by Melissa Blue
The urgency in his movements didn’t stop him from being gentle. Once sheathed, again, he brushed aside her hair. He kissed her shoulder blade and left a blaze of kisses along her skin and bent forward, pushing her down with him.
At her ear, he whispered, “Fast or slow?”
Eyes closed, not able to look at them without shivering from the wanton image, Abigail said, “Leave me with no doubt it’s me.”
He grunted. “Look at us.”
She shook her head and suddenly his hands were on her breasts, her nipples, rolling the hardened buds between his thumb and forefinger. She whimpered and braced her arms along the dresser’s top.
“Leave no doubt it’s me,” he murmured.
Skin to skin and in her heels they were perfectly lined up. She felt the crown of his penis resting hot and heavy near her soaking channel. His hand slid around her waist, encircling it with one arm. Drew used his other hand to guide his sex to hers, to rub the head of his penis against her wet and aching flesh.
“I want you to see what I see, Abby.”
The plea forced her eyes open and she met her own gaze first. Something hot and desperate flicked behind her gaze. It seemed all of his limbs were entangled with hers and a sheen of sweat formed at his brow. His eyes stayed open as he pressed another kiss on her shoulder and met her gaze. Hunger. Want. Need. She wasn’t the only one ready for them to tumble to the floor in a blind and mindless mating. And there was one thing to be in the moment and another to witness the low-lidded eyes, the parted lips and the naked forms as it happened. Drew made a sound full of pleasure.
“It’s always been you, Abby.” He thrust hard and deep into her.
If he had said something to remind her of the Drew she’d held so long in her mind, Abigail could have kept the piece of herself, the part she’d protected with every man. If he’d murmured something that would have made her come faster, Abigail might have been able to write it off. But it wasn’t either. All this time Abigail believed, no, had been convinced out of the two she was the one most vulnerable if things went this far. She wasn’t. He stood the most to lose.
It had always been him.
Abigail would have protested so they could lie on the bed, or to slow down the pace, but with every stroke, he reached deeper within her, quelling any words. Why she waited this long to be here with him like this didn’t matter. She was with him like this now.
His breath was heavy against her neck, his skin slick and so close to hers. Bent over the dresser while he pounded into her, the position shouldn’t have felt intimate, but there was no way she could ever confuse his deep and long strokes with anyone else.
She said what he needed to hear and meant it, “It’s only you, Drew.”
Abigail gripped the edge of the dresser, and he placed his hands on her hips, grinding slowly into her. A moan wrenched from her throat. The minutes stretched and she took all of him and could only think of him. Her heart filled with him. When it became too much to bear she said his name again softly.
The tempo quickened and she lost her breath as another orgasm ripped through her.Drew stilled as she tightened around him. His eyes closed and a breath shuddered out as he jerked deeper and came.
In the reflection she could see him. He blinked and then had to widen his eyes as though dazed. She bit down on her lip, on a satisfied smile. He pulled out and she whimpered at the momentary loss.
“Come on.” He tugged her hand, walking backward until they were both sprawled on the bed, she on top of him. They were face to face again.
Drew didn’t move, but laid there catching his breath as she laid her head against his chest. Without him saying a word she knew them like this, limbs entangled, naked, vulnerable and quiet in their contentment, was enough.
Abigail glanced up at his face and laughed, feeling light, and loving the hazy expression he wore. Was it wrong to hope she was the only woman to ever put that look on his face?
“Your face right now…” She laughed harder. “My friends are going to know.”
He pulled her down to his lips and kissed her again, deeply. After awhile, he said, “You’re friends would be disappointed if we hadn’t.”
She cradled his face in her hands, not able to stop touching him. “You’re right.”
And it did feel that way.
Chapter Thirteen
“What time is it?” Abigail asked for the third time even though they were walking up the steps to Emma’s door.
Drew rang the door bell. “We’re forty minutes late.”
The comment eased some of the tension. “Your reputation’s taking a definite hit.”
