I Wish You Were Mine
Page 67
He held her eyes as he hooked his fingers along the waistband of her thong, tossing it aside so they were both naked and longing.
Jackson’s eyes locked on hers, and Mollie lay back as he climbed over her. Her breath caught at the intensity in his gaze—at the intensity she felt.
He levered his weight to one elbow, lifting the other hand so that his fingers could touch her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“What are we doing?” she whispered.
He gave her a sexy smile. “Well, we haven’t done anything yet.”
“No, I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” His fingers slid down to her chin, holding her face steady so she had no choice but to look at him. “What we’re doing—it’s been crazy. Maybe a little reckless. And I sure as hell didn’t see it coming. But I can tell you that these past weeks, they’ve been…they made me feel alive. More alive than I’ve felt in a long time.”
Mollie’s eyes watered. As far as declarations went, it was a long way from I love you, but it made her heart soar all the same.
She pulled his mouth down to hers, pouring into her kiss all of the emotion that she couldn’t put into words.
He kissed her back, slowly and hungrily.
He slipped a knee between hers, and Mollie spread her legs as he settled his weight between them.
His cock nudged her opening, and he groaned. “Baby—”
“Now,” she whispered against his cheek. “Please, now.”
“But—”
She dug her nails into his back to urge him forward. Tonight she didn’t need extended foreplay. She didn’t want to tease and play. She wanted him. Had been ready for him since the moment he’d reached for her.
He tilted his head back to watch her face as he slid into her, his jaw clenching when he was settled all the way inside her.
Jackson dipped his head forward to her shoulder as he began to move. Mollie wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, their pace riding that fine line between urgent and patient, as they struggled to make it last even as they reached for ecstasy.
His hips began to move faster as he lifted her arms over her head, pinning her upper arms to the bed with his palms before dipping his head and running his tongue along the tip of her breast.
Panting, Mollie pulled her legs up, arching toward him, knowing she was making desperate pleading sounds but too far gone to be embarrassed. She went over the edge with a keening cry, her body stiffening in exquisite pleasure as her orgasm overtook her.
Moments later, Jackson’s fingertips bit into the flesh of her arms as he slammed into her and came with a roar against her neck.
He collapsed onto her, his hands sliding up slightly until they were palm to palm. Jackson’s fingers linked with hers as their pounding hearts began to slow, their pulses returning to normal.
Mollie closed her eyes, losing herself in the perfection of the moment. Of feeling the man she loved completely spent. Completely hers. At least for tonight.
Eventually he pulled away, gently coaxing her around so that her head found the pillow. He pulled the covers over both of them as she snuggled against his chest, her fingertips resting above his heart.
Jackson kissed her forehead. “Night, baby.”
His voice was sleepy, and Mollie felt a stab of panic. Panic that they’d go to sleep, and when they woke up, this would all be over—before she had a chance to say what was on her mind.
In her heart.
“Jackson.” She tilted her head up. “Jackson.”
“Hmm?” He didn’t open his eyes.
Maybe that was better. Easier. “Jackson, I just…I need you to know. I think that I—”
His eyes opened, locking on hers, and her words broke off in confusion at the turmoil she saw there.
He lifted a hand and touched her cheek gently before resting his fingers over her mouth. “Don’t, Mollie. Please don’t.”
She swallowed dryly.
He held her gaze a moment longer, his eyes begging her to understand. She did. She really did. And yet she wanted to ask him to be brave. Wanted him to—
His eyes drifted shut again, and although Mollie’s brain tried to tell her that he was just tired, her heart knew better.
Her heart knew that he had just rejected her love.
Chapter 27
When Mollie woke up the next morning, there was no Jackson beside her. No bracing smell of brewing coffee.
A glance at the clock showed her why. It was well past ten, and she’d learned that Jackson rarely slept past six. He’d likely made coffee hours ago.
She sat up and blinked groggily before crawling to the side of the bed. A quick scan showed that he’d picked up her dress and panties, setting both on the dresser.
Grabbing her clothes, she slowly opened the door of the bedroom. “Jackson?”
Nothing.
She darted across the hallway to the safety of her own bedroom, where she pulled on underwear, sweatpants, and an ancient tank top.
Heading toward the kitchen, she made a beeline for the coffeepot, smiling when she saw he’d set it so that all she needed to do was hit the button to get a fresh pot brewing.
She was grabbing the water pitcher from the fridge when she saw his note on the counter.
At the gym. Tried to wait for you, but you looked dead.
J
Mollie rolled her eyes. Well, that was romantic.
