Somebody's Lover Page 7

Her long silence after his outburst wore him down, forcing him to back off, retrench. He didn’t want the secrecy, but if it was the only way, he’d do it.

  “If we’re careful, they don’t have to know.” He lowered his voice. “I want to have you again.” He closed his eyes. “I want to make sure you never have to go looking elsewhere.” The thought of it killed him.

  She didn’t answer, but he could hear her quickened breath.

  He didn’t let up on her. “You’re too much woman, too hot, too desirable to ever stop needing a man altogether. Don’t deny it.”

  “Jace, please. I...”

  “I want to hear you come,” he whispered, seducing her with his voice and her own needs. “I want to imagine it’s me between your legs. Touch yourself for me. Do it. Now.” He gave her own words back to her. “Tell me what it feels like.”

  He could hear the hitch in her breath. She wanted it. He had to get her to do it for him. It was more important even then making love to her last night. Last night, she’d wanted finality. Tonight, he saw a chink in her armor.

  “Think about how it felt to have me inside you, on top of you. How hard you came. How good it was. So damn good.”

  Taylor had lost her voice.

  “I can still taste you. You were so fucking sweet and hot.”

  Jace was right. This was exactly why she’d called. To hear his voice. To remember the way he’d made her feel. She couldn’t give up those sensations now that she’d discovered them. And this wouldn’t hurt anybody. It was the phone. Merely his voice, the memory of his touch, and her own fingers caressing her nipple. No one ever had to know.

  She pulled her shirt up, exposing herself.

  “More, Jace,” she whispered.

  “Tell me what you’re doing.”

  She closed her eyes and pinched lightly. “I feel you take my nipple in your mouth. You suck and I feel it all the way down between my legs.”

  “I’m kissing my way down your abdomen, licking your belly button.”

  She dipped her finger into her belly button, her hand following his voice.

  “Spread your legs, baby. Let me feel how wet you are.”

  She felt his quickened breath in her ear as if he were right there. Dipping her fingers, she found herself dripping, ready.

  “Oh God, Jace, it aches when you touch me like that.” She moaned for him.

  “I wanna use my tongue on you. I wanna make you come.”

  She caressed her clitoris, arching, her fingers biting into the phone. “Please make me come.”

  “Put your finger inside yourself.”

  All the way in, then she slid deliciously back out, with a soft murmur. “I’m so wet and slippery. Does it turn you on when I touch myself, Jace? Does it make you want to take your cock out?”

  “It’s already out, baby. And I’m so fucking hard listening to you. Have you ever come over the phone before?”

  She twisted in the bed, spread herself wider as if he were lying between her thighs. “No.”

  “It’ll blow your mind,” he whispered. “Keep playing. Rub all that sweet juice over your pussy.”

  She didn’t think she’d ever been so wet or so hot. Her hips moved, rising to meet the push of her fingers. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, could only moan and writhe and never let go of the phone, listening to his soft whispers, his hot words.

  “Come on, baby, come for me. Come now. Oh, Jesus. I can’t hold it. I need to fuck you. Aw, Christ. You don’t know.”

  She came as he did, in an explosion of color and light behind her lids. Jace cried out, his voice wrapping around her, part of her, inside her. She bit her lip to hold everything inside, a soft moan sliding out anyway, even as she gathered in every sound he made, gathered them all to her heart.

  Then the phone went dead.

  Her body quivered and quaked. Why had he hung up without even saying good-bye? Taylor rolled over, pulled her knees to her chest, and hugged the phone. She was still so wet and hot and needy. Needing Jace.

  What was happening to her? How could she keep doing such crazy things? Maybe it was best that he’d cut off so abruptly. Next thing, she might have been begging him to come over. Just playing with him on the phone wasn’t enough.

  She knew better than to promise herself she’d stop. He’d proven to her that she couldn’t.

  * * * * *

  Jace lay there, filling his chest with great gulps of air.

  God, I love you, Taylor.

  He was so fucking crazy in love with her.

  Crazy enough to shout it to the world. And to her over a goddamn phone line. He could only thank God he’d managed to disconnect before he’d completely let loose.

