“It didn’t need four of us.” He pulled a box out of the bag. “Connie told me yesterday that your faucet was leaking. I brought a new one.”
“It’s probably only a washer. I don’t think it needs a whole new faucet set.”
“I’ll return it if it doesn’t. Got some washers, too.”
She was still standing at the sink, with the carafe resting on the counter. Her fingers hurt from holding the handle so tightly. “Well, thanks. I was making coffee, if you want some.”
“Great. I’ll take a look while it’s brewing.”
He hadn’t moved, maybe because she hadn’t moved. He didn’t want to get too close, probably thinking she might throw herself at him again. Lord, this was difficult.
She finally managed to cross to the other counter, where she busied herself measuring out scoops and pouring water. In a few moments, the rich scent of fresh coffee filled the air. But she could still smell him, as if he filled her head like the bubbles in a glass of champagne. The bag rustled, the cupboard under the sink where she kept the small tool chest creaked open, then the box plopped on the linoleum. Metal chinked against metal as he sifted through the tools looking for what he needed.
She chanced a quick glance. His gaze was on her, rising from the hem of her shorts to the sliver of bare skin between the waistband and her shirt. Her nipples suddenly tensed and ached.
She spoke before his eyes touched her breasts. “I’ll get my stuff organized while the coffee finishes.” Then she rushed out of the kitchen all the way to her office and closed the door. She leaned against the wood to catch her breath.
He’d looked at her. Not in any way he’d ever looked before. It didn’t mean anything. He was probably wondering if she’d bring up Saturday night at the bar. In his truck. That look might have been curiosity as to how she’d handle the situation. Maybe he was wondering how he should handle it.
It was obvious they couldn’t ignore it.
All right, buck up, kiddo. Get out there and deal with the mess you made of a very nice relationship.
* * * * *
He should have hightailed it out of there the minute he realized Taylor was home. He’d been ready to leave a strong note telling her she forgot to lock the damn front door again. But then he’d found her standing there in the kitchen. In a shaft of sunlight that made her hair glow with tones of red and gold.
He’d lost his voice and started thinking with his dick. Pretending to look for the right tools while she made coffee, he’d watched her legs, her butt in those shorts, the soft rise and fall of her breasts beneath the shirt. His gaze got caught on the outline of her nipples. He’d stayed in a squat beside the toolbox so she wouldn’t notice the raging hard-on in his jeans.
God had been looking down on him when she said she’d take care of stuff in her office. He didn’t want coffee, all he wanted to do was fix the damn faucet and get the hell out.
Before he put his hands on her.
She was right. The faucet needed only a new washer, but he’d bought the whole assembly in case, so he wouldn’t have to make a second trip. A second time might be his undoing. If this first trip wasn’t.
He tensed as her sandals pattered on the linoleum, but he didn’t turn. “It’s okay, I don’t need any coffee. Almost done here. It was a washer, like you thought.” The job complete, he turned the water on and off. “See, no drip.”
“Jace, I think we need to talk.”
The wrench slipped from his hand and hit the sink with a metal twang.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” He picked up the wrench, then hunkered down by the toolbox on the floor. “What about?” He didn’t look at her, instead futzing with the tools. Refitting stuff that already fit fine.
“About the other night.”
He almost crushed his thumb as he slammed the lid closed.
“I don’t want this to be an uncomfortable thing that sits between us.”
The thing that sat between them was the way he wanted her. The way he’d always wanted her. Saturday night in his truck had merely proven that. While he’d pretended he didn’t feel that way anymore, the need had rumbled around in his gut waiting for the right moment to burst forth. This time, he wasn’t going to be able to put it away again.
“Don’t worry about it, Taylor.” He hefted the box back under the sink, then stood, brushing the dust off his hands in a simple gesture. He’d never brush her out of his system as easily.
“I embarrassed you, and I’m sorry.”
