Resisting Molly (5 page)

Of course that was a lot easier said than done.

One Friday evening the first norther of the season blew through to howl around the eaves all night and wail and moan through little cracks around my window. Next morning despite a new chill in the air the sun hung bright and cheerful in a perfect cerulean sky. It was going to be a gorgeous day, and I felt a lightness in my heart as I sat and sipped my coffee in the sun-soaked breakfast nook.

“Hey.”

Despite the cool outside Jonathan’s skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat from his run. I tried not to notice, but that body of his looked more scrumptious than ever and just the sight of him made me ache. And his smile… I had been living with the man for weeks, picked up his dirty socks when he forgot them in the den and grumbled every time he went off and left the lights on. Shouldn’t I have been over getting butterflies from his smile by now? But it felt really good and I didn’t mind.

“Hi.” I hid my answering smile in my coffee mug and dropped my eyes.

“You up for helping me out this morning?”

I looked up in surprise. “Sure. What do you need?”

“The storm blew some of the shingles off the barn, and I could use a hand getting that fixed.”

“Okay. I’ll go find some work clothes.”

“I’ll meet you at the barn, then.”

When I got outside Jonathan already had an extension ladder propped against the side of the barn and he was bringing out the things he needed—shingles, a big bucket of tar, a long rope, and a pail with some tools and a bag of roofing nails.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m going up on the roof with the rope. I’ll lower the end, and then you tie this stuff to it and I’ll pull it up.”

In a few minutes he had everything he needed and I was left standing below, squinting and shielding my eyes from the bright morning sunlight as I tried to watch him. After a while I started to get a kink in my neck so I found a sunny spot that was nice and warm and stretched out in the grass. I closed my eyes for a while and soaked in the bright rays until I found myself getting drowsy. That was no good; I’d end up falling asleep just when Jonathan needed something, so I sat up and tried to shake the cobwebs from my brain.

When I looked back up on the roof my jaw dropped. Jonathan had pulled off his shirt and the bronze skin of his chest glowed in a halo of sunlight. The brown leather tool belt slung rakishly around his waist drew my attention lower. It only took a couple of seconds of that before I needed another norther to blow through to cool me down again. Why did the man have to be so damned gorgeous? It just wasn’t fair. Not that I was about to look away.

Over the next hour I fetched him some more shingles and nails, then helped him while he lowered everything off the roof. And I did my best not to stare too hard at the way his faded work jeans clung to his tight, athletic butt as he climbed down the ladder. Not saying I succeeded, but I did try. We stood admiring his handiwork for a while before we headed back to the house. Maybe it was the crisp morning air, or maybe it was my hormones going all loopy from watching a hot, shirtless man wearing a tool belt for the last hour, but without thinking about it my mouth threw out a question that I had been wondering about forever.

“Why did you keep this place after your wife died?”

Jonathan cocked his head and gave me an odd look, and I covered my mouth with my hands, eyes wide at my own daring.
Unbelievable
. What the heck had gotten into me? That was none of my business and since Jonathan never talked about her it had to be painful for him. I’d gone and put my foot in it now. But he didn’t seem upset or anything. He just gave the house a long look and then turned wistful green eyes back to me.

“She wanted to have a pack of kids, and had all these ideas about what she wanted to redecorate and change up. I guess I kept it because this was where all of my dreams were.”

Our eyes met and the air fairly crackled between us. There should have been a flash of bright sparks or something.
Are
, I wanted to tell him. Present tense. It’s where your dreams
are
. But of course I didn’t say anything, and we went back to the house in silence.

The next morning Jonathan didn’t go for his run. When I sat down for my coffee he blew through the kitchen with his golf clubs, looking more than a little harried. I stopped him, straightened his collar, and pushed a coffee mug into his free hand.

“Thanks.”

“What are you doing? You hate golf.”

His face twisted into a grimace. “Yes, but my friends insist I play with them every other month or so to maintain the doctor stereotype. Otherwise the nurses start getting restless.”

I laughed. “Well we wouldn’t want that. Have fun.”

He disappeared into the garage and I heard his trunk slam. A few seconds later he swept back into the kitchen looking even more vexed.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my sunglasses?”

“You left them on the table by your recliner in the den.”

“Thanks,” he said, and bent to give me a swift peck on the lips. “You’re a life saver.”

He managed to make it three steps towards the den before he realized what had just happened and stopped short. Slowly he turned around to face me again, eyes stormy gray and wide in shock. We stared at one another while my heart tried to beat its way through my chest, and I couldn’t make my voice work.

“Jonathan?” My mouth moved but no sound came out.

