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Jessica's Wish

Page 11

by Marci Bolden


  “Have you picked a restaurant?” she asked.

  “You should pick.”

  With her sweater draped over her forearm, she grinned. “But I asked you out, so you should pick.”

  “Mexican.”

  She crinkled her nose. “You should pick something other than Mexican.”

  “That little Italian place on the square is good.”

  Her pursed lips let him know she didn’t agree.

  Laughing, he shrugged. “Why don’t you pick?”

  She started for the door but stopped right in front of him. Inches from him. The teasing in her eyes faded as she blatantly skimmed her eyes over his face. The air between them shifted from teasing to tense—a good kind of tension.

  “Maybe,” she whispered, “we should just order something for delivery.”

  “We could do that,” he agreed. Sliding his arm around her lower back and digging the fingers of his other hand into her hair, he pulled her to him. With no air of pretense, he claimed her mouth and she claimed his. This was much better than their first attempt at kissing. This mutual meeting of passionate lips sent heat straight through him, and the deep moan that vibrated up her throat and into his mouth told him she was just as pleased.

  “Take your coat off,” she said breathlessly when their lips parted. “Stay a while.”

  His coat fell in a lump of black fleece around their feet. He ignored it as he pulled her to him again, this time using his hands on her hips to steer her toward the sofa. She fisted his shirt as she eased down, pulling him with her until he was stretched over her while she sank into the soft cushions. Holy hell. Looking down into her eyes, he was planning to tell her he had no expectations of intimacy if she wasn’t ready, but the desire in her gaze stopped his words before they started.

  She obviously wanted him just as much. His body lit on fire, an inferno that only this woman could put out but one that he hoped she never did. He wanted to burn like this for her forever. He suspected he would.

  Lifting her head, she caught his mouth again, sliding her tongue between his lips and drawing him in with the taste of strawberries. He guessed it was the flavored water she liked to drink, but in that moment it was everything he’d come to expect from her.

  Sweet. Tempting. Captivating.

  He couldn’t stop dipping his tongue in, demanding more. Running his hand down her side, he nearly melted into her when his palm found the soft skin of her thigh where her skirt had ridden up.

  She pressed her hands against his chest as she struggled to release the buttons of his shirt. He didn’t want to break their heated kiss, but he leaned back and undid the first two buttons so he could tug it over his head and toss it aside. She gripped his sides, pulling him back to her, but he resisted. With his shirt discarded, he started working on the buttons of hers. He took care, not only because he didn’t want to tear her buttons but because he suddenly felt the need to slow down and enjoy this time with her. He’d never been one to tear the wrapping paper from his presents. He’d been the type to work the tape free and ease the paper from the box so he could build the anticipation.

  Releasing the last button of her shirt was even better than all the birthday and Christmas presents combined. Her breathing was shaky and shallow by the time he slid his fingers into the opening he’d created. Easing one side open, he slowly released his breath as her lacy nude bra was exposed. He delicately scooped the globe of her breast into his palm and squeezed tentatively, brushing his thumb over the point of her nipple.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” she whispered. “For God’s sake, Phil.” Pressing her hand to his, she tightened his hold on her breast as she arched into him. “I’m not going to break.”

  He laughed quietly. “I’m just admiring you.”

  “That’s very sweet,” she stated. “Maybe you could do that after.”

  Meeting her gaze, he grinned. “Are you in a hurry?”

  “We have”—she pulled his hand from her breast to check his watch—“about an hour and ten minutes before you have to leave me. Admire me when we have time to spare.”

  He tried to fight his smile. “That could be a while.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Resting his forehead to hers, he kissed her lightly. “It’s important to me that you know that I care about you, and I—”

  She kissed him firmly, cutting him off.

  “And,” he continued when she leaned back, “I respect you. And—”

  Staring into his eyes, she seemed to be scrutinizing him. Then she planted her palms against his chest and pushed until he sat back. When she was untangled from his body, she stood. For a moment, he thought she was going to tell him she’d changed her mind, but she grabbed his hand and led him through her house right to her bedroom.

