Somebody's Lover: The Jackson Brothers, Book 1

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