While she waited for the coffee to finish, she headed into the living room, where she’d left her cell on an end table.
Jackson’s eyes locked on hers, and Mollie lay back as he climbed over her. Her breath caught at the intensity in his gaze—at the intensity she felt.
He levered his weight to one elbow, lifting the other hand so that his fingers could touch her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“What are we doing?” she whispered.
He gave her a sexy smile. “Well, we haven’t done anything yet.”
“No, I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” His fingers slid down to her chin, holding her face steady so she had no choice but to look at him. “What we’re doing—it’s been crazy. Maybe a little reckless. And I sure as hell didn’t see it coming. But I can tell you that these past weeks, they’ve been…they made me feel alive. More alive than I’ve felt in a long time.”
Mollie’s eyes watered. As far as declarations went, it was a long way from I love you, but it made her heart soar all the same.
She pulled his mouth down to hers, pouring into her kiss all of the emotion that she couldn’t put into words.
He kissed her back, slowly and hungrily.
He slipped a knee between hers, and Mollie spread her legs as he settled his weight between them.
His cock nudged her opening, and he groaned. “Baby—”
“Now,” she whispered against his cheek. “Please, now.”
“But—”
She dug her nails into his back to urge him forward. Tonight she didn’t need extended foreplay. She didn’t want to tease and play. She wanted him. Had been ready for him since the moment he’d reached for her.
He tilted his head back to watch her face as he slid into her, his jaw clenching when he was settled all the way inside her.
Jackson dipped his head forward to her shoulder as he began to move. Mollie wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, their pace riding that fine line between urgent and patient, as they struggled to make it last even as they reached for ecstasy.
His hips began to move faster as he lifted her arms over her head, pinning her upper arms to the bed with his palms before dipping his head and running his tongue along the tip of her breast.
Panting, Mollie pulled her legs up, arching toward him, knowing she was making desperate pleading sounds but too far gone to be embarrassed. She went over the edge with a keening cry, her body stiffening in exquisite pleasure as her orgasm overtook her.
Moments later, Jackson’s fingertips bit into the flesh of her arms as he slammed into her and came with a roar against her neck.
He collapsed onto her, his hands sliding up slightly until they were palm to palm. Jackson’s fingers linked with hers as their pounding hearts began to slow, their pulses returning to normal.
Mollie closed her eyes, losing herself in the perfection of the moment. Of feeling the man she loved completely spent. Completely hers. At least for tonight.
Eventually he pulled away, gently coaxing her around so that her head found the pillow. He pulled the covers over both of them as she snuggled against his chest, her fingertips resting above his heart.
Jackson kissed her forehead. “Night, baby.”
His voice was sleepy, and Mollie felt a stab of panic. Panic that they’d go to sleep, and when they woke up, this would all be over—before she had a chance to say what was on her mind.
In her heart.
“Jackson.” She tilted her head up. “Jackson.”
“Hmm?” He didn’t open his eyes.
Maybe that was better. Easier. “Jackson, I just…I need you to know. I think that I—”
His eyes opened, locking on hers, and her words broke off in confusion at the turmoil she saw there.
He lifted a hand and touched her cheek gently before resting his fingers over her mouth. “Don’t, Mollie. Please don’t.”
She swallowed dryly.
He held her gaze a moment longer, his eyes begging her to understand. She did. She really did. And yet she wanted to ask him to be brave. Wanted him to—
His eyes drifted shut again, and although Mollie’s brain tried to tell her that he was just tired, her heart knew better.
Her heart knew that he had just rejected her love.
Chapter 27
When Mollie woke up the next morning, there was no Jackson beside her. No bracing smell of brewing coffee.
A glance at the clock showed her why. It was well past ten, and she’d learned that Jackson rarely slept past six. He’d likely made coffee hours ago.
She sat up and blinked groggily before crawling to the side of the bed. A quick scan showed that he’d picked up her dress and panties, setting both on the dresser.
Grabbing her clothes, she slowly opened the door of the bedroom. “Jackson?”
Nothing.
She darted across the hallway to the safety of her own bedroom, where she pulled on underwear, sweatpants, and an ancient tank top.
Heading toward the kitchen, she made a beeline for the coffeepot, smiling when she saw he’d set it so that all she needed to do was hit the button to get a fresh pot brewing.
She was grabbing the water pitcher from the fridge when she saw his note on the counter.
At the gym. Tried to wait for you, but you looked dead.
J
Mollie rolled her eyes. Well, that was romantic.
While she waited for the coffee to finish, she headed into the living room, where she’d left her cell on an end table.