  When she faced him, she had her usual sarcastic tilt to her lips, but her eyes were on fire. She pulled her shirt off, letting it fall to the floor, and then reached behind her back and released the zipper on her skirt. The material pooled around her feet, leaving her standing in her underwear and a pair of white, open-toed heels. She kicked her skirt away, standing with her hands on her slender hips as he soaked in every inch of her.

  His gaze landed on a tattoo just above her panty line. A bright red cherry seemed to have a secret meaning, but he knew it didn’t mean what it implied. Every passing moment proved there was little innocence left in this woman. She was bold and confident and experienced. When she took a deep breath, the gem that decorated the piercing in her belly button caught his attention.

  He lightly traced the ink with his fingertip, listening to her breath catch. The surge of nervousness that had made him feel uncertain just a few minutes before dissipated. “Do you have any other tattoos?” he whispered.

  She grinned. “One. Find it.”

  Lowering his gaze, he skimmed it over her pale legs, her thin ankles, and then her arms, not finding a sign of another tattoo. He moved behind her, letting his hand linger on her stomach. He grinned at the Wonder Woman logo outlined on her shoulder blade. He pressed his lips against it before moving his kiss up her neck. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered when his lips found her ear. “Thank you for letting me admire you.”

  He lightly traced the spot where her bra hooked in the middle of her back. “May I release this?”

  “Please do.”

  It’d been some time since he’d released that type of eye-and-hook closure, especially one-handed, but he managed to unsnap her bra. He eased the straps down her shoulders and over her arms. Standing behind her, he cupped her breasts and pulled her against him. Her head fell back to his shoulder. Squeezing, pinching her nipples as he did, he took a long, slow breath before lowering his hands. Sliding his fingers under the waistband of her underwear, he eased them over her hips.

  Lowering to his knees behind her, he teasingly moved the material down her legs and then over one foot at a time. When she was standing there in nothing but her shoes, he gripped her hips and turned her. She was perfect. Everything about her. Leaning forward, he lightly kissed the cherry before leaning his head back to look at her.

  She growled softly. “Okay. You’ve had long enough. We’re going to run out of time.” Grabbing his hand, she pulled him up and started working on releasing his belt as he toed off his shoes. When they were both naked, she pulled him to her bed, opened her nightstand, and pulled out a condom.

  “Ribbed for her pleasure,” he commented after looking at the packet she held out for him.

  Smirking, she said, “The only reason it doesn’t vibrate, spin, and automatically find my G-spot is because nobody has invented that yet.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll buy a carton when they do.”

  “Oh, I’ll have them on preorder.” She tugged the blankets back as he ripped the condom open and secured the protection in place.

  By the time she lay back, parting her legs to accept him, he had to agree. He’d wasted enough time. No, not wasted. That wasn’t the right word… Time cherishing
her could never be wasted. But he was definitely ready to move on to what was going to happen next.

  Slithering up her body and settling between her thighs, he met her gaze. Placing a light kiss on her lips, he teased her with his tongue before leaning back. She gasped and he groaned as their bodies joined. As if he didn’t already know, that was the moment that convinced him Mallory O’Connell had been heaven-sent just for him.

  Chapter Nine

  Mallory shivered and hunkered down deeper in the fleece-lined blanket wrapped around her. Watching a movie outside had seemed like a great idea when she’d set up the makeshift projector. Jessica had been wowed as soon as the image appeared on the side of the house. She still was. She’d finally stopped eating popcorn, but her gaze was fixed on the side of Phil’s house, watching the superheroes save the day. She didn’t seem to be cold at all, but another chill rolled down Mallory’s spine. Summer was approaching, but not fast enough apparently.

  “This was a terrible idea,” Mallory whispered to Phil.

  “No,” he said just as quietly as he glanced at her. “This was an awesome idea.”

