Chapter 121: 121 | The ROI on a Little Black Dress
They pulled into the Cooper Garment Lofts parking garage. Jordan found his spot and killed the engine. For a moment neither of them moved.
Then Chloe unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the center console. Her lips found his. Soft at first. Testing.
Jordan’s hand came up to cup the back of her head. His fingers tangled in her hair. The kiss deepened. Harder. Hungrier.
Chloe made a sound low in her throat. Her hand found his chest. She could feel his heart hammering under her palm, fast and hard, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.
Not enough. Need more. Need everything.
She pulled back, breaking the kiss. Her lips felt swollen, sensitive. Her breathing came in short, ragged gasps that fogged the cooling air between them.
"Upstairs," she said. The word came out rough, demanding. "Now."
Jordan didn’t argue. They got out of the car in a clumsy rush. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the elevator, his fingers lacing through hers. His palm was hot and slightly damp against hers, and she squeezed back hard enough to feel his bones.
The elevator ride felt like it took an hour. Chloe pressed herself against Jordan’s side, unable to maintain even an inch of space between them. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns on her hip through the thin fabric of her dress, each touch sending sparks racing up her spine.
"That dress is dangerous," he murmured into her hair, his breath hot against her ear.
"You picked it."
"I know. Worst decision I ever made." His hand slid lower, bolder now, cupping the curve of her ass and squeezing gently. "I’ve been thinking about taking it off you all night."
Chloe’s knees went weak. She grabbed his arm for support. "Then do it."
The elevator dinged. Fourth floor. They stumbled into the hallway like drunk teenagers. Chloe dug her keys out of her purse with shaking hands, fumbling through receipts and her phone and lipstick before her fingers finally closed around cold metal.
Jordan pressed against her back while she tried to unlock the door. His lips found the side of her neck, hot and wet and open-mouthed. His teeth grazed her pulse point, and she gasped, her hand jerking away from the lock.
"Jordan." Her voice came out breathless, barely audible. "I’m trying to—I can’t concentrate when you’re—"
"When I’m what?" His hands slid around her waist, gliding upward in a slow, torturous path. They cupped her breasts through her dress, his thumbs brushing over her nipples through the thin fabric and the lace of her bra beneath.
Oh God.
The key finally turned. Chloe shoved the door open. They stumbled inside. Jordan kicked it shut behind them and immediately spun her around, pressing her back against the wood.
His mouth crashed into hers. Hard. Desperate. His hands were everywhere at once. Her waist. Her hips. Sliding up her thighs, pushing her dress higher.
Chloe’s fingers found the knot of his tie. She yanked it loose. Started working on the buttons of his shirt.
"This stupid suit," she gasped between kisses. "Why are there so many buttons?"
Jordan laughed against her mouth. "You’re the one who taught me how to dress."
"I’m regretting it now." She got his shirt open and shoved it off his shoulders. Her hands found bare skin. Warm. Solid muscle under her palms. "Much better."
His fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress. He pulled it down in one smooth motion. The blue fabric pooled at her feet.
Jordan stepped back. His eyes went dark as he took her in.
Chloe stood in her matching black bra and panties. The ones from Victoria’s Secret she’d bought yesterday. The ones she’d been planning to show him all day.
"Jesus Christ," Jordan breathed.
"You like?" Chloe turned in a slow circle. Let him see everything.
"Like doesn’t cover it." His voice was rough. Strained. "You’re... I don’t have words."
"Then stop talking." Chloe reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. Let it fall.
Jordan’s eyes went wider. His breathing stopped completely.
Chloe hooked her thumbs into her panties. Pushed them down slowly. Stepped out of them.
Now she was completely bare except for her heels.
"Bedroom," Jordan managed. "We should. Bed."
"Probably." But Chloe didn’t move. She liked watching him struggle. Liked seeing the way his hands clenched at his sides like he was holding himself back.
"Chloe." Her name came out as a warning. "If you don’t move in the next five seconds, I’m going to take you right here against this door."
Heat flooded through her. "Promises, promises."
That broke his control. Jordan closed the distance between them in two strides. His hands gripped her waist and lifted. Chloe’s legs wrapped around him automatically. Her back hit the door as his mouth found hers again.
Yes. This. This is what I needed all night.
His hands slid down to cup her ass, supporting her weight. She could feel him hard against her through his slacks. The friction made her gasp into his mouth.
"Upstairs," she managed. "Please. I need. Jordan, please."
He didn’t need to be told twice. Jordan carried her across the living room and up the stairs to her loft. Somehow they made it to her bed without falling. He laid her down on the white sheets.
Chloe watched him strip off the rest of his clothes. The slacks. The underwear. Everything. Until he stood completely naked in the lamplight.
He’s perfect. How is he perfect? This doesn’t make sense.
But she didn’t care about making sense. She just wanted him.
Jordan climbed onto the bed. Settled between her thighs. His weight pressed her into the mattress.
"Hi," he said softly.
"Hi." Chloe reached up and touched his face. Traced the line of his jaw. "That was a nice dinner."
"It was." He kissed her palm. "Thank you for being amazing."
"I wasn’t amazing. I almost had a panic attack three times."
"You were amazing anyway." His lips moved to her wrist. Up her arm. Across her collarbone. "And now I get to have you all to myself."
"All yours," Chloe whispered. Then gasped as his mouth found her breast.
