Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

by Alexa Padgett

  I stood and set my hands on her shoulders. She stilled, her body coiled tightly.

  “I’m pretty sure I can find you a toothbrush. My mom brings over packages from Costco once a month.” I took her hand, pulling her down the hall toward my room. Her footsteps faltered, but I kept a firm grip on her hand.

  Past my bed and into my bathroom, I practically dragged her the whole way. I opened a drawer and offered her one of the many toothbrushes. She picked one out, her eyes wide with concern.

  “I don’t have anything to sleep in,” she said.

  “That is the exact opposite of a turn-off,” I said. I couldn’t help chuckling. She was cute when she was nervous.

  “It’s just . . . I’ve never done this before.”

  Her honesty was disarming, and I cupped her cheek, trying to soothe the fear building in those big, expressive eyes. “Neither have I. It’s going to be okay, Abbi. You’ll see.”

  Her smile was tentative but it was genuine. “Okay.”

  “I’ll grab you a T-shirt. You do your thing while I make sure the front door’s locked.”

  Knowing Abbi was in my room getting ready for bed had me all kinds of hot and bothered. I’d never shared my bed with a woman before. Abbi there, sharing my sheets, feeling my body heat, was both strange and appealing.

  I took my time locking the front door and the back slider leading to our terrace. I picked up the four glasses on the coffee table and settled them in the dishwasher.

  I walked back into my room, and Abbi stumbled back from the far side of the bed, clutching my duvet to her T-shirt-clad chest.

  “Sleep on this side,” I said. “I like that one.”

  I waited to feel creeped out by having a side of a bed. That meant serious, right? Like, a real relationship. Didn’t come. She crawled into the bed and fluffed her pillow behind her head.

  “You look good there.” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Mainly because I hadn’t meant to think it.

  She finally looked at me, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Your bed is really comfortable. I may stay with you just for more mattress time.” Her cheeks reddened and she covered her mouth. “Oh, that sounded bad.”

  “Nope. Hot. Sounded hot. I’m going to get ready for bed now. See you in a minute.”

  Once I was behind the locked bathroom door, I tipped my head back and swallowed.

  Intense desire ripped through me. Abbi, in my bed, laughing up at me . . . Shit, I hadn’t been ready for that.

  I pushed off the door and touched my finger to the wet bristles of her toothbrush, surprised by the growing bubble in my chest.

  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and rolled my eyes. “Just helping out a friend.”

  I ran through my night routine on autopilot, my mind on Abbi’s soft, warm curves snuggled under my covers.

  I couldn’t help the semi-erection I sported as I walked back to the bed in my boxers and tee. Abbi’s eyes glistened in the dark.

  “You’re quite the sight, Clay Rippey.”

  I slid into the bed and snuggled my hips to hers. “You feel good, Abigail Dorsey. We should make this a habit.”

  She stiffened against me. “I don’t want to impose.”

  My fingers clutched at her waist. “Yeah, it’s a fucking imposition to have you, a beautiful woman, all soft and willing in my bed. Tragic. For me.”

  “I just meant—”

  I couldn’t see her, but she had to be nibbling the corner of her mouth. I bent, searching, finding the spot for myself. Yep. She was. I tugged it gently, and before I realized my actions, I’d dipped my head closer and licked her lip. Abbi moaned. The sound was soft, closer to a gasp. I loved it. This, here, was just us. Learning her in a way no one else had.

  I pressed her onto her back, my lips never leaving hers as I reached up to cup her cheek. I let my tongue plunder her mouth, just as I’d wanted to for days. Fine, weeks. I pressed my hand against the back of her head, tipping her head to give me better, deeper access to her mouth.

  “I love the way you kiss me,” I murmured. “You give me all of your mouth.”

  I ran my lips across hers, a slow, slick slide of desire. She shuddered and moaned. Kissing Abbi was addictive. My body screamed for more—more of her taste, her passion. More.

  I rolled off, breathing harder than after a mile-long sprint. I shoved the heels of my hands into my eye sockets and tried to turn off my raging need.

