Somebody's Lover: The Jackson Brothers, Book 1

less-than-twelve-hour-old promise.
    When she pushed the talk button, the numbers lit up. Biting her lip, she hesitated. She dialed the first three, hung up. But she couldn’t put the phone back on the night-stand. This time she dialed all the numbers and let it ring.

    * * * * *

    He jumped on the phone when it rang, praying it was her.
    “Jace?”
    “Yeah.” He’d chased her, begged her, cajoled her, waited for her, and now she was calling him. Sooner than he’d hoped. His heart was so high in his throat, he almost couldn’t speak.
    “I wanted to thank you for last night.”
    “You did thank me. And it was my pleasure.” Pleasure that had lasted only until she’d asked the time. That one act on her part had ridden him like a sore that wouldn’t heal. “It’s late. Where are the boys?”
    “They’re asleep.”
    Duh. “Where are you?”
    “In bed.”
    Silence. He could hear her breathing. A deep inhale, then a long sigh. Why had she called?
    “What are you wearing?” He almost hated himself for asking, but he had to know.
    “A T-shirt.”
    “And?” Panties? Or was she bare?
    “That’s all.” Then finally, she added, “No panties.”
    Ah, Christ. He wanted—needed—to be there, beside her in her bed. Touching her. Making her come with his fingers, his tongue, and his cock.
    “Touch yourself for me, Taylor.”
    “Jace. This is crazy. It’s not why I called.”
    “Isn’t it?”
    She exhaled. He felt it all the way to his cock.
    “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I just wanted to—”
    “Wanted to what, Taylor? Tell me that one more time would be okay? Just one more?” He was angry and hard, wanting more than just her voice over the phone.
    She sighed. “I’ve rationalized that it was okay if it was only on the phone.”
    He squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the ache in his heart. One more time would never be enough. The phone wasn’t enough. He had to face that he wanted nothing less than forever with her.
    “It won’t be just this once, will it, Taylor.” Not a question, a solid fact. She’d call and tear his heart apart every time.
    “We have to stop.”
    “No. You have to stop. You called me.” He prayed she’d never stop. He would always sew his heart back together in the morning.
    “I won’t do it again, I swear.”
    “You were the one who said it had to end after last night. You. Not me. What is it you really want?” His eyeballs ached, praying she wanted the same things he did. Time. Together.
    “I don’t know, Jace. I really don’t. First, I just thought I wanted sex.”
    And now she wanted more, more, more. His mind screamed for her to say the words. His gut rolled and twisted, and then he took a chance. “What we did was more than sex.”
    “Yes. It was.”
    God, yes. But how much more?
    “It can only end badly,” she whispered. “Your parents.”
    “Screw my parents.”
    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