.” From the doorway, Nick frowned at the offensive white foam.
Jordan tried not to smile. “Agent McCall … imagine seeing you here. Change your mind about the bath?”
“I’m thinking about it.” With his gaze trained on her in the tub, he stepped into the bathroom. He carried the open wine bottle and a glass in one hand.
Jordan watched as he set them both on the ledge of the tub. Without saying a word, he unhooked the gun harness strapped to his calf and set it on the bathroom vanity. Next, he pulled a condom out of his pocket and tossed it next to the wine bottle.
“I see you’re packing heat again.” She lifted one leg out of the bubbles and turned off the faucet with her foot.
Nick’s eyes held on her bare leg, and then traveled up to her breasts that peeked out of the water.
“And I see that somebody believes she’s calling the shots around here with this bubble bath power play.” He stripped out of his clothes.
Jordan took another sip of wine – needing something to quench her suddenly parched mouth – as Nick stepped into the tub and lowered his naked body into the water. He grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her onto his lap, so that she straddled him.
“So is this your attempt to reassert your authority?” she teased.
He answered her with a kiss that fogged the bathroom mirrors. As their mouths moved together at a slow, languorous pace, her breasts felt tight and her nipples peaked, ready for his touch. When she instinctively began to rock forward on his lap, his thick erection settled right between her legs and pressed firmly against her sensitive skin.
Jordan’s hand tipped – she’d forgotten about the glass she held – and the wine nearly spilled on Nick before she righted it. “Almost got you there.” She reached over to set her glass onto the ledge.
He took it from her. “That gives me an idea.” He pressed the rim of the glass against the swell of her left breast and watched her face as his intention sunk in.
Jordan sucked in a breath, the wine-geek in her doing battle with the woman who was very turned on. “That’s … a really good wine.”
“And I can’t think of a better pairing.” He tipped the glass, and a small stream of wine flowed down her breast, covering her nipple. “Maybe it’s time I showed you how I like to taste wine.”
She gasped as he lifted her breast to his mouth and sucked. He ran his tongue around the pebbled tip. “Mmm … I taste sassiness. And a lot of spice.”
He reached for the glass and poured wine over her other nipple. He set the glass back down and pulled her breast into his mouth. With a quiet moan, she ran her hands over the flexed muscles of his shoulders and arms. She shifted in his lap, so that the tip of his erection was right at the warm, wet entrance between her legs.
He groaned and pulled his mouth off her breast. He dug his fingers in her hair, kissing her hard. “Don’t tempt me, Jordan. You have no idea how much I want to be inside you with nothing between us.”
He lifted her off his lap and plunked her into the hot, bubble-filled water. She saw that he had the don’t-fuck-with-me look on his face. The bossy but ridiculously sexy version.
“Sit up on the ledge,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not used to taking orders in the bathtub, Agent McCall.”
“You better not be.”
Smiling to herself over the possessive tone to his voice, Jordan moved to the edge of the tub. Perhaps, she decided, even a strong woman could acquiesce in interesting situations like these.
She lifted herself out of the water and sat on the ledge. The cool air gave her goose bumps as water dripped down her body and into the tub.
Another order. “Spread your legs.”
Her body turned to jelly. “What happens if I say no?”
A confident grin played at his lips. “You won’t.”
Damn. So true.
As her body buzzed with anticipation, she slowly did as he asked.
Nick rose out of the water onto his knees, his white-hot gaze taking in her spread legs. The water streamed down his toned abs and muscular thighs, and his thick, engorged shaft jutted out from his body.
Jordan swallowed hard.
He grabbed the glass again, moved toward her, and tilted the rim to her navel. As she watched, he poured a small amount of wine down her abdomen. His voice was gentler this time. “Lean back.”
Propped up on her elbows, Jordan closed her eyes and moaned when she felt his warm breath against her inner thighs. When his tongue parted her folds, her legs went limp, and she just … gave in. She felt his firm grip on each of her thighs, holding her open for him. She’d never felt so exposed, yet also unbelievably sexy, as he tormented her with his mouth until she was shaking. He brought her right to the peak, right to the point where she was saying his name nearly nonstop, when he stopped.
“No,” she gasped.
His voice had a strained edge. “With you moaning my name like that, I’m going to fucking explode if I don’t get inside you.” He grabbed the condom off the ledge. “Turn around.”
Clearly, they needed to have a talk about his dominant tendencies in sexual situations. Later. Much later.
Jordan lowered herself into the water and bent over the ledge, her elbows on the marble. She looked over her shoulder. “Like this?”
She watched him rip open the wrapper and roll the condom on. Then he moved behind her and gripped her hips to guide her bottom up, so that she was on her knees. “Like this.”
“Who’s making the power play now?” She just barely had enough wits for one last sassy comment before she felt his hard, hot, shaft nudging her open. She closed her eyes and moaned, her fingers splaying over the marble ledge as he slowly entered her from behind.
He leaned forward and kissed the nape of her neck. “Me. And you love it.”