Jo takes my hand and drags me to the crosswalk. As soon as the light changes, she makes a beeline for the steps, darting up them with me close behind.
She comes to a stop at the top of the iconic steps, standing with her eyes glued to the saxophonist, swaying a little to the music. I step up behind Jo, wrapping my arms around her as we listen. She rests her arms over mine and I lean my head against hers. Somehow, the Lincoln Center plaza is empty but for the musician and the crashing fountain, and it feels like this moment is meant for us and us alone.
“Dance with me, Hurricane,” I murmur in her ear.
“What?” She turns her head up to look at me.
“I know you were disappointed to miss Midsummer Night Swing when you were sick. This may not be swing dancing, but it is Lincoln Center, and it’s nighttime, and there’s music and everything. Dance with me.”
Jo turns in my arms and grins up at me.
“Is it possible you’re a secret romantic?”
I shrug. “Could be.”
“I like it. I would love to dance with you, J.”
I slide an arm around Jo’s waist and rest our joined hands on my chest. She wraps an arm around my neck, her fingers toying with the hair at my nape. The song switches to “New York State of Mind,” and Jo’s body is pressed against mine as we sway to the music. I dip my head, pressing a kiss to her temple and closing my eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer rightness of it all.
Wrapped in my arms is something I never thought I would find again. A woman who makes me laugh and makes me want and makes me consider a future I didn’t think was available to me anymore. Jo seems to understand innately what I’ve been through and is happy to walk alongside me while I do the endless work of untangling grief and getting on with the business of living.
The way I want Jo is deep and primal and the absolute opposite of slow and careful. Maybe it’s low-key terrifying to go from kissing her to all the other things I want to do with her, but it’s also something the old Jordan would do, and for a minute, it feels like visiting with an old friend.
“What’s going on in your brain, J?”
Jo’s murmured question yanks me out of my thoughts and back into the moment. “What do you mean?”
“You’re thinking pretty loud for dancing under the stars. What’s on your mind?”
I smile against her hair because, yeah, she knows me. It feels so good to be known again. “You’re on my mind.”
“Me, huh?” Jo glides her thumb along my palm, and the small movement heats my blood and settles every single part of me. It’s a fascinating combination.
“Yep.”
“What are you thinking about me, exactly?”
I turn us in a slow circle and have the thought that I could stand here forever, dancing with Jo to saxophone music under the stars. “I’m thinking that the way I feel about you should terrify me. And it does, but in this moment, I can’t remember any of the reasons why. I’m thinking I should want to take this slow, but I don’t. I’m thinking that your hair smells good, and I like the way your skin feels when I touch it and the way your body feels pressed up against mine.”
Jo tips her face back, a small smile playing on her lips. “Those are really good thoughts.”
“Yeah?”
Standing on her tiptoes, Jo presses her lips to mine in a slow, dizzying dance of a kiss that fuzzes my brain. When she pulls back, her eyes are a little hazy with lust and heat and feelings that make my stomach roll. “Yeah. And I’ll be honest, J. Slow has never really been my speed.”
All the remaining blood in my body moves south so fast I get lightheaded as my cock jerks, and I know she feels it because she chuckles at the same time as her body tenses, just a little, betraying a hint of nerves below her bravado. Somehow, it has my need for her soaring. We’re both flying without a net here, but whatever we do, we’re doing it together.
I lean down and kiss the spot below her ear that makes her shiver. “You ready to go home?”
“So freaking ready.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
JO
Goddamn, he can kiss.
It’s my one conscious thought as Jordan kicks my bedroom door shut and turns us so my back is pressed against it. He grips my hips and tugs me to him, moving his mouth over mine in a kiss that is the opposite of soft and sweet. I tangle my hands in his hair and take everything he’s giving me. This kiss is focused and determined. It’s hot and wet. It’s lips and tongues and teeth and fingers streaking up to graze my ribs and the sides of my breasts before moving back down to grasp my hips.
