Somebody's Lover: The Jackson Brothers, Book 1

ever want me to stop.
    It was the closest he would ever come to telling her how he felt about her. Taylor understood that. She’d learned that this morning, along with her own set of revelations. She rubbed his head, needing to feel him beneath her fingers. Then, her hands on his cheeks, she made him look at her. His eyes were dark pools, and his lips shone with her moisture. She bent to lick it off, then eased down on her knees between him and the wall, resting her head in the crook of his neck.
    Her own taste along with his lingered in her mouth. His heart beat next to hers, hard, fast, as if what he’d done had turned him inside out just as it had her. He freed the tangles she’d somehow gotten in her hair.
    “I’ll never stop. Not until you want me to.” His voice rumbled against her chest, her lips. She kissed his throat.
    She feared talk of the future, of his parents, of telling each other dreams they might never share together. She feared learning the real reasons he seemed to want her so badly. She had the boys, the family, and a life that included Jace in a role he’d played all his life. Not the role he’d played this week.
    Reaching between them to palm his erection, communicating with her touch, she put her worries and her ghosts aside. Until tomorrow. For tonight, she’d take this, Jace in her hands, her mouth, her body. “We shouldn’t stop yet.”
    Pulling back, he put his hand over hers, and together they brought him once more to hot, heavy breathing and rock hardness.
    “Let me handle the whole thing while you keep your clothes on.” She liked his black jeans and shirt next to her nakedness, the rasp of the rough material against bare skin that was unbearably sexy.
    Pushing him back to rest on his elbows, she undid his belt and popped the buttons, being sure to let her fingers brush him time and again.
    “Don’t make me come. I want to be inside you for that.”
    “Shh. We have all night.”
    She grabbed the waistband of his jeans and briefs, pulling them over his hips as he lifted slightly to make the job easier. His erection jumped free.
    He stroked himself. She batted his hand away. “Stop that. I get to do it all.”
    “You loved listening to me do it the other night.”
    She had, more than she’d ever thought she would. “I’d rather lick you myself.” She climbed between his legs, taking him in her hand.
    He pulled her hair off her face, fisting it into a ponytail. “Yeah. I like watching you do that, too. But one day, I want to stand at the foot of the bed while you make yourself come.”
    “That is so bad.” The idea turned her insides to jelly. “You’re messing with my concentration here.”
    He kept talking when she took the tip of his penis into her mouth and sucked. “It would be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Except when you dropped the towel.” He pushed gently on her head, and she slid down his length. “oh shit, that’s so damn good.” His hips rose, driving him deeper.
    He talked, a nonstop litany of compliments and curse words. Lou had never talked or laughed during sex. Jace turned it all into something about her, about the perfect feel of her hand at his base, the incredible swirl of her tongue, the absolute rightness of her sucking the tiny drop of semen from his slit.
    “I love watching you do that. Your lips are so red and so sweet. You’re so fucking good for me.”
    He moved her head, angled her, thrust up against her, drove harder as if he were making love to her mouth.
    “Jesus, Taylor, fuck.”
    His words, his sounds, his groans of pleasure made her body weep with need. When he began to throb in her mouth, when he was close to pumping himself into her, his hands on her head drove him as deep as he could go. She dug her fingernails into his sides, squeezed her thighs, and came at the moment he exploded.
    His body jerked, he shouted her name, and held her as she drank from him. When he was empty and she was full, he lay prone on the floor. She collapsed across his hips and rested her face on his belly. Gently stroking her hair, her cheek, her lips, he whispered words she couldn’t hear over the pounding of her own heart and the rush of air in and out of her lungs.
    She’d have stayed that way forever if the phone hadn’t rung.
    Lord, the kids. Calling to say good-night.
    Taylor jumped up, grabbed the towel and ran into the family room. Where on earth was it? She found the phone on the floor between the coffee table and the