Now it was Trish’s turn to snort as she laughed at the unexpected insult. Still, even as she laughed, her mind whirled with all the information Zadia had given; all the things that suddenly made sense.
The Wolf sounded like he’d come in as a savior, in more than one way, to the people under the old warlord’s rule—including Jordan. No wonder Jordan was so loyal to the Wolf. No wonder the Wolf’s people didn’t blink about him taking Moon sex-slaves. Not only did they not care about the Moonies, but, compared to the old lord and his excesses, the Wolf wasn’t very tyrannical, and he left his own people alone—something the old lord hadn’t done.
If Trish had still been enrolled in the university, she could have written reams of papers about how the culture of the Earth had developed, especially in comparison to the ancient cultures. She was fascinated by the sociological ramifications—although perhaps some of her fascination stemmed from her preference not to too closely examine the personal psychological aspects of her current place in the culture.
Was part of the reason Trish found this bit of history so interesting because it pertained to Jordan? She’d always loved history and culture and the way people behaved and why they behaved the way they did, but this felt different.
It was on the way to Rio that Trish drummed up the courage to ask Jordan about his father. Why was she so nervous? Because Jordan had never mentioned the man once? Not that Jordan was super talkative anyway, but he’d made an effort for her and told her about his mother.
“What was your father like?” Trish tried to sound nonchalant. She’d worked her way around to the subject by talking about her own parents and the little she remembered about them wanting to visit the places on Earth that were still beautiful and full of nature rather than people.
His expression unchanging, Jordan reached out and pulled her onto his lap, away from the window on the transport.
She didn’t mind since they’d been over ocean for a while. There was nothing new to see and wouldn’t be until they came closer to land in another twenty minutes. She and Jordan weren’t the only ones on the transport, although they were the only ones from the Wolf’s compound.
“Unimportant.” Jordan wrapped his arms around Trish and ran his lips over her neck. Beneath her bottom, his groin began to stir to life, and her body answered with its own thrumming anticipation.
But she didn’t want to be distracted.
“That’s not what Zadia said.”
His arms stiffened, his body tensing beneath hers, and Trish felt bad. He didn’t want to talk about it, and here she was, pushing.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about him.”
Jordan’s fingers curved over her hips, caressing, and he began feathering small kisses along her neck again as Trish lether head fall back and her eyes close. There were other people on the transport, of course, but the seats hid most movements, and the people across the aisle from her and Jordan were asleep. They were more hidden than they usually were when he played with Trish.
Slowly, he relaxed as he touched her. Well, not all of him—his cock had hardened while the rest of his muscles had unwound.
“My father was unimportant to me,” he murmured, his voice so low she could barely hear him, though his lips were right next to her ear. As if in payment for dispensing this information, his hand reached up to squeeze her breast, his fingers gliding over the fabric of her dress and seeking out her nipple, which stiffened at his touch. Trish didn’t protest; she let him play with her body… and answer her question. “He was never part of my life.”
Now both his hands caressed her breasts, his face still buried in her neck as if he used her body to distract from any emotions that might bubble up. It distracted Trish, as well, and she wanted to moan as his kneading and pinching of her soft flesh made her squirm on his lap, the bulge of his cock throbbing beneath her.
“The one time he could have made a real difference, he did not. He cared for no one but himself.” Jordan’s voice was devoid of emotion, but his hands were rough on her breasts. Trish bit back a moan as he squeezed, hard, trapping her nipples between his fingers and pinching tightly. The fabric of her dress was soft, but now it abraded the tender buds as Jordan moved his fingers back and forth, making the fabric move as well.
He moved, turning, and settled her back onto her seat with his body half covering hers, his broad back keeping anyone from seeing what he did to her until they were directly above him and Trish. The look in his blue eyes was fierce, the lines of his face unyielding. Her breasts throbbed even though his hands hadmoved to where one arm curved around her back, supporting her, as the other thrust up her skirt.
“I will take care of you,” he whispered, his mouth covering hers as his fingers pressed into her wet pussy. He swallowed her cry as Trish reached for him, her hands clutching at his shoulders as he swirled his fingers, pumping them in and out. She shuddered, her pussy squeezing his fingers. Did anyone realize? Was anyone watching, trying to see more? Trish should have protested, but instead kissed him back as his fingers moved wickedly, confidently, his thumb circling and pressing against her clit while she writhed for him.
He finger-fucked her straight into an intense orgasm and then kept pumping her quivering pussy until she was limp from satiated bliss. Only then did he remove his fingers from her folds and suck them into his mouth, cleaning them of her cream, a satisfied smile on his face despite the huge bulge still pressing against the front of his pants.
Ten minutes later, they arrived in Rio.
Trish’s face when he first showed her into their new place soothed all Jordan’s worries. She liked it.
He looked around. The house was not huge but it was large enough, with several bedrooms, a big, open kitchen and living area that was already furnished, and a pool in the backyard. He and Trish were several doors down from where Marek and Laura had settled into their new home, which he’d be able to surprise Trish with, later.
“This is beautiful.” Trish craned her neck to look around, stepping forward with her hands out as though she might try to fill the space with her slim arms and fingers. The thin dress shewore was practically translucent with the strong light coming in through the windows, her legs visible through the skirt.
It had not escaped Jordan’s notice that Trish had become more relaxed with him since she’d been allowed to choose whether she stayed went back to her old life. More relaxed, more open with her observations, more willing to speak, even if they weren’t conversing. The Wolf had been right.
Choosing made a difference.
There was the backyard to show her, and all the amenities, but Jordan’s cock was still rock-hard from their moment in the transport. While Trish had been reluctant to let him fondle her there, she’d came hard on his fingers. He’d decided to wait until they were at the house to find his own satisfaction, in large part because of a room he wished to share with her.
“Come.” He took one of her outstretched hands and headed for the stairs. There was the slightest tug of resistance before she let herself be pulled along. Jordan glanced back at her, a little smile tugging his lips at the wistful expression on her face. Trish wanted to explore the downstairs. “You can look around soon, but there’s something I want to show you.”
Intrigued, she caught up and let him lead her up the stairs, past the other bedrooms and bathrooms, to the door at the end of the hall. Trish didn’t yet know their bedroom had been the first one the right. This room, however, was a special room.
