Somebody's Lover by Jasmine Haynes

engineered.
    Connie sniped at her kids, Mitch
seemed sullen and uncommunicative, Mom chattered at Taylor’s boys, and David
and Dad engaged in a heated discussion regarding the proposed bond measure for
sewers to replace septic systems in their water district.
    No one noticed as he put his hand
on Taylor’s knee under the plastic tablecloth, then slid up to the edge of her
shorts. Dangerous, but sometimes women liked a little danger. He slipped down
to stroke her inner thigh.
    For a moment, she squeezed her legs
together, then she stepped on his foot. Satisfied with her reaction, he let go
and bit into his burger. Even the simple act of eating made him think of her,
his mouth on her sweet pussy.
    “Basketball anyone?” David climbed
off the bench. “Rina needs practice with dribbling.”
    Rina, Mitch’s youngest, was doing
fine with dribbling, splashes of mustard down her white shirt and a glob of
coleslaw at the neckline. Connie scooped away the offending splotches, then
patted her daughter’s behind and sent her after her uncle and grandpa. Mitch
followed, as did Jamey and Brian.
    “I’ll finish making the fruit salad
for dessert,” Taylor said as she lifted her legs over the bench seat and stood.
    “I’ll help clean up before I go out
and play.” Jace wanted an excuse to trail Taylor into the kitchen.
    He stacked plates, heaped
silverware, and shoved empty cups into each other. Damn, he felt good. It was
pathetic what a little hope could do. And last night on the phone had given him
hope. He wanted to hear Taylor moan again, drink in the sound of her pleasure,
her hitched breath as she came. He wanted to touch her all over.
    Connie dragged two lawn chairs over
to the side of the backyard basketball court. “You want to watch, Mom?” she
called.
    His mom looked at him, then the
leftover barbecue mess. “Go ahead,” he told her. “I’ll take care of it.”
    She rose slowly, then rested both
palms on the table. “Tell Taylor to call us when the fruit salad’s ready.”
    Yes. A few minutes alone in the
kitchen, a soft word, a touch. Taylor would be crazy, and the salad would be
late.
    “Sure, Mom.”
    Taylor stood at the counter slicing
bananas when he entered. “I thought only the grilling was man’s work,” she said
without looking at him.
    He dumped the load of plates by the
sink. “Oh, I think a man’s work is far more than flipping burgers. Especially
if he wants to keep a woman happy.”
    She gave him a sideways glance,
then pointed with the tip of her knife. “Put the cutlery in the dishwasher and
throw the plates in the garbage under the sink,” she said, then added,
“Please.”
    He closed in on her. “I’ve got a
better idea. Why don’t I show you my boyhood room?”
    “Not,” but she smiled as she said
it. “I’ve seen your boyhood room. Two twin beds, one for Brian and one for
Jamey when they sleep over.”
    “Ah, but have you laid down on one
of them?”
    “No, I have not. Now start loading
the dishwasher or I’ll call your mother and tell her you’re not pulling your
weight.”
    She started peeling an orange, the
citrus scent wafting up from her fingers as he leaned in to blow lightly
against her hair.
    “I’ll load after you lay down on
the bed with me. Five minutes, then I’ll let you up.” He dragged his thumb down
her bare arm, his finger brushing the side of her breast.
    She drew in a breath and stopped
slicing oranges. “Five minutes? What can you do in five minutes?”
    He circled her ear with his tongue,
then whispered. “I can make you come. Twice.”
    She shivered and held onto the edge
of the counter. “Oh God, Jace, this is idiotic. We can’t go to your room.
Someone could walk in on us.”
    Dammit, he didn’t care. He moved
behind her, rubbed his cock in the crease of her ass. “I’ll lock the door.”
    “It doesn’t have a lock.” This
time, she held onto the counter with both hands.
    “I’ll put a chair under the
doorknob.”
    “No. It’s