He brought her closer, placed a kiss on her forehead. “You’re wearing the red dress I’ll be taking off later. I’ll gladly accept the momentary set back.”
She lifted her chin, inviting him down for a real kiss. “You have an incredibly big ego.”
With the same tenderness, he kissed her, and then said, “That’s not the only thing that’s big.”
She snorted. “I asked for that.”
“You knew I couldn’t resist.” He kissed her again.
The door opened, but it felt too good to pull back just yet, so Abigail basked in Drew’s mouth being on hers.
“Who’s this tall drink of water?” Pamela said.
Abigail wrenched from Drew’s embrace at the speed of light. She’d moved to fast and she couldn’t keep balance. Her shoes skidded over the concrete and she almost fell off the steps. Drew caught her elbow with one hand and with the other he reached out to Pamela’s for a handshake.
“Drew Carter.”
Not their first meeting and soon Pamela’s memory would catch up, and then things would go from bad to worse. Abigail did her best to keep the men she dated very far away from her mother. She waited until they reached a stage where the man wouldn’t run in the other direction screaming because Pamela was what he could look forward to when Abigail got older. No matter how hard they tried, women tended to become their mothers or just pick up the worst habits.
Shudder.
This was bad, bad, bad because she still had the sex glow. Well, up until her mother spoke. The glow dimmed more at the glint in her mother’s eye as the older woman took in Drew’s overall appearance, and the protective stance he’d taken.
Abigail could weave all types of stories about how she’d recently met Drew out here on the porch. No, he wasn’t Greg’s cousin, they just looked the same. They weren’t serious yet. Mountains and mountains of lies wouldn’t refute her mother’s keen senses.
Pamela took Drew’s hand and cinched the measure of the man. “Pamela Johnson.”
Her mother’s other hand fluttered up to her throat. In order to salvage the situation, Abigail moved in front of Drew.
“We’re late. Must do my air kisses with Emma and Tobias.”
“I can see why you’re late,” Pamela said.
Drew leaned forward and whispered, “Asked for that one, too.”
She elbowed him lightly in the stomach and marched forward to force her mother to step back. Abigail’s intention had been to drag Drew right along with her, but suddenly his warmth disappeared. Pamela had hooked her arm through his.
“You go right ahead. I’ll keep Drew here company.” Pamela smiled up at him, and Abigail’s stomach plummeted.
Drew returned the smile, one corner of his mouth notched up, and Abigail’s stomach clenched. He’d donned the game face. The battle of wits had begun. He may or may not be enjoying Abigail’s discomfort, but it wasn’t the point of contention. Drew found Pamela’s unsubtle actions to get him alone, and to grill him, amusing and a challenge.
She had no doubt he’d charm the socks off her mother, but Drew had no idea what he was up against. Personality-wise, Abigail and her mother may be worlds apart, but they both didn’t beat around the bush. They didn’t let the dead dog lie.
Before Pamela would let Drew loose she’d know their current and future status. If Drew, in any way, talked about
Abigail as though he didn’t see her as a precious gem, Pamela would do her best to rip the man limb from limb.
It was the reason why Abigail didn’t bring men she was unsure of around her mother. If he passed with flying colors, it was hell to explain later why things didn’t work out. Her mother invested, which was insane since Pamela rarely did in her own life. But, that was family crazy for you.
Abigail stood there with indecision. Leave or stay? Her mother broke the standstill and fluttered a hand up in the direction of the kitchen. “Emma was cutting up some desserts to hand out to the guests.”
“I’ll be fine.” Drew smiled the one like a crook and directed it at Pamela.
Dismissed and despondent, Abigail headed to the kitchen. She found both best friends around the kitchen’s island. Josh had a dessert tray along his forearm like a waiter, and another sat on the island. His dark eyes lit when he saw Abigail. Not yet a man by her standards, he still looked handsome in the collarless dress shirt and black vest.
“Hog-tied you, I see,” she said as a way to say hi.
“Threatened then bribed,” he said.
