Brayden, Melissa - How Sweet It Is

A slow, sexy smile took shape on Jordan’s lips. “Yeah?”

She let out a breath “You have no idea.”

Jordan laid the hose down on the driveway and closed the distance between them. With measured determination, she placed her hands on the car, on either side of Molly, effectively boxing her in. They weren’t touching, but Molly would never have known that from the humming she felt across her skin and the aching that she felt lower. Jordan’s eyes never left her mouth in a move that affected her all the way down to her toes. Damn it all, she was captivating.

“We can’t kiss out here,” Molly whispered. “There are neighbors, you know. It would be all over town by sundown.”

“But I really want to.”

Molly inclined her head to the house. “In there. There can be kissing in there.” She ducked under Jordan’s left arm and headed casually for the front door. She had no way of knowing if Jordan would follow her in, but she had a feeling.

*

Jordan went still and stared after Molly as she walked into the house. Who knew a car wash could be such great foreplay? She’d felt Molly watching her, and it had her completely and utterly turned her on.

She found Molly in the kitchen, putting away the lemonade. She approached her from behind and carefully swept her hair to the side, and exposed the back of her neck. She took it in for a moment, that neck, the simplistic beauty of it. She kissed it delicately, drawn in further by the warmth of her skin. Molly turned around, and the look on her face caused Jordan’s stomach to clench. Her eyes were hungry and it looked good on her.

Molly stepped into her space, her lips parted slightly. She cradled Jordan’s face in her hands and pulled her in slowly. The kiss was equally slow, and God damn it, beyond good. She loved the way Molly kissed. It was thorough, tantalizing, and in this particular moment, it tasted sweet, like lemonade.

The couch was a few feet away, and Jordan angled them in that direction, the kiss unbroken. It wasn’t even an option really, to break that kiss. Molly palmed her breast through her shirt in a move that made her hitch in a breath. Molly’s thumb circled the nipple she could feel straining against her bra. Not satisfied, Molly pushed her tank top up as she settled Jordan onto the couch and slid on top, all soft, determined, and sexy. With each breath Molly took, her breasts rose and fell against Jordan.

Yeah, this.

This was the moment she’d needed since she’d arrived at Molly’s house. It was quite easily, perfection.

She was perfection.

After one last searing kiss, Molly pushed the cups of Jordan’s bra up, and with her tongue began to trace circles around first one breast then the other. As she pulled a nipple more firmly into her mouth and sucked, Jordan moaned quietly. She reached around and pulled Molly firmly up against her, needing so much more and not wanting to wait for it. But Molly gently grasped her wrists and placed them next to her head in a signal that she was in charge, a move that upped Jordan’s level of need about three notches. The expression on her face was one of such earnest intent that it was all Jordan could do to surrender to her touch.

God, this woman. She was dying.

Molly kissed lazily down her stomach to her abdomen and began to unbutton her jeans slowly, excruciatingly so, and when it just about seemed like her world had stopped on its axis, there was a knock at the door. They both went still. When the sound of a doorbell followed, their eyes met. “Just stay quiet and they’ll go away,” Molly whispered.

Jordan nodded and held her eyes, trying desperately to maintain her breathing with Molly’s hands still on the zipper of her jeans. Several seconds passed.

“MollyDolly, you home?” Another knock. “Your car is in the driveway.”

Molly’s eyes widened and she pushed herself up. “Dad?” she called. “How did he get here?” she murmured and made her way quickly to the door.

Jordan took the cue and put herself back together again, attempting to resemble a normal human being going about life. No crazy almost-sex here. She followed Molly to the entryway where she found her ushering her father into the house.

“Hi there, sweetheart,” he said, kissing Molly’s cheek and squeezing her tight.

Molly looked incredibly concerned. “Is everything all right? What’s going on?”

“No, no, everything is fine. Just thought I’d pay my daughter a visit. Oh, hello,” he said, noticing Jordan for the first time.

“Dad, it’s Jordan Tuscana. You remember Jordan.”

He looked harder and broke into an enormous grin. “Why, it sure is. Well, would you look at this girl? I haven’t seen you in years.” He closed the distance between them and pulled Jordan into a warm embrace. She’d always liked Mr. O’Brien. There was something about him that spoke of kindness, and there was always that contagious twinkle in his eye. Plus, he used to give her a free cookie when she’d stopped by the bakeshop growing up.

“Hi, Mr. O. It’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” He turned to Molly and hooked a thumb at Jordan. “This one’s turned into quite a looker.”

“She has,” Molly agreed conservatively. “All grown up, it seems.”

“Doesn’t it just seem?” Jordan said playfully, sliding Molly a private look. Molly responded with widened eyes, a silent warning for her to behave.

“You don’t look much like Cassie,” Mr. O’Brien said, studying Jordan. “But I suppose you always favored your mother’s side of the family and Cassie your father’s. Wouldn’t you say, Molly?”

Jordan caught the obvious tension that entered Molly’s body at the mention of her sister and deflated a little at the sight. It was still there, that silent barrier between them. Maybe it always would be.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s about right.” But her eyes had lost the vibrancy that had been there just a moment before, and Jordan felt the hit.

She’d spent her whole life being compared to Cassie. Why would this be any different? The only thing was, it was too important to pale in comparison when it came to Molly. She couldn’t live with falling short in this instance. So what did that mean for them?

“What have you girls got going tonight?”

Molly shook her head at him. “Wait. You haven’t explained how you got here.” She threw a curious glance out the entryway window. “Did someone from The Manor drive you? Why didn’t they call?”

“I walked,” he said, and strolled past them into the living room.

“Dad!” Molly said, following him. “That’s like fourteen blocks. Please tell me you didn’t. You know better.”

Mr. O’Brien took a seat and sighed deeply as he settled into the chair. “Relax. I made it here in one piece.”

“And what if you hadn’t?” Molly looked horrified. “Your heart can’t take that kind of exertion anymore. The doctors have been through this with you. Why won’t you listen to them?”

“Molly, I’m a sixty-eight-year-old man who wanted to see his daughter. And I decided to do just that.”

“I would have come to you. Or picked you up.”

Mr. O’Brien looked frustrated and a little sad. “I have to be able to do things for myself. Why won’t anyone let me? I’m more than capable—” But he was coughing now, and it didn’t sound good. Molly moved to sit beside him and Jordan sought a glass of water from the kitchen.

When the rattling cough subsided, he drank a few swallows from the glass. “I’m sorry,” he said to Molly resolutely. “I don’t like upsetting you, but I needed to get out on my own this afternoon. I needed to feel like a person again. Like myself.”

Molly nodded, but tears touched her eyes. She hugged him then, and Jordan felt a sentimental pull at the display. They’d always had such a strong bond, Molly and her father. For years, she’d watched their relationship with envy. She didn’t have very many gentle moments with her own father. He just wasn’t built that way. A ruffling of her hair, or a quick half hug. He meant well, she knew that, but it had never been easy the way it was for the two people in front of her. They were a team and it showed.