Chapter Sixteen
Lying side by side on the floor, still gasping for breath, Pierce said in awe, “Holy shit. That was . . . whoa.” He chuckled ruefully. “I can’t believe I just took you on the floor of the sunroom. Jesus. I couldn’t even hold out long enough to get you into a bed. You were right all along: I am a big bad wolf.” He glanced her way to flash a naughty grin as she giggled. “And you know what? I’m not apologizing. That was hot. I loved every second of it.”
“Me too,” Abby said. She grinned right back at him, looking sated and sensuous. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to stop. I basically urged you to take me on the floor of the sunroom. So what does that make me?”
“Absolutely fantastic,” he proclaimed. He rolled onto his side and leaned up on one elbow to gaze down at her. His eyes and hands roved along her naked body. “And absolutely beautiful.” He lowered his mouth onto hers, lingering, letting himself drown in long kisses. Her hands reached up to touch his face, snaking around his neck as he kissed her, as his teeth scraped along her throat and nibbled on her lips. “Abby . . . that was amazing. You little vixen. I told you you’d surprise me.”
She smiled. “I, uh . . .” Giving up, she pulled his head down for more kisses. They luxuriated in each other, drifting hands and sweeping tongues and satisfied smiles. After a minute, he rolled away and discreetly disposed of the condom, then went back to her. He held her close, pressed the length of his body against hers, and plundered her mouth as they curled into each other.
“Your sister’s not going to walk in on us, right?” Abby said.
“No,” Pierce assured her with a laugh. “That would be something, huh? I told you, she’s sleeping up at the main house tonight.”
“I still feel like we displaced her from her own home.” Abby winced, even as her fingertips trailed sinuously down the length of his tightly muscled back. He gave a tiny shudder.
He smiled and kissed her before saying, “Stop it. She knows I’m crazy about you. Stop thinking about my sister, before I get icked out.” She laughed as he kissed her once more before rolling off her and standing up. “Let’s go get in a bed. Much softer.” He extended his hand down to her with a sultry smile. She placed her hand in his and let him haul her to her feet.
He yanked her against him hard and his lips crashed against hers once more. One of his hands tangled in her hair, and the other swept down her back to squeeze her ass and hold her tightly against him. She sighed into his mouth, and he felt the buzz of lust zip through him. His lips left hers to work their way down her neck, nipping at her throat.
“God, I love how you feel against me,” he whispered. His hands swept up and down her body, greedy and possessive.
“I love it too,” she whispered, her fingertips doing a similar dance along his skin.
He kissed her again, then waggled his brows with sinful purpose. “Ready for round two?”
“Already? Damn, you’re like a machine,” she said, even as she caressed the smooth planes of his chest. She felt his growing erection against her hip and grinned. “Hey, if you’re up for it. I mean, I do have a lot of lost time to make up for. . . .”
He laughed and pulled back to take her by the hand. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs and make up for lost time.”
* * *
An hour later, Pierce and Abby lay together in bed, sweaty and exhausted. He held her against his side, decimated, content, replaying moments in his head. Her fingers made lazy tracks back and forth, up and down, along his chest, his arms, tracing the lines of his tattoos . . . she felt so good in his arms. It felt quiet and right and he loved it. He kissed her forehead, listening to her breathing gradually slow. “You falling asleep?” he whispered.
“Not yet,” she whispered back. “But maybe soon. I’m like mush.”
“I should hope so. I’m wiped out. You destroyed me.”
She giggled and dropped a light kiss on his chest. “Truth? I don’t think I can move.”
“Good. Don’t.” He tipped her chin up with a fingertip, made her look into his eyes. “Stay here tonight. Stay over.”
Her brows creased as she frowned. “I don’t know. . . .”
He saw hesitation in her eyes before she looked away. A shadow of uncertainty. Everything in him wanted to quell her lingering doubts, stamp them out with steel-tipped boots.