  “Shit, Abbi. Shit. I didn’t mean to take it that far.”

  “I didn’t want you to stop,” she said. Her voice was quiet, a little uncertain. A dagger to my heart.

  “That’s why I had to.”

  She pressed her hand to my chest, her fingers splayed wide. I maneuvered my arm until it was wrapped around her waist. She was narrow, my arm easily curling back to her stomach. She lifted her head and placed it on my shoulder. I kissed the top of her head, nuzzling my nose through her soft hair.

  “I’ve never held a woman for the sake of holding one. I like that it’s with you, Abbi.”

  “I do, too.” She yawned, her jaw stretched across my pec. I shifted, trying to ease the ache in my balls.

  We were quiet, Abbi snuggled in closer as her body eased into sleep. It was magical, holding her against me, knowing she trusted me so much with her body.

  I swallowed down another curse, because I shouldn’t be thinking this way. I was Abbi’s fake boyfriend, fulfilling a role she needed me to because I’d promised to help her through this scary time. As Abbi relaxed into sleep, I tried to will away the throbbing need from my crotch and the lustful thoughts from my mind.

  Didn’t work.

  20

  Abbi

  At Clay’s request, I’d spent the last three nights at his place. Three nights of getting a full eight hours of sleep, sometimes more, in Clay’s bed. As usual, I woke with my back pressed to his front, his arms wrapped around me, cuddling me back into his thick erection. His breath was soft against my cheek. I was wrapped up in his scent and body.

  I loved feeling safe and desired, was quickly becoming addicted to this new reality. But it was fake. And I didn’t want our relationship to be just for the media. I wanted a shot at . . . well, at an us. A real one.

  “Good morning,” he said, nuzzling into my hair.

  Clay was usually so controlled with his emotions, his every action, making me appreciate these glimpses into the man who lived behind his public mask.

  I rolled over in his arms, linking mine around his neck. “It certainly is. I sleep really well with you.”

  His green eyes darkened as he searched my face. “You don’t sleep well?”

  I shrugged, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. “Nightmares.”

  “From that night?”

  “Not like memories,” I sighed. “More like possible scenarios. Worst case.”

  “And this has been going on the whole time?”

  I nodded.

  “Christ, Abbi.”

  I leaned in and pressed my lips to the corner of his. He stayed stiff and unresponsive, his mind clearly on that night. I kissed him on the other side of his mouth, this time letting the tip of my tongue flick against his firmed lips. Somewhere in the past few days, I’d begun to believe he cared for me as I cared for him.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I was trying to tell you how good waking up with you is.”

  His arms slid up my back to cup my shoulders, his thumbs rubbing the back of my neck.

  “I like it, too.”

  “I could tell.” I giggled, pressing my hips tighter against his hard shaft.

  “Stop that.”

  I slithered against him until we touched from chest to feet. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a moan. I smiled as he failed.

  “Shut up and kiss me, Clay.”

  “Abbi,” he said with a sigh.

  “It’s practice. For our fake date. So we look totally into each other.” I rolled my eyes, tried to keep my voice sardonic.
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  He laughed as I’d hoped he would, flopping back on the bed, arms thrown wide. I took him in: over six feet of muscled male, his green eyes bright with mirth. His shoulders were broad and his shirt had ridden up so I could see his navel and the deep V on either side of his boxers still tented with desire for me. His legs were long, well-muscled, covered in soft brown hair.

  I clambered up his body, letting my hips land on his thighs. He groaned as I cuddled him between my thighs. We stared at each other, desire spiraling up with each beat of our pulses.

  “I want you, Clay.”

  He reared up, cupping the back of my head and kissing me before I finished my plea. His mouth was ravenous as he rolled us to our sides. His large palm slid over my cotton-clad breast and I arched into him, needing more. He tugged my nipple, pulling it to a stiff peak.

  “Can I see you?”

  I pulled my shirt up, Clay’s big hands shoving the material so it bunched over my ribs. He moaned when the cool air hit my breasts. He tugged the shirt over my head, tossing it toward the foot of the bed.