She’d made him want to push up her skirt and drag down her panties. She turned him inside out, with her firm legs, that bit of skin showing beneath her shirt, and the slight peak of her nipples. His mouth went dry as a dust bowl.
“I want you to know that I’m over it.” She spoke to her toes. “I’m not going to do anything weird like that again. So you don’t need to worry.”
Did that mean she’d stop being a woman who needed a man, or that she simply didn’t need him? He couldn’t stand the thought. “You’re not going out to bars anymore?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist, plumping her breasts. Did she know what she did to him?
“No, I’m not going to bars anymore,” she answered softly.
“Maybe you ought to look at me when you promise that.”
He’d told her to look at him, but he was the one who couldn’t meet her gaze once she did. He couldn’t tear his own off her luscious nipples. He could swear they were tighter and harder than they had been a moment before. Bursting. Begging him to touch, to taste.
“Jace.” Low, husky, hot, her voice reached inside him.
His cock took on a life of its own. So did his feet as he walked to her until he could breathe her in. She tipped her head back to look at him.
“You’re lying,” he murmured. “You’ll do it again. You’ll have to.” He’d turn to murder if he caught her. “You’re still a woman. I know you are. God help us both.”
Her eyes, the color of warmed whiskey, darted to his lips. Her tongue flicked out, leaving a glistening trail.
He slowly wrapped her hair around his fist and held her still. “No more bars. No more slick cowboys. I’ll give you what you need, Taylor.” It wasn’t a conscious decision, merely a need pulsing in him that matched hers. He’d be damned to hell rather than let her give herself to anyone else.
He arched slightly to rub his cock against her. She moaned. With every fast breath she took, her nipples stroked his chest, lighting a fire deep in his belly. He knew it was a freaking bad idea, but worse was imagining her sneaking off to fill her needs elsewhere.
“Jace...” She licked her lips. “We shouldn’t—”
He couldn’t let her finish. “Deal, Taylor? You come to me when you need a man?”
He took care of the kids. He took care of the house. He’d take care of this, too.
Jace tipped her chin up with his finger. “Answer me, Taylor.”
Taylor’s panties were drenched, she’d gone light-headed from lack of breath, and more than anything, she wanted to taste him. All of him. His lips, his tongue, his skin, his semen. It had been so long since she’d taken a man in her mouth. He smelled salty and hot, felt hard and insistent.
She threw herself at him for the second time in two days. She started the kiss, but he took over. His mouth opened, then his tongue and lips devoured her. She tasted and savored and wanted. Pressing her breasts to his chest, she rubbed against him, the ache in her even stronger than the other night. This was stupid. It was crazy. They’d both regret it later. But right now, she didn’t care about later.
Slipping her hand between them, she cupped him. God, he was hard. And big. And she needed him. Now. Pushing him away, she slid down his body until her knees touched the linoleum. Fingers fumbling, she tore at his belt, undoing it and going for the snaps of his jeans. Then she felt his hands in her hair and looked up.
His eyes were dark and oh so readable. His penis flexed against her throat as she leaned in. And she had to know. “H
ave you ever imagined me doing this to you?”
He swallowed, tipped his head back, then finally looked down at her again. “All Saturday night. All last night, too. And the whole time you were walking around your backyard yesterday.”
Lord, she so pathetically needed to hear that. She popped the buttons slowly, then dragged his briefs down until he sprang free. A drop of moisture pearled on the tip. She licked it away, then closed her eyes to relish the salty taste. Jace groaned.
“More,” he whispered.
Taking him in her hand, she guided his cock between her lips. Oh, oh, it felt so good. Filling her. She glided all the way down, meeting her fisted hand with her lips. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling, the slight pain adding to the luxury of his taste. Swirling her tongue, she rose again, then sucked on the very tip. He cupped the back of her head and pushed gently. Taking him all the way, she removed her hand at the last moment until he touched the back of her throat. Her muscles tensed around him, dragging yet another choked groan from him. Faster, she took him, sucking harder, grazing him with her teeth. His hips began to rock with her motion, and his hands massaged her scalp, sometimes biting, sometimes soothing.