“Stay with me, Abby,” he murmured. Her eyes stayed on his as his fingertip dragged slowly along her lips. “I want you here. In my bed, in my arms. I want to fall asleep with you, and I want to wake up with you.” He leaned in to touch his lips tenderly to hers. “In the morning, I’ll take you again, then I’ll make you breakfast . . .” Another soft, achingly gentle kiss. “Stay.”
Her stormy eyes softened, a smile lifted her lips, and she kissed him. “That sounds wonderful. All right, I will.”
“Good.” He kissed her a few more times, lazily, leisurely . . . naughtily nibbling on her lips . . . then something occurred to him. “You want to call home and let them know you’re not coming home tonight? So they won’t worry?”
“Wow.” She blinked and let out a soft huff of surprise. “I was just thinking I have to shoot my mom a text, or she’ll wait up all night.”
“I’m reading your mind already? Awesome.” He kissed her again, then sucked on her bottom lip and let it go with a playful pop. “Where’s your phone?”
“In my handbag. Which is . . . downstairs.” She groaned and curled tighter into the crook of his arm. “I don’t want to move.”
“You don’t have to.” He swept his hand over her back to squeeze her ass, then sat up and swung his legs out of bed. “I need a drink. I’ll go downstairs to get us both some water, and bring back your bag, okay?”
“Thanks. Can you bring back my clothes, too?” she asked. A faint blush bloomed on her cheeks. “Just in case Tess comes home . . . I don’t need her to see my undies on the sunroom floor. Or wherever you tossed them.”
Pierce laughed and kissed her once more before leaving the room.
As he padded along naked through the dark, quiet house, he smiled as he marveled at how good he felt. How amazing the whole night had been. How fantastic Abby was.
God help him, he was crazy about her.
Things were falling into place. He didn’t know why or how that had happened, he just knew it was happening and he was damn grateful for it. What he did know: He wanted to come back to New York permanently. To take his life and pull a total one-eighty from a few short weeks before. He even wanted to try to be a part of his family—most of it, anyway. He wanted to figure out what his next career move would be, and to build something substantial with his post-football life.
And yes, he wanted to be with Abby. She was a down-to-earth, smart, sexy woman whom he genuinely liked. Being with Abby could make the picture complete. He felt that as certainly, as profoundly, as he’d felt when he left for England all those years ago. He’d known that was right for him.
Now, something in him knew that she was right for him. He’d never even thought that way before, and it startled him. But he was in deep, and there was no point in denying it.
When he moved back to Long Island and got his life together, things were going to be different. Better. He felt it in his bones. Excitement and elation washed over him. He’d been so in flux since the scandal broke. The months of doubt and uncertainty, of his privacy invaded almost daily, of his future and his integrity under scrutiny and being questioned. Everything was changing, and he hadn’t been ready. He’d felt angry and powerless, and struggled with feeling out of control.
Since he’d taken proactive steps to change his life he was doing better now. He was starting to feel strong again, and getting stronger every day, as he walked toward his future on his terms. There were still things that needed working on. He wasn’t kidding himself about that. But he wasn’t . . . angry as much. He’d come to a place of acceptance, starting to let the wounds heal.
And he recognized that getting involved with Abby was th
e thing that had pushed him past the last of the wreckage. Between her presence, and Tess and Troy and even Dane and the kids on the soccer team, he’d been able to rediscover the qualities he possessed that had worked for him before and started to let go of what hadn’t. Leaving London and coming back to Long Island was the smartest thing he’d done in a long time.
In the dark, he found their clothes strewn all along the couch and floor, and chuckled as he scooped them all up. He found her clutch bag and grabbed that, too. The moon outside caught his eye as he moved past the windows, and he went to take a longer look. Moonlight had always soothed him. He stared out the glass wall to the expanse of grass, out to the Sound, up to the stars, pondering.
Things with Abby had changed tonight. Being with her had deepened the connection for him—sealed it with a kiss, so to speak. He wanted to make a place for her in his life, to take what they were tentatively building and maybe . . . Christ, he’d never thought like this about a woman before. It was strange, but not scary. More like exhilarating.
