I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford #2)(45)

“You’re awfully good at that.”

She smirked. “Wait until you see what else I’m good at.”

Then her hand slid downward, and before he registered that she’d freed his cock from his briefs, her hot palm was against him, stroking him with such skill that his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.

“Good Christ,” he muttered, his face dipping into her neck. “I haven’t been this close to coming in a woman’s hand since I was in high school.”

Her grip tightened slightly, her touch harder, as though knowing he liked a rougher touch. Some distant part of his brain registered that he and Mollie instinctively knew each other, knew what would send the other person over the edge, knew just how to touch, how to tease.

He felt his balls tighten, and he swore, his fingers finding her wrist and jerking her hand roughly away from him. “Fuck, you little witch—”

Her mouth fused with his, her free hand shoving at his pants, pushing them down. He helped her as they kissed, but in their current position, he couldn’t get the pants past his hips.

Jackson pulled back to remove the rest of his clothing, but Mollie wrapped her hands around his cock once more, her thumb rolling over the top, and he froze.

She held his eyes as she slowly pulled her knees up so she was wet and open beneath him. She guided him to her, rubbing the tip of his penis against her wet folds, but not letting him in.

Good God. This woman could make a grown man cry.

“I’m on the pill,” she said. “And just had all the usual tests, so if you’re—”

He bit her shoulder. “You should not have told me that.”

“Why—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Jackson had her hands above her head, his fingers manacling her wrists. He thrust inside her without warning, hard, and her back came off the bed as she cried out in surprise.

“Too hard?” he asked, his voice little more than a growl.

She shook her head and rotated her hips. “More.”

No problem there. He could do more. Hell, he could do this forever.

There was nothing better than being inside this woman. Nothing better than her breath hot and fast on his neck or her slim fingers intertwined with his. Nothing better than the way she sighed his name as though it were a prayer.

Even though his brain ordered him to slow down and make it last, his body had other ideas. He quickened his pace, and Mollie adjusted her legs, pulling them higher so that he rubbed against her with each thrust.

She let out a sinful moan. “Yes. There. Like that. Faster.”

Jackson was all too happy to comply, releasing one of her wrists so that his arm could hook around the back of her knee, holding her open as he circled his hips.

Mollie—his beautiful, responsive Mollie—came apart beneath him with a sharp cry as she contracted around his throbbing cock.

He thrust once more, hard, before he came with a roar he didn’t even recognize as his own. Jackson’s free hand clenched in her hair, probably too hard, but he was far beyond rational thought as he emptied himself inside her.

As Jackson’s brain slowly returned to earth, he registered her fingers absently stroking the outside of his hip, her lips lightly brushing against his shoulder, her heart pounding against his chest.

He forced himself to leverage himself upward, looking down into her face as he wrestled with two equally momentous feelings.

One: it had quite possibly been the hottest, most necessary sex of his life.

Two: it had happened with Mollie.

Mollie.

She gave him a bittersweet smile, as though reading his thoughts. “Want to make a pact to not talk about it until tomorrow?”

He pulled a strand of hair off her face where it had stuck to her lips. “I’ll take you up on that.”

Jackson shifted to his side, pulling her back against his front, marveling at the way her long body lined up perfectly with his.

She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers before folding his hand in hers and tucking it under her chin.

True to their pact, neither said a word about what had just transpired.

But they thought about it. Long, long into the night.





Chapter 18


When Mollie woke up, she was entirely focused on the most basic of human needs.

Coffee.

She opened one eye. Then the other. Sniffed, just to be sure. Yep, definitely coffee.

Mollie rolled onto her back, wondering why she felt so deliciously loose and…She bolted upright in bed and glanced down.

Naked. She was naked.

Last night came back in a rush of images and sighs and…

Mollie flopped back on the bed, throwing her arms over her head, burrowing her face in the crook of her elbow.

She’d slept with Jackson Burke. She’d slept with her ex-brother-in-law, and the sex had been positively epic.

Which normally would be worth celebrating. Hell, normally it would be worth repeating.

But Mollie felt a stab of regret, hot and low in her stomach. How could she ever face her sister again? Hell, how could she face Jackson?

“Well, that’s a pretty view.”

Her eyes flew open. Jackson. Very slowly she lowered her arms to tug the sheet upward, heart pounding as she wondered how they were going to play this.

She sat up, tucking the sheet under her armpits, as Jackson walked into the room. He looked far better than any man had a right to, considering he was wearing a basic white tee and blue checked pajama pants, but that could be because her mind was addled by the two coffee cups in his hands. Mind-blowing sex, plus coffee in bed the next morning? The man was a keeper.