Authors: Kate Stewart
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction
No one seemed to tire as they danced through song after song. My sister and I shared a margarita on the couch while my parents howled in the kitchen with Paul. It seemed the party was in full swing at the Whittaker house. I sent up a prayer in thanks that I hadn’t missed it.
“I’ve got two bottles ready,” Dallas said in an attempt to justify her large sip of my alcohol.
“No judging,” I said, cradling the bottom of the mug and lifting it to encourage her to take a bigger sip.
“Maybe I should pump again first,” she said, moving to get up.
“Dallas, you’ve already drunk too much to try. Chill out, she’ll be fine.”
“Right, okay,” she said uneasily, sinking back into the couch, staring at the drink in my hand with a guilty look before she scanned the living room and her eyes fell on Jack.
“He’s been at it almost half an hour,” Dallas noted and turned to me with big eyes as her eyebrows did a double tap on her forehead. “Stamina.”
I rolled mine at her suggestion. “They’re growing up too fast,” I shot back, trying to change the subject. “Go make another one.”
“Have your own,” Dallas said in challenge. “This oven is closed.”
“Bullshit.”
I pushed my margarita toward her. “Nope, that’s all you,” she protested.
“I can’t drink another sip. I’m technically on call for another thirty minutes.”
“I think Mom and Dad are drunk,” Dallas said with a chuckle. “We caught them doing shots when we got here. They’re trying so hard to hide it. God, I love them,” Dallas said with a sigh before she turned to me. “You’re looking at him again.”
“Annabelle’s never really been fond of strangers,” I said, trying to evade the subject.
“Rose, he’s single.”
“Thanks for the report,” I snapped as I ripped the margarita from her hands before taking a mind-numbing gulp.
“He seems like good people.”
“Uh huh,” I agreed, watching Jack’s hip sway. He was a natural, all rhythm, and looked so damned good doing it. I was having a hard time taking my eyes away despite the fact that Dallas was watching me. Feminine instinct had kicked in and was taking over. Want coursed through me and I felt the urgent need to wrap myself around him.
Dallas pulled the drink away from me as Dean eyed her across the living room then nodded toward Grant, who was now holding himself up on the coffee table while his head began to droop with sleep. They shared a smile and Dallas moved to get up, but I stopped her.
“Poor baby,” I murmured as I shot out of my seat. Scooping Grant up, he didn’t protest at all as he buried his head in my shoulder and I rocked him back and forth. Dean changed the music to “Drive” by The Cars, one of my favorite ‘80s songs, and together Jack and I rocked the babies to sleep, eying each other. Dallas and Dean kept themselves busy in conversation while Jack and I had a silent one of our own. Suddenly jealous of my niece, I studied the strong arms that bulged as they held her and then let my eyes trail over the rest of him.
One by one, the babies fell asleep as Dean and Dallas left us to join my parents in the kitchen, who’d started to serve dinner. Jack and my eyes remained locked as we swayed in time with the music. Jack had never looked better with my beautiful niece resting against him. He was perfectly masculine as he held her. He rocked and gently stroked her back, his eyes roaming over my face and body as I held my nephew tightly to me, whispering the words to him in melody. Once I was sure they were both fast asleep, with a small jerk of my head, I motioned to Jack, and he followed me into my parents’ bedroom as we took turns laying the babies down and tucking them in.
“You handle her so well,” I said as I pulled a blanket over the two of them and patted Grant’s diaper-clad butt. He usually slept with his tail in the air and tonight was no exception. Jack and I shared a chuckle as I turned my attention to Annabelle.
“She’s easy to handle,” Jack whispered back.
“Uhhh... stick around,” I said, full of sarcasm. “The child is anything but.”
“I love a challenge,” Jack reassured as we made our way out of the bedroom into the dimly lit hall. I could hear my family talking animatedly in the distance and was surprised how easy it felt with Jack there. He surprised me a little every day.
A compliment ready on my lips, I turned to him as we started down the hall. “You’re a good dancer. Ha-oh!”
The air was knocked out of me as I was pushed against the wall. My hands were gripped by Jack’s and pinned to the sides of my head. My breathing picked up as I realized his intent, and he quickly let me know with his next words he would have his way.
“I have to fucking taste you right now. Don’t say no,” he said as he lingered only a beat before he leaned in slow and drew a breathless whimper from me. I waited for him, my eyes beckoning him as they had last weekend. Just as he closed the distance between us, I braced myself.
And it was pointless.
His strong, full lips took mine in a possessive kiss. My body sank against the wall as we molded together. We were fire and wind, and the intensity was enough to knock me off my feet. His tongue slid along my lower lip, and I gasped in permission as he tasted the rest of me completely. His kiss was powerful, deliberate, and consuming. Everything fell away as I greedily took it and returned it with the same fervor. He pulled back briefly and pushed my hands further over my head then held them there as he again dipped in and stole my breath, claiming my mouth. His tongue teased and tortured before he thrust in deep, and I became aware more than ever of his effect on me. I matched him lick for slow, sweet lick, and moaned into his mouth, starved for more.
Thoughtless and full of the need to touch him, I fought against his hands while he put more pressure on them, leaning in to cover my body with his.
I pulled back with a plea. “Let me touch you,” I begged.
