17. Rex
SEVENTEEN
REX
I spent my morning inspecting a commercial building for fire hazards. As I checked outlets, proper safety signage, and fire extinguisher expiration dates, I couldn’t stop thinking about Abigail. The way she tasted. The soft weight of her asleep in my arms. The moment of bliss on her face when she took a sip of her coffee. I felt like I could spend every waking minute with her and not get bored.
On my break, I went to Abigail’s website and found the information for her open house on Baker. After all, I was in the market for a new place. The photos looked nice. Why not check out the great house that hadn’t sold yet? Abigail being there was just a bonus.
At least, that’s what I told myself—and what I would’ve told Gabe if he happened to pop out of the bushes and ask me what the hell I was doing.
I shoved all thoughts of Gabe aside. Sure, he’d been pretty clear about me staying away from his sister. But this was different. I wasn’t just chasing after her like guys used to do in high school. I wasn’t looking for a conquest.
The paperwork in front of me turned to a jumbled mess, and I stared at nothing, wondering what the hell I was doing.
Fooling around with Abigail wasn’t supposed to happen. It would blow up my oldest and dearest friendship…but how could I stay away from her? How could I see the shape of the walls she’d built around herself and not want to tear them down? How could I get a taste of her and not crave more?
And there was the way she’d softened for me in bed last night. And how touched she’d seemed about a simple breakfast this morning. She’d kissed me goodbye like she was going to miss me this morning.
If there was something real between us…wasn’t it worth exploring?
It was for me.
When I ended my shift after five, I headed over to see Abigail and pulled up outside a roomy cottage on Baker Street. Though the house was nearly empty, there was something welcoming about it. The oak floors were dressed in my favorite stain, the paint on the walls was warm, and the rounded stone surrounding the fireplace went all the way up to the high ceiling. Hmm, not bad for a house that hadn’t sold. It needed some work—the cornices were cracked, and some of the fixtures needed to be replaced, but it wasn’t bad at all.
“Hello!” I heard Abigail’s voice, followed by her heels clacking along the floor.
“Am I too late?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked with a big smile—the same one she made earlier when I made her breakfast. The kind of smile that made me want to betray my oldest friendship just for one more glimpse of it.
Though my heart beat hard at the sight of her, I shrugged and glanced around at the floors and window sashes and light fixtures. “Oh, you know. You said this was a great house, and I figured since I’m in the market and I know that agent…”
Her smile turned a little wry. I hadn’t seen that one before, and I discovered I liked it. It was a smile that said we had a little secret, just the two of us. And I didn’t mind the way that felt at all.
“I was just about to close up. But would you like a private tour?”
“I’d love one.”
“Then follow me, Mr. Montgomery.” She waved me along. I’d seen her leave this morning, so I’d seen the beige skirt-and-blazer combo, but Abigail had since removed the blazer to reveal a slightly sheer blouse in a similar shade. Her shoes were a shiny version of the same color, and her ears were adorned with gold. Her hair was down, dark blond and shiny. She looked professional and put-together…and unbelievably sexy.
“I think you’ll find the kitchen to your liking. Lots of countertop space.” Abigail put on her sales act, running her hand across the cool stone counter the way she’d run it over my chest last night.
I forced myself to take my eyes off the woman and look at the room. “How many bedrooms?”
“Three,” she said. “Three roomy bedrooms. ”
I nodded. “One for me. One for you. And one for Winston.”
Her eyes glimmered. She took a step toward me and tilted her head. “You want to be roomies or something?”
I shrugged. “So far it seems to be working out pretty well.”
Her smile grew and she continued on, showing me the dining room and screened-in porch. She guided me upstairs to the main bedroom, staged with a king-sized bed. I stood in front of it. “You know, after sleeping on your full, I think you’re right. This is too big.”
She swatted my shoulder, laughing. But I was only half joking. There were definitely advantages to sleeping in a small bed with a beautiful woman.
“Do you know how many smoke alarms it has?” I asked.
“Two downstairs, one upstairs, I believe.”
“Ooh, there should be one in every bedroom,” I said.
She turned around, batted her lashes with that you-know-you-want-this-house look. “If you make a full-price offer right now, I’ll be sure to have the seller get those installed before closing.”
I wandered to the en-suite bathroom and looked at the slightly outdated stone vanity with two beige sinks. Easily replaced.
Abigail followed me, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “What’s the real reason you’re here, Rex?”
“You don’t think I’m serious about the house?”
“I’m not sure what you’re serious about,” she replied. The setting sun streamed in from a big window over the bath, gilding the planes of her face and glinting on her earrings and necklace.
“You look beautiful,” I said, not able to help myself.
Abigail flushed slightly, shaking her head to dismiss the compliment.
“You don’t agree?”
“There’s no one here, Rex. We don’t have to pretend.”
“You weren’t pretending last night.”
Her flush deepened as her tongue slid out to moisten her lips. “No,” she admitted. “I wasn’t.”
“You look like you want to ask me something. If you’re going to question whether or not I was faking it, I’m going to stop you right there.”
She huffed. “It’s not that.”
“So what is it?”
“Well, last night, I could brush off as us getting carried away. But then breakfast this morning, and now you’re here… What’s going on, Rex?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? But answering it was harder than it seemed. What was going on was that I was attracted to Abigail in a way that had caught me completely by surprise. It was like an unquenchable thirst. Every little taste of her only made me want more. And every time I thought of all the reasons we shouldn’t, she’d show me another side of her that made all my hesitations disappear.
I wanted Abigail because she was smart and funny and sexy. But she also scratched something inside me, an itch that begged me to take care of someone else just because I could. Abigail was unbelievably independent. She lived alone, worked alone, and made sure that everyone knew she wouldn’t take shit from anyone. She’d spend a night in jail to defend her friends when she thought they’d been slighted.
