Page 59 of The Last Autograph
Running his fingertips up and down her lower spine, he kissed her again—long and slow and sultry—and it occurred to her that she could easily lose herself in this man. Become his for that moment in time when the outside world ceased to exist except for the sound of the rain striking the deck below.
They grew frantic for one another—hands and lips exploring where their inadequate imaginations had once gone before them.
Molly’s hips surged forward of their own accord, and she reached for him before his hands had even left her breasts. Warm and thick, his penis twitched as her hand closed around it, and as he slowly pumped into her fist, his fingers found her sweet spot—their gentle rhythm threatening to tip her over the unexpected edge. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, a soft moan escaping her lips in the process. “You’re very good at this.”
“Yeah? And polite.”
“Really? I haven’t heard one please yet.”
He caressed her torso from navel to neck, his lips warm and featherlike on her skin until he nipped her earlobe with a playful bite. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, do you know that?”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. You infatuate me.”
Molly understood. She adored infatuation, that lustful intensity that comes with a strong mutual attraction and amazing, mind-blowing sex. And to her, there was nothing better than the sensation of a man’s lips claiming hers, his masculine hands on her face, and his weight pinning her down.
Shit!
“So, please,” Jake continued, “may I fuck you now?”
Molly moved onto her back and spread her legs like the wings of a butterfly about to take flight. “What about protection?”
He reached under his pillow and pulled out a foil packet. “Do you want to do the honors?”
“No, but I’d like to watch.”
When Jake woke around five to an empty bed, for a moment, he wondered if Molly had left without saying goodbye. The sex had been both tender and intense—meaningful beyond his wildest imagination—but there was no denying that her past tie to Jesse would make any relationship with Molly complicated.
He slipped his hand underneath the covers, where she’d lain naked and panting just hours before, to find the sheets still warm. She couldn’t be far away.
Out of bed, Jake strolled into the office nook off his bedroom and opened the shutters to the floor below. He leaned against the rail of the mezzanine, and there she was. With one hand wrapped around a steaming mug and a single lamp illuminating her with its muted glow, Molly looked up and smiled. “Morning.”
“You couldn’t sleep?” Jake returned her gesture, casting all doubts aside.
She shrugged. “I did for a while, but my mind likes to keep busy, even when my body doesn’t.”
“Yeah, mine too. Comes with the job.” Struggling to keep his erection in check, Jake reveled in the sight before him—Molly wrapped in his bathrobe, her hair tousled from sleep. “Come back to bed.”
“Actually, I should head home. I have an early meeting.”
An immediate sense of disappointment surfaced, something he seldom experienced the morning after with a new lover. He didn’t want Molly to leave, not before he had the chance to hold her again, to rake his hands through her hair and kiss her good morning. “How early?”
“Seven thirty.” Molly checked the time on the clock above the coffee machine. “Anyway, don’t you have to leave for work soon?”
“Not today.”
“How come?”
“Because I have a guest. And besides, I’m the boss.”
Molly rose from the chair and placed her mug in the kitchen sink before heading for the stairs. And as she entered the bedroom, he offered his hand, and she took it.
“There’s something I’d like to tell you,” she murmured.
Jake sat on the bed and faced her, feeling slightly uneasy. “Okay.”
“You know last night, when you asked if I was self-conscious about my body?”