She gave his body’s movements free rein as she grabbed onto his hard thighs to steady herself. His muscles bunched beneath her fingers.
Then suddenly he pulled free. “Christ, I can’t hold off. You have to stop or I’m gonna lose it.”
“I want you to come. In my mouth. Please.”
“Oh God.”
She took that for a yes and drew him back between her lips, back home, where she wanted him. Then he came, crying out, holding himself deep as he poured inside her, trapping her head against his belly, holding her with his legs.
She drank every drop as it if were wine. She memorized every jerk of his body, every sound falling from his lips.
It was heaven. She learned it wasn’t only her own orgasm she’d needed, but his. The sound of a man’s pleasure, the rumble of his desire, the grip of his fingers in her hair as if she were the only one who could wrench such a powerful reaction from him.
She licked him clean as his throb in her mouth died, then looked up at him.
“Jesus Christ, Taylor, Jesus.” His gaze was slightly unfocused and his breath rasped in his chest.
Even on her knees, she felt powerful. She felt wonderful. She felt like a woman.
Then a car door banged.
“Holy shit, it’s my mother.”
Jace jerked away and began buttoning his jeans. “Christ, your lipstick’s all over the place.”
It was all over his mouth, too.
Taylor rose as if she had all the time in the world, as if they weren’t standing to the left of the kitchen window, where, within a few seconds, Evelyn would be able to see them.
As if she hadn’t just swallowed his essence and loved it.
She smiled, swiped her hand across his mouth to wipe off the traces of her lipstick, then leaned close. “You answer the door. I’ll just...freshen up.”
“I can’t answer the door like this.” Panic threaded his voice.
She leaned back and tipped her head. “Like what?”
“Like—like I’ve been—”
She wanted to laugh at his wild-eyed look. “Like you just came in my mouth?” What they’d done made her feel wild in a completely different way.
“Shit, Taylor.”
“She’s not going to know. You answer the door and let me fix my lipstick.”
Then she left him, scampering across the living room.
Lord. She hadn’t felt this good in...well, in over three years.
Chapter Four
His body still hummed. It was seriously not a good feeling to have around his mother.
But Jesus Christ, Jace wanted more of Taylor. If his mother hadn’t arrived, he’d have dragged off Taylor’s shorts and taken her right there on the kitchen floor. Then on the counter. Then probably on the table, too.
She’d blown his mind as well as his body. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight than Taylor on her knees before him. Jesus. His brother’s wife. The feelings he had for her were so damn wrong. Yet what she’d done felt so damn right.
His hand shook slightly as he opened the door, and he’d only just gotten his breathing under control. “Hey, Mom, I’m fixing Taylor’s faucet. She’s back in her office, I think.”
His mom looked him over, as if he were fifteen and trying to sneak out of the house with one of his dad’s beers.
“Hi, Mom.” Taylor’s smile was cheery and her lipstick perfect, but the soft pink glow of lovemaking still tinged her skin. He hadn’t tasted her nipples or the sweet flesh between her thighs. He hadn’t had near enough of her. Nowhere freaking near enough. But dammit, he couldn’t have more. He wouldn’t.
Looking from him to Taylor, his mom finally said, “You forgot the time cards when you rushed off earlier.”
Taylor tapped her forehead. “Silly me. You didn’t have to bring them, I could have come back.” She held out her hand.
“I had to go out for some envelopes anyway.”
“You want some coffee? I made a fresh pot for Jace. He fixed the faucet for me. It was a washer and didn’t need the whole thing replaced.”
His mother looked from one to the other again, and Jace knew they’d made one too many faucet references. Then she said, “Sure. I’d love a cup. But don’t let me overstay my welcome.”
“Never,” Taylor said, leading the way into the kitchen.
“I have to meet Dad and the guys out at the Carmichaels’, so I’ll take off.” His dad didn’t need him, but Jace needed to get out of the house badly. He grabbed the door.