  He’d been in love with her almost half his life. He was more than used to the idea. But it was too soon for Taylor. She needed more time to accept. He could wait. He would have to because he’d just made a deal with the devil. His silence in return for her body, but not her heart. At least he’d have time to work on her. Until he was as important to her as her next breath. Until she couldn’t imagine life without him. Until she was as addicted to him as he was to her.

  Until he was sure she could forgive him for having caused Lou’s death.

  Chapter Eight

  Jace touched Taylor every chance he got. Her elbow as she stepped out of the house carrying the plate of hamburgers. Her fingers as she passed the coleslaw. Her thigh with his as she sat next to him at the picnic table, something he’d engineered.

  Connie sniped at her kids, Mitch seemed sullen and uncommunicative, Mom chattered at Taylor’s boys, and David and Dad engaged in a heated discussion regarding the proposed bond measure for sewers to replace septic systems in their water district.

  No one noticed as he put his hand on Taylor’s knee under the plastic tablecloth, then slid up to the edge of her shorts. Dangerous, but sometimes women liked a little danger. He slipped down to stroke her inner thigh.

  For a moment, she squeezed her legs together, then she stepped on his foot. Satisfied with her reaction, he let go and bit into his burger. Even the simple act of eating made him think of her, his mouth on her sweet pussy.

  “Basketball anyone?” David climbed off the bench. “Rina needs practice with dribbling.”

  Rina, Mitch’s youngest, was doing fine with dribbling, splashes of mustard down her white shirt and a glob of coleslaw at the neckline. Connie scooped away the offending splotches, then patted her daughter’s behind and sent her after her uncle and grandpa. Mitch followed, as did Jamey and Brian.

  “I’ll finish making the fruit salad for dessert,” Taylor said as she lifted her legs over the bench seat and stood.

  “I’ll help clean up before I go out and play.” Jace wanted an excuse to trail Taylor into the kitchen.

  He stacked plates, heaped silverware, and shoved empty cups into each other. Damn, he felt good. It was pathetic what a little hope could do. And last night on the phone had given him hope. He wanted to hear Taylor moan again, drink in the sound of her pleasure, her hitched breath as she came. He wanted to touch her all over.

  Connie dragged two lawn chairs over to the side of the backyard basketball court. “You want to watch, Mom?” she called.

  His mom looked at him, then the leftover barbecue mess. “Go ahead,” he told her. “I’ll take care of it.”

  She rose slowly, then rested both palms on the table. “Tell Taylor to call us when the fruit salad’s ready.”

  Yes. A few minutes alone in the kitchen, a soft word, a touch. Taylor would be crazy, and the salad would be late.

  “Sure, Mom.”

  Taylor stood at the counter slicing bananas when he entered. “I thought only the grilling was man’s work,” she said without looking at him.

  He dumped the load of plates by the sink. “Oh, I think a man’s work is far more than flipping burgers. Especially if he wants to keep a woman happy.”

  She gave him a sideways glance, then pointed with the tip of her knife. “Put the cutlery i
n the dishwasher and throw the plates in the garbage under the sink,” she said, then added, “Please.”

  He closed in on her. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t I show you my boyhood room?”

  “Not,” but she smiled as she said it. “I’ve seen your boyhood room. Two twin beds, one for Brian and one for Jamey when they sleep over.”

  “Ah, but have you laid down on one of them?”

  “No, I have not. Now start loading the dishwasher or I’ll call your mother and tell her you’re not pulling your weight.”

  She started peeling an orange, the citrus scent wafting up from her fingers as he leaned in to blow lightly against her hair.

  “I’ll load after you lay down on the bed with me. Five minutes, then I’ll let you up.” He dragged his thumb down her bare arm, his finger brushing the side of her breast.

  She drew in a breath and stopped slicing oranges. “Five minutes? What can you do in five minutes?”

  He circled her ear with his tongue, then whispered. “I can make you come. Twice.”

