Chapter 230: "You Look Beautiful"

Jordan’s quarters were nothing like the barracks Aren remembered from her first life.

Rather than a cramped military room, he had a spacious private suite tucked inside one of the compound’s main residential buildings, assigned to him so he could live and train separately from his siblings.

Aren stepped through the doorway and immediately slowed, her eyes traveling over the room with open curiosity.

She had wondered more than once what Jordan’s personal living space might look like. Given his position in House Marchetti, she had imagined something considerably grander, with the kind of luxuries that seemed almost obligatory for an heir of his standing.

Instead, the suite was surprisingly simple. Everything about it felt comfortable and lived-in, without the ostentation she had come to associate with the private residences of wealthy mafia families in Borgata.

The contrast delighted her enough that she remained just inside the entrance, quietly taking in one detail after another.

Behind her, Jordan was having a considerably less peaceful experience.

Before that afternoon, he had imagined bringing his girlfriend here more times than he cared to admit.

Those fantasies had rarely involved much conversation. More often, they had left him flushed, painfully hard, and in need of a considerable number of tissues afterward.

Now, at long last, she was actually here, although the reason for her visit was something he had never anticipated in any of those fantasies.

He had genuinely been looking forward to the conversation they needed to have. Yet standing there with the door closed behind them, suddenly alone with her in a space that belonged entirely to him, he discovered that his nerves had very little to do with the secrets she was about to reveal.

Aren stood so close that her back almost touched his chest.

She was still examining the room, apparently in no hurry to move farther inside, while Jordan found himself increasingly distracted by the familiar scent of her hair.

He’d missed her.

They’d both been busy these past few weeks, and most of their opportunities to see each other had been during her working hours at the compound.

Even then, they were rarely alone. There were always soldiers passing through, people coming to ask questions, or some obligation demanding his attention.

Now, there was no one to interrupt them. Unable to resist any longer, Jordan stepped forward and wrapped both arms around her waist, drawing her gently against him.

"Why aren’t you coming inside?"

He lowered his chin to her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair before brushing his lips against the side of her neck.

"Doesn’t my place look the way you imagined?"

Aren shivered at the unexpected touch.

He felt it immediately, the small tremor that passed through her body, but she made no attempt to pull away.

"It doesn’t, actually."

She turned her head slightly, bringing her face close enough to his that he could see the faint pink spreading across her cheeks.

"It’s so warm and cozy here. I wish we’d stopped by the yard to pick up Biscuit on our way." She chuckled softly. "He would have loved to visit, too. Although I suppose he’s enjoying himself too much running around outside right now."

Jordan chuckled with her, already imagining Biscuit racing across the training grounds, while several unfortunate men tried to keep the dog from getting into trouble.

"I bet he’s giving the soldiers the time of their lives." He tightened his arms around her. "But you know, that’s actually the perfect excuse for me to bring you here again."

She made no comment on that, simply brushing a light kiss against his cheek.

Then another.

And another.

Jordan closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the affection for a moment.

There was something almost unfair about the ease with which she could make him happy. She seemed perfectly content to continue giving him those small kisses, as though she had no idea how thoroughly they were undermining his self-control.

He turned his head, and this time, when she leaned toward him, his mouth found hers.

What began as a gentle kiss quickly became something more demanding. His lips moved against hers with an urgency she hadn’t expected, and when she parted her lips, his tongue met hers almost immediately.

Aren could feel herself growing breathless faster than usual.

Jordan had always been affectionate when they were alone, but there was something unusually intense about him today. He kissed her as though he had been holding himself back for far too long, drawing her closer each time she tried to catch her breath.

Then one of his hands left her waist and moved upward to cup her breast. A small whimper escaped her when his thumb brushed over her bra through the thin cotton of her T-shirt.

"Mm, Jordan..."

His fingers slipped beneath her shirt, found the upper edge of the bra cup, and eased it down. With her nipple exposed beneath the cotton, he began rolling it gently between his fingers through the fabric.

"Mm—hah..."