“Not yet, and not here,” he murmured, his voice rough, his lips like silk as he brushed them lightly against mine.
A loud burst of laughter had us both stilling before we looked in their direction and back at each other. I gave Jack wide eyes as he leaned in again.
“We better get back,” I argued weakly, not wanting our stolen moment to end. He nodded as he held me against the wall. My chest rose and fell, brushing against his with each breath. He looked down at my flushed and ready body with appreciation before looking back at me. I was in a simple light blue cotton sundress and wanted nothing more than to be rid of it in that moment. His eyes told me he wanted the same.
This time, I leaned in and took his lips, and he obliged as he fully tasted me again. Heart beating out of control, I sank further into him as I gave him more and more, and he took without hesitation. It was heaven and hell, a perfect mix of satisfaction and desire. He eased away from me as electricity filled the air between us then slowly pulled my hands down, kissing each one before he let them go.
He’d made good on his promise to bring all he had, and I was overjoyed at the fact that I could handle it and so much more. That I wanted more, needed more, from Jack. Another bout of laughter from the kitchen had us looking at each other with regret.
“You go first. I’m going to need a minute,” Jack said without apology as he brushed slightly against my stomach and I felt the fullness in his jeans. I’d always loved a man who was freely sexual and Jack seemed to fit the bill. I boldly brushed my hand against him before I began to walk toward the direction of my waiting family.
“Not nice,” Jack said with a groan.
“You started it,” I shot back playfully. We shared an intimate smile before I made my way toward the kitchen. I paused for a moment in the doorway to collect myself and touched my lips. They were swollen, sensitive, and in a way felt renewed. I briefly remembered a time when I wondered if I would ever know a kiss again.
And Jack had just wrecked me with his.
My lips ached a little for him now in his absence. As I slowly came down from the high of his touch, my body reminded me that I’d be more ready physically if we ever became truly intimate. And that was enough for now.
I walked into the kitchen and joined my family at the table, still reeling but elated. I was capable; at least, it felt that way for now.
“They’re out cold,” I assured Dallas, who looked to me with eager eyes. Relief covered her features, and she nodded to me in thanks before taking a large bite of her fajitas.
Jack joined us only a short minute later, and I couldn’t help but smile a little at my plate knowing what we’d just shared. We sat at the table, Jack next to me as if by design, as everyone held separate conversations. My dad and Paul talked shop, Paul having taken over my father’s successful architecture firm years earlier. My mother, Dean, and Dallas wrapped up in their own conversation about the kids.
Jack doted on me without the awareness of others, handing me a napkin before I had a chance to ask for a spare, filling my empty margarita with the pitcher on the table as soon as I’d drained it. I looked at him with a soft “thank you.” Though he didn’t look at me often or even force conversation, I could
feel
him with me. It was if he was holding my hand. It sent welcomed warmth through me.
An hour later, the entire table was buzzing with shared conversation as my parents chimed in with lighthearted antics of parenting.
“Rose was the hardest with her temper,” my mother said with a laugh. “She once gave her father and me the silent treatment for a full day because we refused to house her grass snake. She was so sure of everything, including her opinion, which changed daily. She was also a klutz, which terrified us to no end when she announced she wanted to be a surgeon.”
“I can see that,” Jack agreed next to me.
My mother looked over at Jack as she continued. “She once saw a homeless man downtown and insisted we take him home with us because we had the room. She cried for hours when we told her no and wouldn’t let up until we went back searching for him. When we found him, she forced Seth to empty his wallet and promised we’d be back every week on the same day.”
“I did?”
“You were five,” my father said, looking at my mother and then back at me. “He wasn’t a friendly man at all. You should have been scared of him. Instead, you surprised us. And trust me, you didn’t let us forget about him. We went back for about a month, until one day he didn’t show. You were a fearless little girl.”
“I don’t remember,” I said as I searched my bank of memories and came up empty.
“Fearless and daring,” my mother agreed. “I caught you playing peekaboo with one of the neighbor’s little boys in the backyard one day. After we had a little talk, you insisted for almost a week that one day you too would have a penis.”
Jack spit out some of the margarita he was drinking and looked at me with soft eyes and a loud laugh.
“Okay, parents, no need for anymore recap. I get it, I was a difficult child.”
“Oh, but you were so much fun,” my mother said with adoration. “Paul was responsible, Dallas was a brat, but easy maintenance, and you were our wild card.”
“That’s why I call you little woman,” my dad said in agreement with my mother. “Independent from the first year you were born. I’ve never seen another baby so hell-bent on doing everything for herself. You even tried to change your own diapers.”
“And now I’m boring,” I muttered without thinking, wishing I had one tenth of that fearless little girl inside of me. No one heard me but Jack, who protested with a tender whispered comment. “Not in the slightest.”
My chest stretched at his words, and I couldn’t help the slow smile that crept up on my lips.
Jack was the first to leave, wishing us all a goodnight, completely respectful of our agreement to keep our new relationship private. Still, I saw him hesitate in his goodbye to me, but only briefly as he made his way out of the house. It had been a perfect night. I no longer had to wonder if I’d ever be a kissed woman again, if I’d ever feel the desire to share myself sexually with another man and be able to feel it everywhere.
Jack had ripped off another Band-Aid. And it was painless...until I got home.