She ignored both faux innocent expressions on her friends’ faces. “I’m guessing the former was done by Tobias and the latter by Emma.”
“You’re psychic.” Josh let out a droll sigh. “The looks on your faces is my cue to leave.”
Sasha held the door open for him, and the screen hadn’t smacked closed before the ribbing began. “You’re late. The tips of your hair are slightly curled from being wet. Now is that from a shower or sweat?”
Sasha reached for a bite-sized cake and had her hand lightly tapped by Emma. “I have them set up perfectly.” Without missing a beat, Emma took a napkin and picked up one of the cakes cooling on the stove. She gave it to Sasha who nodded her thanks. “My guess is from both. First the sweat then the shower.”
Abigail crossed her arms. “If I knew I would get this treatment, I would have stayed home.”
“Nice dress,” Sasha said. “But I think you’ve got something on the hemline.”
Emma tapped her lips. “What color is that? It looks—”
“Don’t you dare finish that statement,” Abigail said.
“She’s blushing.” Emma grabbed another cake bite and handed it to Sasha. “Have we ever seen her blush?”
“Never.” At Sasha’s scandalized tone Abigail could only laugh.
“Shut up, both of you.” She moved to the island and was handed a napkin too. “I’m here to celebrate the nuptials of my best friend and her groom-to-be.”
“Good counter-move.” Emma bounced. “We’re getting married. I’m sickening every time I talk about it, but I can’t shut up.”
Abigail hid her smile by wiping her mouth with the napkin. “It makes me nauseated to see you like this.”
“I would say the same, but nothing kills my appetite.” Another bite disappeared in Sasha’s mouth. She frowned then. “Where’s Drew?” A pained expression replaced the frown. “Oh.”
“Uh-oh,” Emma murmured.
Abigail turned around to see Drew and her mother still arm in arm as they rounded into the kitchen. The sight made the cake turn into lead in her stomach. Her mother no longer smiled. Drew had his blanket expression of not giving a damn and having a grand time. What had happened in the two-point-five minutes they’d been alone?
“I’m going to make sure Grams is ok.” Pamela headed out the screen door.
All three women watched the door slap shut in shocked silence. There was no drama, no threats, just an easy slide out the door. Drew took his forefinger and closed Abigail’s mouth. He’d earned the cocky smile he wore.
“Huh.” She hooked her arm in his.
Sasha made a face of approval. “Well, ok then.”
Emma handed him a napkin with a bite-sized cake. “Go mingle so I can watch from the kitchen window.”
“I’m guessing it’s good to see me again.” Drew laughed softly. “Come on, Ms. Johnson. You can shower me with praise later.”
Abigail planned to ask him right away what happened, but they got sucked in a whirlwind of introductions. Harder to actually explain their relationship, Abigail let people assume what they were, so he was simply Drew Carter as they made their way to the wet bar at the end of the porch deck.
Once they both had champagne glasses, he beat her to the question and answer phase. “These people are obsessed with the fact you’ve handled ads for erectile dysfunction.”
She sipped at the champagne. “Some people feel it’s a built in punch line.”
“It bothers you,” Drew said.
He was looking at the crowd of people. Most were family and friends of Emma. Tobias had invited a few cousins, but that was about it. Abigail hadn’t found her mother or Grams yet, but she’d spotted Sasha’s father and mother. Sasha was a big daddy’s little girl so she’d probably already said hi. The backyard was filled with their shared lives and it was no wonder Drew couldn’t tear his gaze away. This was an insight into her life. One he hadn’t been privy to before.
“I’m more than the sum of my parts,” she said in answer to his non-question.
“That’s what I told your mother.” He glanced down at her with a smirk. “Since you were dying to know.”
She fought back the smile. “Was not.”
“You were waiting for the right moment to ask nonchalantly.”
She sighed. “I was.”
“Abby, I want to be with you now and for a while after that.” He took another sip of champagne. “Since you were dying to know the answer to that too.”