  “It’s freezing out here.”

  “Want me to go grab you a sweatshirt?”

  Actually, what she wanted was for him to come closer and snuggle against her so she could steal his body heat…and maybe so she could feel his hands on her. Definitely so she could feel his hands on her. However, he jumped up and rushed inside before she could counter the sweatshirt offer.

  After making love earlier in the week, they had agreed that they had to be careful not to get handsy in front of Jessica. Once they were certain they had a future together, they could let Jessica in on their relationship. Until then, as far as Jess was concerned, they were still just friends. She understood that was for the best and wholeheartedly agreed—she just hoped it wasn’t too long before Phil was ready to tell his daughter he and Mallory were dating.

  Being near him made it nearly impossible to keep her hands to herself.

  Glancing at her watch, she checked the time. Jessica’s bedtime was getting closer and closer, and Mallory’s anticipation was growing. She and Phil usually called it an evening soon after Jess went to bed, but tonight Mallory planned to stick around. At least long enough to have a real good-night kiss with the guy.

  Within minutes, Phil was handing her yet another layer to pile on her body. She tugged his bulky sweatshirt on as quickly as she could, letting as little body heat leave her as possible before wrapping the blanket around her again. She stopped moving when the scent from the sweatshirt wafted up to her.

  Phil. The shirt smelled like Phil. Musky. Spicy. Manly. Damn, she wanted to get lost in his scent. She wanted to bury her face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and stay there until he made her leave.

  She cast a quick glance his way. He was watching her, and when their eyes met, she suspected he was having the same longing she was. Ever since they’d popped the top on that particular need, that seemed to be all she could think about. She didn’t think his desires were that much different. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

  Burrowing deeper in her blanket, Mallory tugged the neckline of his sweatshirt up over her nose and drew a deep breath. The scent was like a tonic that soothed whatever might have been ailing her.

  A strange sense of peace and belonging surrounded her. She could see herself here, sitting in his backyard, watching movies by the little bonfire while Phil popped the corn over the flames and Jessica begged for just one more toasted marshmallow. This was a life she could see herself in. A place where she fit. A place where she wanted to be.

  She was contemplating what that meant when she was gently nudged.

  “Movie’s over,” Phil said.

  She turned her attention to the wall, where the credits were rolling. How the hell long had she been sitting there sniffing Phil’s shirt and fantasizing about movie night in the backyard?

  “Thank goodness,” she said by way of distraction. “I can’t feel my toes.”

  “That was awesome.” Jessica threw her arms up like she was on a roller coaster. “We have got to do this again!”

  Phil kept his gaze on Mallory. “Maybe we should wait for warmer weather, Punk. Mal looks like an ice cube over there.”

  Mallory laughed. “I feel like an ice cube.”

  “Don’t forget your blanket,” Phil called when Jessica darted toward the house. She came back, gathered her belongings, and then called for Lucky to follow her. The dog was learning to manage with the cast and was able to hop up and waddle along. He’d turned into Jessica’s shadow but seemed to have figured out that he should wait to follow until Phil was done reminding her to pick up that, or don’t forget this, or take the dog with her.

  With regret, Mallory unburied herself and went to work on dismantling the projector.

  Phil started snatching up blankets. “That was really fun, Mal. Thanks for suggesting it.”

  “I thought you guys would enjoy this. But let’s wait for summer before doing it again.”

  She followed him into the house and put her laptop in her bag while he dropped the blankets on the sofa. She had the sudden urge to suggest that he spread them on the floor instead. Maybe build a fire. Cuddle a little to get her warm. That kind of sappy stuff had never appealed to her before, but for some reason she could actually picture the romantic scene unfolding with Phil. He was a nice guy, a sensitive and considerate guy. He’d proven by the way he insisted on admiring her body before having sex with her that he likely wouldn’t need hints dropped about preparing a nice, seductive evening. He seemed ready and willing to play into a woman’s need to be seduced.

