Somebody's Lover (11 page)

“He must have touched you if you
thought you were pregnant.”

“I mean after I told him I might be
pregnant.” Connie shifted enough so that her words were muffled in her arms.

Taylor sat back. “You said you were
going to wait until you were sure.”

Connie raised her head. “I couldn’t
help myself. I was so excited. And I cooked this gorgeous dinner and put the
kids to bed early, and—” She threw herself across her arms again. “And it all
went to hell in a hand basket.”

“When was this?”

“Friday.”

Friday. When Jace had been making
glorious love to her. Well, that was a melodramatic sentiment. He’d been
fucking her. Didn’t he always call it fucking instead of making love? It hadn’t
bothered her until this moment. In fact, the word was sexy when said in that
husky, needy way of his.

“He won’t talk to me,” Connie
moaned.

Ah, the silent treatment. Lou had
been an expert. But she couldn’t think about Lou now. She needed time alone for
that. For reflection and analysis. Like tonight, after she’d dropped the boys
off at Connie’s. In the bath—a nice, steamy bath with a tangerine fizz ball
scenting the water.

While she waited for Jace to
arrive.

She knew he would. He had to. She
wanted to believe he couldn’t help himself. How far she’d sunk. Their affair would
eventually blow up in her face, but taking him in the bathroom
had
been
an irrevocable decision. She’d chosen not to stop, to have him whenever she
could. She just needed to figure out how her revelations about Lou changed
everything.

“You’re not listening to me.”

“Of course, I am.” What had Connie
said?

“I said my period started this
morning. I feel all bloated and ugly and achy and I hate it.”

She knew Connie hadn’t said all
that. “Did you take some ibuprofen?”

Connie scrunched her lips
mutinously. “I don’t need drugs. I need a baby.”

The truth hurts, but sometimes it
had to be said. “You know, Mitch has got to want the baby, too.”

“But I’m the one who carries it.
I’m the one up all night feeding and diapering and soothing. I take care of
everything.”

“And Mitch pays for everything.”

“You sound just like him. A big
family was something we always planned on having.” Connie glared.

Well, she’d said her piece. Connie
didn’t want to listen. Done. “What did he say when you told him you weren’t
pregnant?”

“I haven’t told him. He’d already
left.”

“Well, at least it will give you a
chance to work out a compromise.”

“How do you compromise on a baby,
Taylor? You either have one or you don’t. There is no compromise.”

“You can compromise on the timing.”
She patted Connie’s hand. “You’re only twenty-nine. There’s time.” She wondered
if Jace wanted children of his own. He was so good with the boys.

The ultimate quick-change artist,
Connie dried her eyes and sighed. “You’re right. I’m just feeling sorry for
myself.” She touched Taylor’s hand. “I don’t know how you put up me.”

“Because I love you like a sister.”

Connie sniffed one last time. She
was never down for long. “Mitch and I will work it out. I’ll convince him
somehow.”

“I know you will.” Taylor wasn’t
sure of that, but she didn’t want Connie to start crying again. “What time
shall I bring the boys over?”

Connie’s eyebrows popped up.
“Better make it around four. Are you sure you’re going to be all right on your
own? You could come, too, if you want.”

Right. That is not what Connie had
planned. Taylor didn’t know how she felt about Connie playing matchmaker.
Connie didn’t really get all the family dynamics. Everything was black and
white to her. She had a baby, or she didn’t. What Mitch wanted was irrelevant.
Taylor wanted Jace, or she didn’t. What Evelyn and Arthur thought about it was
immaterial.

Things weren’t that simple.

Maybe they would be after tonight.
After she’d slept in Jace’s arms and woken up beside him in the morning.

* * * * *

Jesus, he was freaking nervous. He
parked around back on Lou’s old motor-home pad so his truck couldn’t be seen
from the road, since he intended to leave it there all night.

Taylor had turned off the outside
lights. The kitchen and family room were dark, blinds closed, as well as her
bedroom. The only beacon guiding him, besides the moon, shone from the small
bathroom window.

