Jordan Summers Read Online Free PDF

I should have ordered water,” he said, glancing down. He dabbed at the tomato juice ineffectively with his napkin.
    “Let me get that cleaning slip. If you want to make your way to the front of the cabin, I’ll be right with you,” Delaney repeated, moving to the closet where Jeremy had stored the jacket.
    She plucked a cleaning slip from the stack situated at the top of the closet on a small shelf, then began to search the clothing for seat numbers. Jeremy, the flirt, had been busy. There were at least nine jackets hanging in the closet. Despite that fact, it only took her a second to find Jack’s suit coat. She glanced down the aisle to ensure he wasn’t watching, then stuck a pinlike tracking device into the lining of his jacket.
    Delaney shut the closet door. It was done. Now she’d be able to track Mr. Gordon once he reached Los Angeles. She tucked the cleaning slip into her pocket and walked to the forward galley. Jack stood behind the galley wall out of view of the main cabin, dripping fat red drops onto the burnt orange rubber floor.
    “A little club soda will take that right out.” She opened a hatch in the galley and plucked a can of club soda out of its hiding place. “I never knew what a miracle product this was,” she said, rambling like an idiot.
    Relax, no one in the cabin can see you. You’ve worked undercover before. This isn’t your first day on the job. So what if all the cases had been minor.
    It didn’t matter that this was the biggest case she had ever been assigned or that her promotion and the well-being of who knew how many innocent citizens were riding on her success. Her duty was to get next to Jack Gordon and she had…sort of.
    Delaney walked around Jack, careful not to touch him, not because she was worried about getting tomato juice on her uniform, but because she didn’t like the feelings he invoked when they touched.
    She grabbed a handful of paper towels, and turned the galley lights on bright, so she could see what she was doing. It was worse than she thought. A massive spot covered Jack’s jeans from groin to midthigh. Delaney took a deep breath and blew it out.
    “This is going to be a bit cold, but it can’t be helped,” she warned.
    “Believe me, it already is.” He laughed, a rich robust sound that sent tremors racing through her body.
    “Stand still.”
    “What are you going to—” The words died in Jack’s throat and his blue eyes widened in comprehension.
    It didn’t occur to Delaney that there was a problem until she slowly dropped to her knees and came face to zipper with one very impressive Jack Gordon.
     
    J ACK’S MIND CEASED to function as the flight attendant dropped to her knees before him. The cold he’d felt only moments ago faded into a slow burn that seemed to rise at the speed at which her slender hands made contact with his jeans.
    He spied the name on her wings. Delaney. Pretty name for such a…He revised his earlier assessment of her. She was still the girl next door, but there was something alluring about her doe-like eyes. They were luminous and shimmering like the ocean at night on a full moon. Her lips were neither plump nor thin, but somewhere in between.
    He wondered just how much they’d swell if someone kissed her senseless. Despite some trembling, her hands continued to work, patting his jeans with club soda. Earlier she’d deliberately avoided his gaze, which told him that she wasn’t exactly immune in the situation.
    The slow graceful movements she made while stroking his inner thigh had Jack thinking of where else he’d like to have her caress. “I’m Jack Gordon,” he said, clearing his throat and willing his shaft to remain flaccid, which was as effective as spitting in the wind to put out a forest fire.
    “Delaney Car—Carson,” she rasped.
    Her eyes rounded more, if it were even possible. Hand raised, she hesitated an inch away from his leg, her gaze darting from the wet spot to his growing need and back again.