Pleasure rippled through her strongly enough that she bent forward without thinking, only to find herself pressing her hips farther back against him. The unmistakable hardness beneath his trousers made her breath catch again.

Jordan felt the contact, and a strangled groan escaped his throat.

"Hng—"

He knew perfectly well that this was getting out of hand. They had come here to talk. Yet the moment he had her in his arms, all the longing he’d been carrying around for weeks seemed to have caught up with him at once.

She was even responding to him, leaning into his touch, kissing him back with enough enthusiasm to make his already questionable self-control feel like a lost cause.

"I’m sorry," he whispered against her mouth.

He meant it. He even tried to draw back a little, although the hand still resting on her breast seemed considerably less committed to the apology.

"I just... I’ve missed you. We barely get any time alone together lately."

Aren turned her head enough to look at him. There was no annoyance in her expression, only a softness that made his chest ache.

"It’s okay," she murmured, her lips still close to his. "I’ve missed you too."

That simple admission undid what little restraint he had managed to recover.

He turned her in his arms and guided her against the nearest wall, catching her mouth in another kiss. His hands slipped beneath her T-shirt and lifted the fabric until it gathered above her breasts.

Aren’s eyes went wide with surprise.

"Jordan, this is..."

When she looked down, one breast remained covered by her bra, while the other was bare above its lowered cup. Her nipple was still tight and reddened from his earlier attention.

The sight hit him with dizzying force.

He lowered his head and closed his mouth over it, sucking firmly enough to make Aren press her back harder against the wall.

"Ah—yes, Jordan," she gasped. "I like it like that. That’s good."

"Mm, I know."

He released her nipple with a soft, wet sound and looked up at her. His hands moved to cup both her breasts, one already tugging the other bra cup aside so he could give her the same attention there.

"You look beautiful."

There was such open affection in his face that, for a moment, he seemed almost unaware of how thoroughly he had lost himself in her.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look to me right now, Ariana."

The words were tender.

Sweet.

So full of desire that, for Aren, they landed like a blow.

’Ariana.’

Usually, she could accept the name without much difficulty. She had become accustomed to responding to it, to hearing it spoken with affection, to letting people believe it belonged to her.

But here, with Jordan looking at her that way, the distinction became painfully difficult to ignore. Her body went rigid, and suddenly she couldn’t think about anything else.

Jordan noticed immediately.

The change in her was so abrupt that for a second he simply stared at her, trying to understand what had happened. When he saw her expression, a small, cold knot formed in his stomach.

Whatever he’d done, it had upset her.

His hands left her breasts at once and settled instead on her shoulders.

"What is it?" He kept his voice gentle, though his heart had begun beating unpleasantly fast. "Did I... do something you don’t like?"

"No."

Aren’s answer was quiet.

She looked at him with an expression he had never quite seen on her before, something strained and wounded enough to make his stomach tighten.

"It’s just..."

Her gaze dropped.

"This body... you see... Jordan..."

She struggled with the words until her voice had fallen almost to a whisper.

"It’s... not actually mine."

Jordan stopped moving.

For a brief moment, he wasn’t even certain he’d heard her correctly.

’Not hers?’

He looked at her, waiting for something more, some explanation that would make the words fit together in a way he could understand, but nothing came.

He could feel his confusion growing, but he tried not to let it show too plainly.

"Ariana... what do you mean?"

He raised one hand to her face, gently cupping her cheek just as she attempted to turn away.

"I’m not sure I followed. Can you... tell me that again?"

Aren gave him a strained little smile.

There it was. The exact reaction she’d been expecting.

She couldn’t blame him. In his position, she probably would have been just as bewildered. Perhaps even more so. And yet he was still being so patient with her, still looking at her as though all he needed was a little more information and everything would somehow make sense.

"I’m sorry," she said quietly. "I know this must be difficult for you to understand."

She searched his eyes, trying to find some way to make the impossible sound reasonable.

"I don’t know how else to explain it to you, Jordan, but... I’m not Ariana Lombardi. I’m not even from this world."