Still, the answer didn’t ease the knot in her stomach. No one knew what could happen in the next moment, much less the next twenty or fifty years. People changed.
She spotted her father. “Speaking of the devil.”
Abigail sighed. There was no after-sex glow to be found. Not even if the feeling were knitted into a scarf and place around Where’s Waldo’s neck.
“What is it?” Drew asked.
Abigail finished the rest of her glass and muttered, “My father.”
Sans second wife, he lounged under one of the oak trees. The woman’s absence was both a relief and a disappointment. She actually liked her step-mother. Tia didn’t hold a dramatic bone in her body, but she could poke holes in tension with jokes. They made their way over to him under a string of fairy lights.
“There you are,” Eli’s voice rasped, deep and slow.
Like he always did, her father wrapped her in those former-football-playing wide arms into his barrel chest and squeezed. She let out a small, playful gasp.
“One of these days I’m going to pass out,” she said.
He settled one arm around her shoulder so that her head had only a chest to lie on. If it was any other night, in front of any other man, she would have rested her head there. They weren’t close, close so she enjoyed moments like this where it didn’t matter they would have stilted conversations soon after. She was Daddy’s Little Girl.
And…Abigail had caught her father’s look before the hug. This did not bode well.
“Drew Carter, Greg’s cousin, right?” Her father had steel in his voice and didn’t offer his hand.
She saw the small lift of Drew’s brows, but he covered it with an easy smile. “That’s correct. Eli?”
“Good with faces, too?”
“And names. It goes with the job.”
“What do you do, Drew?” Her father didn’t bother to beat around the bush.
“Daddy,” Abigail said and both men ignored her.
“Consultant for ad agencies. Currently I’m doing some work at Abby’s job.”
“Are you now.” Eli didn’t bother to mask it as a question. Her father glanced down at her. His brows furrowed with interest.
“He is and he’s good at it, too.” Abigail managed to squirm out of the possessive hold, but didn’t dare go back to Drew’s embrace. She was not going to participate in this pissing match. “We’re also, currentl
y, seeing each other. Yes, even though I was once engaged to his cousin. Where’s Tia?”
“Home and sick, but she sends her congratulations and regards,” Eli said to Abigail but uttered the next to Drew, “You’ve met her before. The first time I saw you, I believe.”
What didn’t need to be said is that Drew had another woman plastered against him. The type of woman where you didn’t have to question the nature of the relationship.
“Tia. Polite, funny and beautiful,” Drew said.
Her father grunted with displeasure, and of course there would be nothing Drew could say to change the fact. Though, Drew kept up the cool appearance, she could tell how uncomfortable he was. His innate confidence wasn’t a shell or a sham, but he leaned on it heavily in situations like this.
Drew cleared his throat. “Economics professor?”
“You have a really good memory.” It wasn’t stated as a compliment.
“It serves me well in what I do. So, this question won’t bond us, but it’ll definitely make Abigail stop looking like she wants the earth to swallow her.” He paused. “What do you think about the economy right now?”
Eli laughed and finally relaxed. “She’s my only girl. Can’t give her brothers’ dates hell.
“It’s appreciated but unnecessary,” Abigail said. “And I didn’t want the earth to swallow me. I wanted to hit you both over the head. I’m going to get a refill. You guys talk money.” She added, “And behave.”
Pamela must have been watching Abigail like a hawk, because the older woman was on her the moment she stopped at the porch’s stairs. The bar felt miles away.
“I don’t like him,” Pamela announced. “He’s a little too slick for my taste. I mean look at him. He’s over there wooing your dad, no less. I’m sure he asked about the current economic status of the country. I loved your father, but once you got him talking about the economy anyone will be praying for a bolt of lightning to strike them dead.”
Abigail paused on the porch deck steps. Pamela had on heels so high it made Abigail’s arches hurt in sympathy. The canary-yellow dress had a ’60s vibe, but it was skin tight. The bone-straight hair, so much like her own, was pinned up all but for the swoop on the left side. It was definitely her mother.