Blinking himself back into focus, he went to the kitchen to grab two bottles of water from the fridge. He tried to figure out exactly what it was he was feeling, but was so stupidly happy, he really couldn’t think straight. And he decided that for now, that was fine. He didn’t need labels. He just needed Abby, and to enjoy the ride. He’d make the most of their time together, show her she meant something to him and that he was trustworthy, and make sure she enjoyed the ride too. That was all that mattered at the moment.
* * *
Sunlight. Lots of it. Abby felt its warmth on her face as she slowly opened her eyes. Disoriented for a few seconds, she had no idea where she was. Then the big warm hand on her bare leg moved, she turned her head, and oh hello, she was in bed with Pierce. A soft rush of heady warmth ran through her as she stared at him.
She’d stayed the night. She’d slept in his arms. After the second round of sex, they’d cuddled together, kissing and whispering things until they fell asleep. Had she fallen asleep first? Probably. The last thing she remembered was Pierce’s warm lips at her temple and his hand sweeping slowly up and down her back as he held her.
She wasn’t in his embrace anymore, but one of his hands was on her thigh, as if even in sleep he had to touch her. That’s what he’d whispered to her last night: “I can’t seem to stop touching you. My hands are just . . . drawn to your skin, all the time.” She rolled back carefully, just enough to look him over as he slept beside her. A soft, pleased smile bloomed across her face. He was beautiful.
She let her eyes slowly travel over him, an open study of him as he lay on his back, one arm flung over his head, snoring so softly she found it cute. His dark hair was mussed, and she wanted to reach out and play with it. To run her fingers along his high cheekbones, stroke across his long, dark lashes, his slightly parted full lips, and scruffy jaw. To run her hands along his smooth chest and strong arms, and trace all his tattoos with her fingertips and her tongue, as she’d done last night. To let her fingers play leisurely along his defined abs, then trail down the thin line of dark hair that started at his navel and led down to that well-endowed package that had filled her, stretched her . . .
But she didn’t touch him at all. Still smiling to herself, she crept out of bed and checked the time on her phone. Seven A.M. Even when she didn’t have to wake up early, her body clock was locked into the teachers’ regimen. Wanting to let Pierce sleep some more, she tiptoed into the adjoining bathroom. He’d told her he always chose this guest room because it was the biggest, and the only one with its own bathroom. She longed for a shower.
She snorted softly; the guest bathroom was bigger than the biggest bathroom in her house. Marble and glass and brushed beige tile . . . gorgeous. She felt like she was in a hotel. As she brushed her teeth, standing naked in front of the mirror, she cringed at her bedhead hair. She definitely looked like someone who’d had wild sex all night. And God, had she. Color crept into her cheeks and her stomach gave a delicious twist as she recalled some of the steamier moments from the night before. Pierce had serious bedroom skills, that was for sure. It was the best sex she’d ever had. He was sensuous, seductive, torturously slow some of the time, and passionately hungry the rest of the time. His dirty talk alone had burned her up from the inside out.
Well, he’d been with a lot of women. That was one of the benefits of his experience, she supposed: He was a master.
She suddenly hoped he’d enjoyed her, too.
Self-doubt crept in as she turned on the jets and waited for the water to warm up: Had her bedroom skills measured up? She’d never thought this way before, but she had to face it: she’d just slept with a seasoned player. He’d seemed satisfied, as lost to passion and swept away as she’d been . . . but what if . . .
She shook her head hard, as if to shake out the negative, demeaning thoughts. She couldn’t go there, or she’d never stop comparing herself to countless, faceless women. And dammit, she was better than that. Either Pierce had enjoyed the sex or he hadn’t. She thought his powerful orgasms—the way he’d gripped her and roared his release—were proof enough she’d done just fine.
Stepping into the shower, she moaned out loud as the water cascaded down over her. She moved to stand right under the jets, soaking her hair through and letting the warmth beat into her shoulders. Her eyes slipped closed and she relaxed.
A large hand covered her ass. She screeched in shock and whirled around, blinking water out of her eyes. Pierce stood there, naked and smiling wickedly. “Weren’t you going to invite me to join you?”