“Thanks, Jace. For fixing the faucet.” Taylor gave him a smile, and he was damn sure she wasn’t thanking him for the new washer.
Fishing in his pocket for his keys, he was already making plans for how he could come back during lunch. How he could sneak off for another taste of her. Despite knowing how bad an idea that was.
Dammit. He was losing his mind.
He was almost to his truck when the door flew open. “You forgot the other faucet.”
Maybe he could drag her into the truck and drive off.
“Thanks.” He took it, his fingers brushing hers. Electricity seemed to jolt up his arm.
“No. Thank you. You didn’t have to rush over, you know.”
He wondered if she was shooting him some subliminal message he wasn’t getting. Then he didn’t care, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Ask my mom to take the kids Friday night.”
Her eyes went wide, the playful smile dying on her lips. “What?”
He let his gaze travel her face, then fall to her breasts. Her nipples were still hard. Or hard again. He liked the effect too damn much. “We didn’t finish. You didn’t come. I didn’t come inside you. We won’t be finished until that happens.”
He was on the road to rack and ruin, because he knew he’d never be finished with Taylor. He’d crossed a line, and there was no going back to the way it used to be.
She bit her lip. He wanted to suck it into his mouth, touch his tongue to hers, and rub his cock between her legs.
“Meet me by the old barn at Miller’s Pond Friday at dark. Eight-thirty.”
She stared at him. In the heat of the moment, she hadn’t thought ahead to the real meaning of what they’d done.
“Say yes, Taylor.” He knew how wrong it was, but he wouldn’t allow her to turn back now.
“Jace, we can’t. If anyone finds out—”
He shushed her with a look, though he wanted to put his finger to her lips, one more caress to stop her words, to sear his touch into her mind. “No one will know if we’re careful.”
Doubt clouded her eyes. His heart shriveled. He was her brother-in-law. Worse, Lou was dead because of him. In her mind, now that the conflagration between them had cooled to a simmer, what they’d done held a caste of shame. He was crazy to ask for more. What h
e’d get was big trouble. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Be there.”
She shook her head, her eyes dazed with the enormity of what had happened in her kitchen. He didn’t think he even had a fifty-fifty chance of her showing up. But he’d be there, waiting, dreaming, praying.
He tossed the bag with the faucet onto the front seat, a hand on the truck’s door, and added one final inducement. “And Taylor, don’t wear any panties.”
* * * * *
Don’t wear any panties.
Taylor kept hearing Jace say that in a husky whisper. Over and over. She couldn’t concentrate on Evelyn’s conversation.
The euphoria had lasted fifteen minutes, maybe less, before the guilt and fear set in. She knew she couldn’t meet him.
But Lord, he’d tasted good. So good. Felt good.
She put too much creamer in her coffee and not enough sugar. Did Evelyn suspect anything? She’d tossed about lots of odd, assessing looks. But Evelyn couldn’t know, not for sure.
Don’t wear any panties.
She couldn’t get the sound of Jace’s voice out of her head. Lord, the way he made her feel. Like a woman again. Powerful. Wanted. Sexy. Desirable. Things she hadn’t felt in so long.
But he was her husband’s brother. She couldn’t touch him again. Not that way. She couldn’t hurt this family.
Jesus Christ, Taylor, Jesus. Her name on his lips as he came, filling her mouth, filling her heart. Lord, he was right. They hadn’t finished what was between them. They’d barely begun.
And Evelyn was staring at her with another of those assessing looks.
Taylor knew she shouldn’t. It was insane, risky. She could rip her family apart. But she needed one more taste of Jace. Just one more, then she’d stop. Swear to God.
“I was wondering if you could take the kids Friday night. For a little while.”
Her mother-in-law gazed at her, then blinked and said, “Sure. You know we always enjoy having the boys over.”
Her stomach tied itself into guilty knots. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Somebody's Lover Page 3