But beneath the tough-girl facade was a woman who wiggled happily in her seat when someone cooked for her. A woman who fought to let go until she had no choice but to scream her pleasure. A woman who appreciated the little things instead of expecting them.
It would be a joy to spoil her for the rest of my days.
I reached for her arm and slid my hand along the soft fabric of her blouse, all the way down to the pearl button holding the cuff closed. I thumbed the button, wrapping my fingers around the fine bones of her wrist, wondering how it was possible for someone to get under my skin as quickly as Abigail had.
“What’s going on is that I’ve been running on the fumes of that goodbye kiss for eight hours,” I said, tugging her closer. “Need something to keep me going.”
She laughed, eyes sparkling, and hooked her free arm around my neck. “Is that right? And the fact that I’m at work doesn’t bother you?”
I nudged her nose with mine. “Not even a little bit.”
“Anyone could walk in.”
“We’d hear them.”
“I could lose my license.”
I tilted my head back as my hands found their way to her waist. She fit against me like we were made for each other. “Have I finally found a challenge that Abigail Stone won’t face?”
“You’re some kind of arrogant if you think fooling around with you in one of my clients’ houses is a line I’ll cross for you.”
Delighted, I laughed. “I’m discovering all kinds of fascinating things about you, Abigail.” My hands slid down to her ass, squeezing gently.
Slightly breathless, she asked, “Like what? ”
“Like the fact that you enjoy following rules, after all.” I nudged her nose again, brushing my lips against the corner of her mouth before pulling away.
Her eyes turned flinty. “You’re a tease, Rex Montgomery. I think you came all the way here just to rile me up.”
“Among other things,” I said, and I crushed my lips to hers. I hadn’t made up how good she tasted this morning; her kiss really was the sustenance I needed to keep going. My lips found her jaw, then I had to trace the line of her pulse down her neck.
I loved the way Abigail softened against me. Loved the breathless little moans that slipped through her lips like she couldn’t help herself.
“Rex,” she said, fingernails digging into my shoulders. “I can’t have sex with you here. The owners moved out so we could stage it, but I just can’t do it.”
“Fine,” I said, inhaling the scent of her as I kissed the place where her shoulder met her neck.
“Good,” she replied, leaning her head back to give more access. “That’s good.”
“Mm,” I agreed, burying a hand into her hair. I tugged, enjoying the breathless gasp Abigail let slip, and then I had to taste her lips again.
Her hands slid from my shoulders over my chest, all the way down to my belt. She slid her palm against my cock, and I rocked my hips forward into her touch.
“Thought you couldn’t have sex with me here.”
“You’re hard,” she said, eyes dazed.
“That surprises you?”
She laughed. “Kind of, yeah.”
I clicked my tongue, then kicked her legs as wide as her pencil skirt would allow. Then I rucked it up so I could reach between her legs, where her panties were hot and wet.
“Since you apparently like following the rules so much, let’s make some new ones,” I said against the skin of her neck.
“Rex,” Abigail keened, her hips rocking against my touch.
“Rule number one. You spread your legs for me.”
Abigail’s hands dropped to the edge of the counter, and she gripped it hard as she widened her knees.
“Good girl,” I groaned, tugging the thin barrier of her panties aside.
She let out a shuddering breath as my fingers slid through her slickness, eyes half-lidded and dazed.
I felt drunk. Or high. Or whatever the hell people felt when they made decisions they knew would blow up in their faces later.
“Rule number two,” I heard myself say. “You come when I tell you.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right, okay.”
I pulled back and smacked her clit with my hand. Abigail jerked, her breaths coming faster, then said, “Oh. Right .”
I huffed a laugh, fingers finding her core again, sliding down to the opening I couldn’t wait to fill. She was wet and hot and slick, and no one had ever felt this fucking good in my entire life.
Sliding a finger where I wanted to be, I watched Abigail’s head fall back. Her knees crept inward, so I nudged her heel with my work boot. “Rule number one.”
Abigail shuffled her legs wider, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “This is so wrong,” she whispered.
“Which part?” I added another finger, marveling at the way she clenched around me.
“The part where you have your fingers inside me right now, Rex.”
I grinned. “You want me to stop?” I pulled my fingers out and rested my hand against her, feeling the bunched-up panties against my thumb and the slick heat of her against my palm. I rubbed where I knew it would feel good, right at the apex that had made her scream her pleasure last night.
Abigail whimpered. “Rex.”
“Yes, beautiful?”
“Stop teasing me. You’re not supposed to be like this.”
“Like what?”
“Hot! You’re not supposed to be attractive at all. You’re supposed to be my brother’s Boy Scout best friend.” Her eyes flashed.
And her legs stayed spread.
A fine trembling went through her limbs, and I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. I found her clit with my fingers and rubbed it until I saw her lips part, until I knew the exact spot that made whimpers and moans slip through her lips.
When her hand came up to grip my biceps, I slid my free hand over her jaw and kissed her. She bit my lower lip and pulled me closer, rough and angry and entirely Abigail. I was so hard I could hardly think straight.
“Come, Abigail,” I said against her lips, pinning her to the counter and willing my hand not to cramp between us. “Say my name when you do.”
“Rex,” she panted. “Rex, Rex, Rex! ”
Her fingernails tore at my shirt. Her legs shook, and a soft cry escaped her as she reached her peak. I pulled back so I could watch her face, the dazed, disbelieving look in her eyes, the pretty pink flush on her cheeks, the damp, swollen rosebud of her lips.
Her chest heaved as she caught her breath, and my own head swam as she clawed at me to pull me closer. Our kiss was a clumsy, trembling thing. When we pulled apart, I knew one thing: This woman would ruin me.