“Jesus Christ, you scared me!” she laughed, though her heart still pounded in her chest. “I didn’t even hear you come in.” She reached out to pinch his nipple and he yelped. “You’re a bad, bad boy, Pierce Harrison.”
“Only sometimes. But you love that about me.” His voice was a low, teasing rumble. Then he smiled wider and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his hard body. “Good morning, Coach.” His mouth sealed onto hers, kissing her with long, sweet sips. Their bodies molded against each other as they sank into the embrace, tongues swirling as the water glided down over them. Moving to trail his mouth along her neck, he reached up to fondle one breast, then the other. “Last night was amazing,” he whispered in her ear, licking drops of water from her skin. “You’re amazing, Abby.”
A wave of relief and pleasure whooshed through her. “You are too.”
He grinned and kissed her again, his hands sweeping over her wet breasts, teasing her nipples into hardness. His erection pressed against her belly, demanding attention. “Abby . . .”
She reached down in between them and found him. Eyes locked, he sucked in a breath at her touch. With his skin wet, she was easily able to stroke him. His breath hitched and he groaned as his eyes closed in ecstasy, his hands never leaving her breasts.
An idea struck her, and she reached over for the body wash. Squirting some into her hand, she went back to his erection, lavishing long strokes on his shaft with the lather, hoping the slippery sensations would please him even more.
“Oh, holy fuck,” he moaned, leaning back against the tiled wall, pulling her with him. “Christ, that feels so good.”
She loved the feel of him in her hand, the hardness beneath the velvety skin. As she moved her hand faster, a raspy groan floated out of him. The jets of water hit him from the side now, flowing down over his body. His head thrown back, eyes closed, chest heaving as he panted, all of his muscles tightened as his hips rocked . . . he was the sexiest, most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. She was completely captivated, and felt a surge of power that she could make him pant and moan. And at that moment, he was hers. All hers. “I love doing this to you,” she said.
He grunted in response as his hand left her breast to tangle in her wet hair and pull her mouth to his. His kisses were hungry, consuming as she continued stroking him. The rocking of his hips was urgent as his other hand slid between her legs. “I need to be inside y
ou,” he gasped, plunging two fingers deep inside her.
Her legs almost gave out as the pleasure seared through her. She was already so wet for him, so needy. “Then take me,” she breathed.
He gave her a ravenous kiss before pulling away from her. Panting herself now, she watched as he opened the shower door, reached over to the marble counter of the sink, and snatched up a packet of shiny foil. As he tried to rip it open, it slipped between his fingers and he laughed. “My hands are too wet.” With a growl, he tore the condom open with his teeth, making Abby giggle. But as soon as he rolled it on, he grabbed her, pressed her against the wall, and hitched her leg up with a strong hand. He thrust his tongue into her mouth as he thrust his cock deep inside her.
She cried out and grasped his shoulders, holding on for the ride as the water beat down on them. Her mind went blank, lost to the incredible sensations pummeling her . . . the water cascading over her skin, his slick, tight muscles beneath her hands, the urgency of his breathing, warm in her ear as his hips thrust over and over again.
“Christ, what you do to me,” he growled against her cheek before covering her mouth with his. The swirls of his tongue matched his hard thrusts inside her, making her legs weak and her heart pound wildly. She was vaguely aware of moans, pleading sighs—God, that was her.
He reached down in between their wet, slick bodies and found her clit. Her whole body bucked as she cried out, but he held her tight, not letting up the pace of his thrusts as his fingers rubbed the most sensitive part of her. She felt the waves rising, nearing the crash, then went right over the edge, shouting his name as her body clenched and shook. She clung to him, biting his chest to silence her helpless moans, and felt his other hand tighten in her hair as he held her against him. When the last aftershocks skimmed over her and her head fell back against the tile, he kissed her mouth once and turned her around.
Even though her orgasmic haze hadn’t cleared yet, she knew what he wanted and positioned herself so he could take her from behind. He grabbed her hips and pushed his hard shaft into her, a low groan ripping from his throat as he slid deep inside. It only took a few thrusts before he came with loud grunts, moaning as his body rode out the wave.
Someone Like You Page 18