  She shivered and held onto the edge of the counter. “Oh God, Jace, this is idiotic. We can’t go to your room. Someone could walk in on us.”

  Dammit, he didn’t care. He moved behind her, rubbed his cock in the crease of her ass. “I’ll lock the door.”

  “It doesn’t have a lock.” This time, she held onto the counter with both hands.

  “I’ll put a chair under the doorknob.”

  “No. It’s too risky.”

  “Sometimes the risk can be worth it.” When she didn’t respond to his underlying message, he cupped her breasts. He worked her back and front, rubbing her nipples until they hardened against his fingers, and pressing into her bottom, letting her feel how damn hard he was. For her.

  Outside on the basketball court, there were shouts of triumph and squeals of laughter.

  “Or,” he murmured, “I could put my hand in your shorts and make you come right here.”

  She elbowed him back, then rounded, holding the knife in front of her. “Back off, bud. Or I’ll have to slice up your little banana.”

  “Little?” God, he wanted her, that smile, her laughter against his lips, her body in his hands.

  “Very little.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m wounded immensely.”

  She jabbed with the knife. “Back three more steps or you’re in big trouble, buster.”

  He backed up until his butt hit the kitchen table. “Playing with a knife is dangerous.”

  “I’m not playing.” She feinted once more, her eyes sparkling.

  If he could get her to go back to his room with him...

  “What the hell?” David slammed the kitchen screen door behind him.

  “He refused to load the dishwasher,” Taylor said, recovering quickly, but her eyes had gone wide, and Jace read her thoughts. Almost busted.

  Part of him wanted David to have caught him fondling Taylor’s breasts and ass. At least they’d be out in the open then, and Taylor would have to make a decision.

  He might have gotten her to agree that it wasn’t over between them, but acknowledge their relationship out loud? It was too soon. At this point, he was sure she wouldn’t make the choice he wanted.

  “Loading the dishwasher is woman’s work. I cooked the hamburgers. Tell her, David.”

  A tick of silence. David had forgotten how to tease. He’d forgotten how to smile. Then, surprisingly, he said, “I cooked the burgers. You just watched. Better load the dishwasher, buddy, or she might cut off the family jewels. Women can be sensitive about things like that.”

  Jace looked at him. Damn. His brother had made a joke.

  Taylor pointed the knife at David. “Dad cooked the burgers. You have to load the dishwasher while Jace gets the rest of the dirty dishes.”

  The door opened again, this time it was his mom.

  “Mom,” David said plaintively. “Taylor’s trying to make us do the dishes. Tell her we cooked. It’s a rule we don’t have to clean up if we cook.”

  Taylor’s lips twitched. Mom’s didn’t. She was good at playing possum and hiding expressions when she wanted to.

  “Finish the salad, Taylor. Both of you boys get the rest of the dishes, and I’ll load the dishwasher. Men suck at loading.”

  David laughed. Everyone looked at him, but he didn’t seem to notice anything was different. “You can’t say suck, Mom. That’s a bad word.”

  “Suck. There, I said it again. I’m the mom, and I can say anything I want.” Then she flapped her hands and moved aside. “Now get on with you two.”

  David pushed Jace out the door ahead of him. “See what you got me into, asswipe.”

  “Asswipe’s a bad word. I’m telling Mom.”

  “Not if I beat the crap out of you first.”

  Damn. They hadn’t had fun like this in three fricking years. Taylor was good for him. She was good for all of them.

  Everything was going to work out.

  * * * * *

  Merciful heavens, this was awful.

  Should she talk to Jace, ask him what was going on? Evelyn never interfered in her sons’ lives. If Connie came running with some nitpick about Mitch, Evelyn remained neutral. She wouldn’t choose her daughter-in-law’s side against her son, but she wasn’t about to do it in reverse either.

  What would she say to Jace anyway? Are you making a mistake? Is she going to hurt you? Are you going to hurt her? Are you in love with her, or is this some meaningless fling?

  Can you ever mean more to her than Lou did?

  No. She couldn’t ask any of her questions. The answers terrified her. As did the thought of having to tell Arthur what she’d found out. Goodness knows, she couldn’t do it. It was better not to ask.