  “I’ve wanted to do this forever,” he said, lowering his head until the wet heat of his tongue laved my breast. I moaned, low and long when he took it in his mouth. I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling him tighter to my body. My other hand slid over his shoulder and down the ridge of muscle on his back.

  He moved to my other breast, his tongue licking before his mouth suckled me to greater pleasure. I scored my nails up his back, and he grunted, his hands sliding over my body.

  I writhed, wanting more. So much more.

  “Abbi, I really think we should wait.” His voice was hoarse.

  “I can’t, Clay. I need you. Please. Please.”

  I slid my hand down to cup him through his boxer briefs. His erection grew larger and pulsed in my hand. I explored him with gentle, inquisitive fingers before sliding my hand under his waistband. He threw his head back, his teeth gnashed.

  I licked the cords in his neck before I moved down to nibble on that spot at his shoulder I’d discovered he loved. He started to roll away just as I palmed him, a small exclamation forming as I learned his length and girth. He shuddered in surrender, his hands sliding from my waist down over my hips.

  He leaned in and kissed his way along my jaw, my eyes, down my nose, taking my mouth in a long, slow drugging kiss that was too sweet. I murmured into his mouth, trying to tell him what I needed.

  But Clay knew I needed slow drugging kisses followed by long, tongue-tangling ones. He knew I needed him to kiss his way down my chest and belly, taking his time to learn the contours of my ribs and the indentation at my hips. He knew I needed to climb slowly, with such sweet sensual promise.

  And I did. Because Clay asked me to. My need built as he took his time, caressing my thighs and the curves of my rear before moving back up to my breasts. His eyes were intense and dark when he finally rose over me, braced between my splayed thighs.

  I’d never wanted anything—anyone—as much as I wanted Clay. He’d played me more skillfully than his banjo, and I vibrated with desire. He leaned down and kissed me again. Another one of those long, slow kisses as he tugged my panties down my legs. I wrapped my thighs around his hips, urging him closer.

  “You sure, Abbi? I’ll stop.” Despair laced his voice. These words cost him.

  “Don’t stop. I need you inside me.”

  He inched a finger into my ready, willing body. I moaned, loving how he filled me.

  “You’re so tight,” he moaned against my mouth.

  I shifted my hips in a restless motion. He stilled, looking at me. My breasts ached and my sex clenched hard around his finger. My nails bit into his shoulders, and he grunted. He trailed kisses down my neck, hovering over my pebbled nipple.

  I arched my back and he cupped my breast, eyes on mine as he slowly licked across my sensitive peak. His fingers toyed with me, just inside my entrance, rubbing, circling my swollen flesh.

  “Not yet. We’re taking this slow. It’s your first time, Abbi.”

  First time. Not first time I’d remember. I tugged at his hair until he brought his lips up to mine. I kissed him the way he liked—rubbing my lips against his in slow, light brushes. He licked my lips until I opened for him, sucking his tongue into my mouth.

  I ran my fingertips over his eyebrows, the morning scruff of his beard, down his neck to his shoulders. He broke the kiss and ran his fingers up my rib cage, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast.

  “Clay,” I cried, my head falling back as I struggled against his teasing. His lips closed over my nipple and I clutched his head to my chest, my feet rubbing up and down his calves. “Oh, God. Oh.”

  He chuckled, as he sucked on my breast.

  “Glad to know you think so highly of me.”

  He moved to my other breast, nipping and licking. I bucked under him, my breath so ragged.

  He was going to tease me up to a climax. I didn’t want that. I needed him now. I slid my hands down his sweat slicked-back, feeling his muscles quiver under my touch. Good, he wasn’t as unaffected as he seemed. I cupped his buttocks, pulling him tighter to my core. He retaliated by rolling my nipple to the roof of his mouth. My body tensed, on the edge of something amazing.

  “That’s right, Abbi. Come for me.” He swirled his finger over my clit, and I exploded. I rode out the thick pulses with my mouth pressed to his collarbone, mewling his name over and over.

  He kissed my temple before rolling to his side. “That was so hot.”

  I stretched, rubbing my cheek against his chest. “Mmm hmm.”