Before I had time to react he had pulled me up into his arms and his lips ravaged mine while his hands slid beneath my cotton pajamas in search of my bare skin. There was no restraint this time—we both knew from the moment our lips touched that there would be no turning back from this. I welcomed him in, eagerly dancing against his tongue, shared a whimper of mixed relief and urgency. One hand found the small of my back and splayed there to draw me more tightly against his body while the other caught the back of my neck, fingers sliding into my morning-wild hair, holding me as though he was afraid I might disappear or something. Blood sizzled through my veins as my body came almost instantly alive to him and I moaned again, my nipples hardening against his chest, breasts suddenly hot and tender. Where his hand touched my back fire radiated out along my skin to flicker along nerves gone mad with sensation until I blazed from head to toe with the desire Jonathan unleashed.

With a growl he pulled his mouth from mine, eyes wild and dark as he swept my t-shirt over my head to bare my impatient breasts. I cried out as that wet need suckled my nipple and ragged bolts of pleasure seared down through my trembling sex. A gnawing ache in my clit jolted my loins and my pussy throbbed hard. I was suddenly desperate to have him inside of my body, craved him with a need greater than my need to take my next breath.

My body shook as I fought free of his mouth, grabbed his shirt and began tugging at it. I wanted his skin touching mine, wanted his heat wrapped around me and buried within me all at once. He had to help, but his shirt flew off somewhere and our hands went wild exploring all of this new bare flesh. Again his mouth crashed down on mine and he held me so close I could hardly breathe. I didn’t care—I didn’t need to breathe, I just needed him. From the way his velvet tongue claimed me, greedily, taking possession of every part of my mouth, I knew Jonathan must want me just as badly.

His hands curled around me and ran high up my sides, fingers tantalizing against the sides of my breasts, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to get them out of his way. Slowly he dragged his fingers down my sides and I shuddered at the delicious tickles which ran along my ribs. There was something about his hands, his touch—it was as though I had never been touched in my life until he did it. He brought every nerve to life at once and each one quivered expectantly awaiting him.

Those strong fingers pushed aside the waistband of my pajama bottoms, lingered on my tingling skin for a few rapturous moments before he began to peel the thin cotton over my hips. My breath was ragged when his mouth released mine, and I was so overcome that I would have staggered back if he hadn’t caught me. I had had sex before, had even enjoyed it, but nothing in my previous experience had prepared me to be overwhelmed like this. While Jonathan bent to get rid of my bottoms and panties I held onto his broad shoulders and fought to clear my head. I shouldn’t have bothered. As soon as his breath whispered hot across my mound and thighs and I melted all over again.

Fingers teased and he brushed a kiss against that yearning skin. I wanted to scream from the need which tore through me, but as his tongue swept warm velvet across me I could only moan.

“No, Jonathan.
Please
, no,” I whimpered.

Oh, I wanted it, wanted his mouth to devour my sex the way he had my mouth, to lick me until I died of bliss. And soon I would, but at that moment I needed more than anything to have him inside of me. His reluctance lasted until my fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans and then he was eager again, helping me tear the tight denim down his legs and stepping out of it so there was nothing between us at all now except for his flimsy, gray briefs.

This time I wouldn’t let him help, pushed his hands away as they moved to the waistband, and slid the fingers of both my hands along his eager steel. I could barely catch my breath, could barely think as I slowly pulled away the flimsy fabric to reveal his straining manhood and took it in my hands. It twitched hard in my grip and Jonathan uttered a whisper of a moan, a look of pure agony on his face as he fought to hold himself back.

“Now,” I told him. “I need you.”

Powerful arms lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, then let myself slip down so his head pushed straight into the waiting liquid heat of my tunnel. By the time I had claimed him completely Jonathan had me pinned against the wall, his breath burning against my neck as he moved his arms to support my weight.

“So perfect,” he breathed. “So fucking beautiful. My Molly.”

Oh, yes. I was his. All of me. Always.

Need possessed us both, and with the wall to hold us up we slid against each other, pounded our bodies together as our mouths clashed in a frenzy of tongues and mixed breaths. His cock drove into me, filled me, an incandescent spike hammering sweet ecstasy into me with every stroke. I tore away from his mouth, sucking in air so I could cry out as pure feeling took me over, softly at first but building and building until the wave crested within me and burst into a million shimmering droplets.

While my body shuddered against his Jonathan found his own release with a hoarse moan. His head flung back and he shoved me hard against the wall while he emptied himself inside me, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe.

When I came to myself my face was buried against his neck while I sucked down air in short, shallow breaths and tears streamed down my cheeks. I don’t know why but I was suddenly terrified, and I tightened my grip on Jonathan until he grunted. He just held me, held me and petted me until my silent sobs subsided and I could feel his muscles quivering with strain. I relaxed my hold and he gently lifted me up off of his softening manhood then shifted me so that I was cradled in his arms.

“Oh, Molly,” he said when he saw my face. He swiped gently at a tear with his thumb.
 
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I just don’t want this to be it. I don’t want this to be all there ever is.”

“No.” His voice was low and his face grew determined. “I won’t let you go now. I can’t.”

Except he sort of had to so we could go up to his room, because the stairs were too narrow for him to carry me unless he slung me over his shoulder. Not that it would have bothered me—I just didn’t want to tire him out before we even got to his bed. He never did make it to his golf game.