  Evelyn had watched them all afternoon. Jace couldn’t keep his hands off Taylor. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her either. Then he followed like a hound dog when she went into the kitchen.

  No one else had seemed to notice, except perhaps Connie. If Connie mentioned her suspicions to Mitch...well, Evelyn didn’t know what he’d say or do.

  And that scene in the kitchen, oh my heavens. She’d wanted so badly to laugh with them. The family laughed and played with the kids, they all enjoyed that, but between themselves, when the children were off being children, all the gaiety seemed to have died when Lou died.

  But David had laughed. He’d actually laughed. And joked. Like the old days. Before Lou died.

  She should have been delirious. It should have signified her family was on the mend.

  Instead, she feared worse times were coming.

  Chapter Nine

  Taylor knew what that whole scene yesterday in Evelyn’s kitchen was about. Jace wanted to see how far he could push her.

  How far would she go? She wasn’t sure. But she did know that if David hadn’t walked in, she’d have followed Jace to his old room in his mom’s house and gone down on her knees for him.

  She knocked her morning coffee over all the papers on her desk. “Darn it.”

  Evelyn hurried over with a roll of paper towels, and they mopped and sopped together.

  “You’ve seemed pretty preoccupied lately.”

  Taylor avoided Evelyn’s gaze. “Too much coffee. It makes me jittery.” That had been her first cup of the day.

  Taylor couldn’t think of another single thing to say, but her mother-in-law stood there a little longer, waiting. All of a sudden, Evelyn had started making Taylor nervous.

  “Really, Mom, everything’s fine and dandy.”

  After one last look, Evelyn sighed. “I’ll go to the bank then. Arthur didn’t give me last week’s receipts until this morning.”

  “Bad Arthur,” Taylor said.

  That won her a smile, and her tension eased. A tiny bit.

  Evelyn fluttered around her desk, gathering her purse, the deposit bag, her keys. Then she waggled her fingers and left.

  Lord. Taylor took her coffee mug back to the kitchenette to refill. The fr
ont door opened. Boots stomped across the floor, and everything inside her went still. Jace stopped in the doorway, legs apart, hands in his back pockets. The stance pulled his T-shirt tight. She almost fainted with need.

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “She went to the bank.” Gone for at least an hour.

  “How long ago did she leave?”

  “A few minutes.” She couldn’t breathe thinking of the possibilities.

  “We need to talk.” They could no longer just talk, but he went on before she said that. “These phone calls make me nuts.”

  “They make me nuts, too,” she whispered. They weren’t enough. Her heart pounded. She bit the inside of her lip so hard she tasted blood. She felt hot, needy, and dangerous. Then she grabbed his hand, pulling him past the small refrigerator, microwave, and coffeemaker.

  “Taylor, what the hell are you doing?”

  Opening the bathroom door, she shoved him inside, then turned the lock and leaned back. “I don’t want to talk.”

  He blinked, his breathing harsh. “Taylor.” That was all. It held a wealth of meaning. Evelyn might return. The risk. The hurt, if anyone found out. She knew all the reasons why they shouldn’t and was too addicted to care.

  “I didn’t wear panties today.”

  His eyes widened, darkened. “Christ, you’re killing me.”

  “Then put us both out of our misery.”

  His fingers flexed. Right and wrong warred with need. He lost the battle. Putting his hands on her waist, he pivoted and set her against the sink with her back to him. His hands skated beneath her jean skirt, pushing it high. “I can’t think I wanna fuck you so bad.”

  She held onto the sink with numb fingers. His words, laced with heated longing, almost made her knees buckle. In the mirror, she saw him rip open a condom with his teeth and bend his head. The backs of his hands brushed her bottom as he rolled it on. He might not have planned this outcome, but he was prepared.

  Then he stopped, gazing at her reflection, his fingers twitching on her hips. “Are you sure, Taylor? Now? Here?”

  He was making the decision to stop irrevocably hers. The choice hers, but the act would belong to both of them. “God, now, please.”