  He ran his hands down my back, cupping my hips. His thumbs rubbed over my hipbones to the hollows that led to the apex of my thighs. I lifted one of my legs so my knee rested on his hip. I rubbed against his hard length.

  I leaned forward and kissed his chest. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his underwear. “You have condoms, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  He nodded to his dresser across the room. “Top drawer.”

  I kissed him again, teasing him with my tongue and my fingers, keeping both light. He shifted, probably to pull me back into his arms, but I rolled from the bed.

  21

  Clay

  Disappointment filled me, along with a surge of desire. Damn, Abbi had a sexy back, all soft, smooth skin. Her hair caressed her, just like I’d like to do, ending a couple of inches above her narrow waist. My dick twitched again, tighter, so achy after three days of cuddling. Sleeping with Abbi was beautiful torture. I shouldn’t enjoy it so much.

  “Stay right there,” she commanded.

  I stacked my hands under my head. “No problem. Loving the view.”

  She threw me a smile over her shoulder and I groaned. No way I was recovering quickly from this hot-and-heavy make-out session.

  “You can love it even more in a minute. In fact, I’m going to insist you do.”

  I cupped my aching balls and gritted my teeth. Abbi was innocent in a lot of ways, no matter what some assholes had done to her body. I hadn’t planned to be the one to ease her into intimacy, but I wasn’t turning her down either. Abbi knew the score, knew where we stood. So if she wanted to offer me her body, I was damn happy to accept that gift.

  She pulled a couple of the foil packets from the opened package, and she seemed to pull into herself. I knew she was thinking about where the rest of the condoms were. I bit back a curse as she set the empty box on the dresser top with care.

  “You must be good,” she said. She smiled, but this time it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I borrowed some from Dane.” I shrugged. “A man can hope.” I sat up, ready to swing my legs over the bed and gather her back into my arms. Not to have sex, though I wanted to, but to hold her.

  “Stay there.” She licked her lips as her eyes traveled my body. I lay back, watching her cheeks heat and her nipples firm.

  Good to know I did it for her as much as she did for me. She w
alked back toward me, her gaze getting hotter.

  She started at the foot of the bed, condoms clutched in her hand and she crawled over my feet and legs. She stopped at my straining cock to look at me from under her lashes. “Seems like we have a situation.”

  “Abbi.”

  She kissed me right there on the tip through the thin cotton of my boxer briefs. Her warm breath and the heat of her mouth felt so good. I barely resisted the urge to thrust into her mouth. She kissed me again, a little surer of her power.

  I’d never been with a woman as inexperienced as Abbi. There was something mind-blowlingly hot about watching her come into her sexuality. But, at the same time, I didn’t want her to feel pressure to be what she thought I wanted.

  I wasn’t sure it was what I wanted. Playing her boyfriend was totally different from being her boyfriend.

  “We’re going to wait,” I gritted.

  “Why? Don’t you want me?” She sat back, confusion fading the sexy flush from her cheeks.

  “Do you see my dick?”

  She considered me before kissing her way up my chest, stopping to flick her tongue over my abs, then again on my nipples. When her teeth clamped around my ear lobe, I groaned and my hips thrust up, seeking her warmth.

  “Seems like you do want me.”

  “Dammit, Abbi, you know I do.”

  “Show me, Clay. Please.”

  Shit. Her eyes were wide with need but also vulnerability. She thought I was turning her down because of what those douchebags did to her. My cock was more than happy to let her know that wasn’t the case, but still, I worried Abbi would regret having sex with me if we did this.

  “I trust you, Clay.”

  And there it was. She trusted me with her secrets and her body. And I was more than a willing accomplice.

  I grabbed one of the condoms still clutched in her hand. I put it to her mouth. She frowned at it, then me.

  “Rip it open. With your teeth.”

  She smiled, then did as I asked. Sexy as hell.

  I pulled off my boxers and rolled on the condom. I lifted her hips. She had her hands on my shoulders for balance. I positioned her where I wanted her and then moved my hands up to cup her hips. “When you’re ready.”