Unlocking her front door, Jace
stepped into a collage of scents and candle flame flickering across the walls.
She’d left four candles burning on the table. The main bathroom was to the left
of the family room. Steam spilled out into the hallway.

He braced himself with his hands on
either doorjamb.

The long, narrow room smelled like
tangerines. Steam beaded on his forehead. She stood in front of the mirror, hair
streaming over her shoulders, torso wrapped in a towel, and her left foot on
the counter. Smoothing lotion from her calf to her knee, she then delved
beneath the towel to knead the cream into her thigh.

Je-sus. He went up in smoke.

She put her foot down and held out
the tube to him.

“I haven’t done the other leg. Do
it for me.”

Squeezing a generous amount in his
hand, he went down on one knee. “Give me your foot.”

She raised her leg, the towel
falling open with a tantalizing sneak peak. Starting with her foot, he spread
the lotion up her calf and thigh, his fingers lightly brushing the curls at her
center. Taylor shivered.

He started over at the bottom,
rubbing in the excess, first her instep, toes, ankle. She steadied herself with
a hand on his shoulder, kneading him the way he did her.

“You give good rub,” she murmured,
her voice a low caress.

“I give good other things, too.”

She put her head back. “Mmm. I
know.”

She had no idea how good he could
be. After tonight, though, she would. After tonight, she wouldn’t be able to
turn him away. He started on her thigh. A moan escaped her.

He tugged on her towel. “You don’t
need this.”

She freed the upper edge, and the
whole thing pooled behind her on the rug.

She took his breath away. He
couldn’t move beyond the simple touch of his gaze on her. She was perfect.
Plump breasts, creamy, rounded belly, and dusky curls at the apex of her
thighs. Moisture glistened there. He leaned forward to tongue it away like the
sweetest wine.

She rewarded him with a sharp
intake of her breath and a soft sound in her throat.

He nosed her belly button. “You’re
beautiful.”

“I’ve got stretch marks times two.”

He put his lips to each and every
one. “They’re gorgeous.”

She ran her hand through his hair,
then fisted her fingers and pulled his head back. “You are a freak.”

He grinned. God, he loved her. Like
this. Making him laugh. Making him hot.

“Hey, I’m trying to be romantic
here, and you’re throwing my compliments back in my face.”

“You don’t have to be romantic to
get what you want.”

His smile died. “Tell me what you
think I want.”

She pushed her hips against him.
“To fuck me.”

He’d never heard her use that word,
and he took so long to speak, he knew she doubted he’d answer. He gave her what
she asked for. The truth. “Oh, yeah. I want to fuck you. Over and over. Until
you don’t ever want me to stop.” Taking her butt in his hands, he brought her
to his face, breathed her in, held her scent. “Not fucking ever, Taylor.”

She combed both hands through his
hair, massaging his scalp, his temples, the back of his neck. “Then get
started.”

She didn’t understand what he was
saying, but he let it go. For now. Pushing her to the wall, he put his hand
between her legs and opened her to his touch.

He’d have her this way now, her
body, her orgasms. And hope like hell she’d give him her heart and soul someday
soon.

She already owned his.

Jace tongued her moist center with
slow circles. She forgot her gentle massage in his hair and tightened her
fingers, pulling at the roots. He only went at her harder, faster.

“Oh God, Jace, you look so hot
doing that.”

He raised his head long enough to
lock gazes with her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged and guided
him back.

The sight of Jace, holding her
still, his head between her legs, his black-clad shoulders against her naked
skin was incredibly erotic. A fresh burst of moisture filled her. Taylor had
never imagined how sensual the light could be.

Jace made her feel beautiful. She
preened for the mirror, arching her back, biting her lip, pinching her nipple.
Heat shot down through her belly to her clitoris. She jerked against his mouth.
He gripped her bottom harder, pushed deeper, then sucked her clitoris into his
mouth in a rush of mind-blowing pleasure.

Leaning her head against the wall,
she watched herself in the mirror through half-closed lids. A woman on fire. A
woman dazed. A woman taken completely by the man between her thighs.

She raised her foot, stroking him
with her calf until he let go with one hand and pulled her leg over his
shoulder. Now fully open to him, he pushed two fingers into her. Her toes
curled, she moaned, cried out, leaped to the sky, and closed her eyes.

