The Naughty List Bundle - Kylie Adams [247]
There were no gentle words of admiration in his mind, no thoughts of cautious seduction. He felt savage, and it shook him.
After a shuddering breath, she moved away from his caressing fingers and accepted his coat. He helped her to slip it on, watching her contortions in the limited space of the back seat, seeing the thrust of her breasts as she slipped first one arm though, then the other. She lifted slightly to settle it behind her, and Jordan petted the material down her narrow back, all the way to the base of her spine. She felt supple and firm and he relished the sound of her quickened breath.
He smiled at how the sleeves completely hid her hands, curiously satisfied at seeing her in his coat and feeling somewhat barbaric because of it. She trembled so badly she couldn’t quite manage the buttons. Jordan brushed her small, chilled hands away and did them up for her. In a voice affected by being so close to her, he whispered, “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Her voice, too, sounded huskier than usual, proving to Jordan that he wasn’t sinking alone. No. Whatever strange affliction he felt, she felt it, too.
The urge to touch her again was strong, and he gave into it, tucking a damp curl behind her ear. Her hair was as soft as her skin, baby fine, intriguing. It was cut into various-length curls that moved and bounced when she turned her head. Along her nape, the hair had pulled into adorable little ringlets. He lifted those small curls out of the collar of his coat. “I’m Jordan Sommerville,” he said, and heard the increasing rush of her breath.
Staring down at her hands, she replied, “Georgia Barnes.”
“Georgia? As in a Georgia peach?”
“Don’t start.” Then she blinked and looked up at him. “Sommerville? I thought you said Sheriff Hudson was your brother?”
“Half brother,” Jordan explained. He felt the old bitterness rise up, nearly choking him.
Her head tilted in a curious way. “The sheriff is your younger brother?”
“No. Morgan is the second oldest, right behind Sawyer.” Jordan didn’t feel like explaining. If he was in Buckhorn, he wouldn’t have to, because everyone there knew everyone else’s business. In fact, he decided she must either be very new to the area or very isolated, not to have already heard the stories herself.
There was no disapproval in her tone when she asked, “Your mother has been married twice?”
Jordan sighed, seeing no hope for it. At least Georgia—what a name, probably just used as a stage name—was talking to him. “My mother’s first husband died in the service after giving her two sons, Sawyer and Morgan. She married my father, but not for long because he became a miserable drunk shortly after the wedding.”
He saw her eyes glittering in surprise, saw her soft mouth open. Jordan cupped her chin and touched her bottom lip with his thumb, hungry for the taste of her, as unlikely as that seemed. He barely knew her, and for the most part he didn’t like what he did know, but he felt as though he’d wanted her forever.
Without meaning to, without even wanting to reveal so much, he added, “By all accounts, my father was the type of man who would have loved this bar—as well as that little show of yours.” Slowly, he looked her over in his too large coat, her honey-brown hair wispy and curled with perspiration and rain, her flamboyant makeup smudged.
Her slender bare thigh rested only a few inches beside his, taunting him with its nearness. His hand was large enough that he could cover the entire front of her thigh with his splayed fingers. He could caress her skin, parting her legs as he inched higher and higher until he cupped her, felt her heat, her softness. The material of her body-suit would offer no obstruction at all. He could…
He muttered a low curse. With the drizzling rain outside sealing them