  “I’m going to get Jess in bed,” he said. “Wanna hang out for a while?”

  Excitement shot through her. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

  He disappeared down the hallway, and she took a long, slow breath, looking at the pile of blankets. Jessica’s excited voice bounced through the house, and Mallory had a sudden realization. That kid was wound up on a serious sugar buzz and movie high. She wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. If Mallory’s past experiences of a sugar-buzzed Jessica were any indication, she’d be up to use the restroom, to get water, and to ask questions that simply couldn’t wait until morning. And knowing Phil, he wasn’t going to be firm enough to make her stay.

  There would be no blanket in front of a crackling fire tonight. Or probably any night that Jessica wasn’t having a sleepover with her grandparents. They were definitely going to have to make more requests of their friends and family to take Jessica for the night.

  “Huh,” Mal grunted with a sudden realization as to why she’d spent at least two nights a month with one of her uncles. Her mother had told her it was good for her to bond with her cousins, but Mallory finally understood her single mom was probably having her own kind of sleepovers. Ick. “How did I not figure that out sooner?” she asked herself.

  “Hey,” Phil called. “Jess wants you to come say good night.”

  Mallory put her hand to her chest as she widened her eyes as if to humbly ask, Me? She wasn’t sure why she was surprised; she and Jessica had gotten pretty close, but bedtime seemed like a sacred father-and-daughter ritual that she had never even considered taking part in. Her heart seemed to have grown wings and taken flight, causing a painfully big smile to curve her lips. She had to be mindful of her pace so she didn’t run into the kid’s bedroom.

  Reminding herself to be cool, chill out, and definitely control the urge to squeal, she walked into Jessica’s bedroom. Her heart lifted again when she saw the poster-sized collage of photos from the comic book convention that Mallory had put together and had printed for Jessica. She didn’t know why she was so happy to see it hanging on the wall. She supposed part of her expected the girl to toss it aside and never look at it again, but the carefully put-together poster was hanging on the wall right beside her bed, and Mallory felt a surge of pride.

  That surge melted into a big, gushy warm center that
filled her chest when Jessica stopped fluffing pillows and smiled up at her.

  “Ready for bed?” Mallory asked.

  Jessica opened her arms, silently asking for a hug. Mallory sat on the edge of the bed and squeezed her tight before putting a kiss on her head.

  “Get tucked in.” Mallory held the blanket up so Jessica could scoot down and rest her head on the rosy-pink pillowcase.

  “Can we draw tomorrow? I want to learn to make comic books.”

  “Yeah. Let’s draw tomorrow.”

  “I love you, Mallory,” Jessica whispered.

  Mallory gasped and then smiled that giant, face-cracking smile that she kept getting these days. “I love you, Jess. Sleep well, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Pulling herself from Jessica’s bedside was probably the hardest thing Mallory had had to do since she’d moved away from Stonehill. She had that same sense of separation anxiety. Silly as it seemed, she just wanted to sit there and watch Jessica drift off to sleep. Brushing her hand over the little one’s dark hair, she managed to get to her feet and head for the door. She stopped in her tracks, however, when she caught Phil standing in the doorway. Something in his eyes didn’t seem to be as serene as the feeling in Mallory’s soul. He seemed…upset. The somberness in his eyes gave her pause.

  Had she done something wrong?

  The look in his eyes faded as he threw a forced smile her way and stepped back to let her out of the bedroom. Slipping by him, she headed to the living room while he said one last good-night to his daughter.

  The words that passed between Jessica and Mallory shook Phil to the core. He hadn’t expected to hear that coming from Jessica or for Mallory to respond in kind. Fear took hold of his gut. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid all these years. The bond Jessica had formed with Mallory had become too strong too quickly. His daughter had a heart so big and so open that anyone could just walk right in and she’d happily accept them. While that was a wonderful trait, Phil’s job was to make sure anyone who walked in wasn’t going to turn around and walk out again.

 

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