“Don’t ever stop, please don’t ever
stop, God. Jace.” She panted and squirmed. He wouldn’t let her go, branding her
with his mouth and his tongue, his fingers still inside her.

Lou had never made her feel this
way.

Jace eased off, lapping at her
lightly, keeping her close to the edge, hungry for more, but back in her own
body.

I want to fuck you. Over and
over. Until you don’t ever want me to stop.

It was the closest he would ever
come to telling her how he felt about her. Taylor understood that. She’d
learned that this morning, along with her own set of revelations. She rubbed
his head, needing to feel him beneath her fingers. Then, her hands on his
cheeks, she made him look at her. His eyes were dark pools, and his lips shone
with her moisture. She bent to lick it off, then eased down on her knees
between him and the wall, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

Her own taste along with his
lingered in her mouth. His heart beat next to hers, hard, fast, as if what he’d
done had turned him inside out just as it had her. He freed the tangles she’d
somehow gotten in her hair.

“I’ll never stop. Not until you
want me to.” His voice rumbled against her chest, her lips. She kissed his
throat.

She feared talk of the future, of
his parents, of telling each other dreams they might never share together. She
feared learning the real reasons he seemed to want her so badly. She had the
boys, the family, and a life that included Jace in a role he’d played all his
life. Not the role he’d played this week.

Reaching between them to palm his
erection, communicating with her touch, she put her worries and her ghosts
aside. Until tomorrow. For tonight, she’d take this, Jace in her hands, her
mouth, her body. “We shouldn’t stop yet.”

Pulling back, he put his hand over
hers, and together they brought him once more to hot, heavy breathing and rock
hardness.

“Let me handle the whole thing
while you keep your clothes on.” She liked his black jeans and shirt next to
her nakedness, the rasp of the rough material against bare skin that was
unbearably sexy.

Pushing him back to rest on his
elbows, she undid his belt and popped the buttons, being sure to let her fingers
brush him time and again.

“Don’t make me come. I want to be
inside you for that.”

“Shh. We have all night.”

She grabbed the waistband of his
jeans and briefs, pulling them over his hips as he lifted slightly to make the
job easier. His erection jumped free.

He stroked himself. She batted his
hand away. “Stop that. I get to do it all.”

“You loved listening to me do it
the other night.”

She had, more than she’d ever
thought she would. “I’d rather lick you myself.” She climbed between his legs,
taking him in her hand.

He pulled her hair off her face,
fisting it into a ponytail. “Yeah. I like watching you do that, too. But one
day, I want to stand at the foot of the bed while you make yourself come.”

“That is so bad.” The idea turned
her insides to jelly. “You’re messing with my concentration here.”

He kept talking when she took the
tip of his penis into her mouth and sucked. “It would be the most beautiful
thing I’ve ever seen. Except when you dropped the towel.” He pushed gently on
her head, and she slid down his length. “oh shit, that’s so damn good.” His
hips rose, driving him deeper.

He talked, a nonstop litany of
compliments and curse words. Lou had never talked or laughed during sex. Jace
turned it all into something about her, about the perfect feel of her hand at
his base, the incredible swirl of her tongue, the absolute rightness of her
sucking the tiny drop of semen from his slit.

“I love watching you do that. Your
lips are so red and so sweet. You’re so fucking good for me.”

He moved her head, angled her,
thrust up against her, drove harder as if he were making love to her mouth.

“Jesus, Taylor, fuck.”

His words, his sounds, his groans
of pleasure made her body weep with need. When he began to throb in her mouth,
when he was close to pumping himself into her, his hands on her head drove him
as deep as he could go. She dug her fingernails into his sides, squeezed her
thighs, and came at the moment he exploded.

His body jerked, he shouted her
name, and held her as she drank from him. When he was empty and she was full,
he lay prone on the floor. She collapsed across his hips and rested her face on
his belly. Gently stroking her hair, her cheek, her lips, he whispered words
she couldn’t hear over the pounding of her own heart and the rush of air in and
out of her lungs.