Chapter 14 #2
"Stepsister," Abigail corrects, switching off speaker immediately while Taylor blinks in surprise.
Abigail stands and walks to the window. Taylor can’t tell what the conversation is about because she only hears Abigail’s side, but she gathers their relationship isn’t very good, or at least it’s tense, like everything seems to be in Abigail Stone’s life.
"See each other?"
Abigail says it like she’s appalled, as if meeting her stepsister were against the law. She falls silent for a few seconds, listening to whatever Erin is saying, staring at her bare feet while she massages her neck with her free hand.
"I’m not in New York right now. I’ll call you when I’m back," Abigail replies, and hangs up, just like that.
She stays there, facing the window, her shoulders so tense it looks like she’s just taken a hit.
Taylor watches her from the sofa, feeling like something has cracked in the air, and maybe inside Abigail as well.
She rises slowly and comes up behind her, pressing her breasts to the executive’s back.
She wants to ask about her stepsister but decides not to, because Abigail doesn’t move, not even when Taylor lays her hands on her arms.
"I’m sorry," Taylor whispers against the nape of Abigail’s neck. "I shouldn’t have taken your phone. I’m sorry."
Abigail still doesn’t move, feeling Taylor’s warm breath slip over her neck and her fingers pebbling the skin of her arms as they glide over them.
"I’m sorry," Taylor murmurs again, trying to calm the storm inside Abigail.
The executive whirls around and, with a quick movement, fists a hand in her hair and yanks her head back while she watches her with gray-green eyes gone dark. There’s something feral in her look that makes Taylor go wet instantly.
"Don’t speak again," Abigail orders.
And without another word, she crashes her mouth to Taylor’s, using her body to push her toward the sofa.
"Fuck, yes," Taylor murmurs against her mouth, "you have no idea how badly I want this."
"I told you not to talk," Abigail insists with a kind of growl, her fingers fighting with the button of Taylor’s shirt. "Take it off," she orders, stepping back.
Taylor obeys and smiles. Her hands tremble as she undoes the buttons.
The weight of Abigail’s piercing gaze sets her body on fire and her sex throbs with a need that’s choking her.
When she shrugs out of her shirt, Abigail does the same with hers and shoves Taylor down onto the sofa, stretching over her with a dominance that makes Taylor moan before she’s even touched her.
"I’m soaked," Taylor whispers as Abigail kisses her neck.
The executive silences her with a furious kiss while one hand slides to her back and unhooks her bra.
She yanks it off and stares at her small breasts for a heartbeat before taking one into her mouth and sucking the nipple hard.
Taylor moans and arches into her, and Abigail’s hand drifts down her belly until she finds the button of her jeans and pops it open.
"Yes, that," Taylor pants, grinding against her, desperate. "Touch me, fuck."
Abigail doesn’t understand it. Before she met Taylor, any woman who talked to her like that would have seemed rude. Now she burns when she hears it, even if she can’t help telling her to shut up. It’s the only thing she thinks about when she touches herself lately—everything Taylor whispers to her.
Taylor shoves her jeans and panties down when Abigail opens them, leaving them at her ankles so she can spread wide and give her access.
Abigail touches her, slides her hand over her, and cups her sex completely, making her burn and get even wetter.
Then she strokes between the folds while watching her closely, studying each reaction.
Abigail circles her clit and Taylor’s mouth falls open like the air is escaping her.
She pushes two fingers inside, and the singer moans and shuts her eyes, then opens them and smiles at her.
Abigail moves inside her and Taylor arches, her gaze narrowing and her lower lip trembling just a little, then Abigail presses her thumb to her clit and Taylor lets out a hoarse moan that makes Abigail lightheaded.
"Fuck, yes," Taylor murmurs, "you turn me on so much."
"Shut up," Abigail demands.
Abigail picks up the pace, relentless, like everything she does. Taylor thinks she’s going to lose her mind with pleasure. She bucks against her hand, moaning and crying out like she’s being killed, while Abigail scatters wet kisses over her breasts, her neck, and her mouth.
"I’m going to come, Abby..." she says suddenly.
Abigail tenses when she hears it. She wants to tell her not to call her that, but she realizes she does want it, that she likes how her name sounds in Taylor’s mouth when she’s about to come, almost a whisper.
"Do it," Abigail orders against her ear. "Come for me."
The words are a decree. Something bursts inside Taylor and she comes so hard her teeth sink into the executive’s shoulder.
Abigail clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut, but she doesn’t push her away or protest. She wants to feel her orgasm every way she can—her spasms around her fingers, the shocks of pain at her shoulder, the sound of her muffled moans flooding her ears—and if she draws blood, so be it.
Taylor’s body slackens and slips off her, dropping onto the sofa like she’s just fallen from the seventh floor. She trembles from head to toe and her hands are clamped tight around Abigail’s arms.
"Sorry," she pants, shaking, "about the bite."
Abigail says nothing. It stings and aches like she tore out a piece of flesh, but she doesn’t care.
She feels alive, and also dazed when she comes back to herself and realizes what they’ve done.
She lays a hand in the center of Taylor’s chest for a second and then simply turns and sits down in front of her laptop, just like at the start.
"Is that it?" Taylor asks, understanding the moment is over.
"Yes," Abigail answers curtly.
Taylor wants to ask what’s wrong with her, if she doesn’t need her, but Abigail’s mind is already somewhere else, and her unshakable coldness is back, raising a wall between them.
"Okay," Taylor murmurs, nodding.
She finds it impossible to be mad at her, even if she doesn’t understand her.
She gets up and dresses at an unhurried pace while Abigail slips on her shirt without bothering to button it.
"Well," Taylor says with a smile once she’s ready. "See you tomorrow, then."
Abigail looks up for just a moment to take in her big almond eyes.
"Yes, at nine."
"Get some rest, Abigail."
Taylor leaves, and Abigail refills her glass of wine, wakes the screen, and keeps working.