Chapter 22 Date night
Date night
Abby took a deep breath and smoothed a hand down the skirt of her red dress. Releasing the breath quickly, she grabbed her clutch from the dresser and left her room before she could second-guess her choice.
“Mommy, you look beautiful,” Will said from his spot on the couch.
Abby smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.” She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “You’re going to be good for Maw Maw tonight, right?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“And you’re going to listen and go to bed without a fight?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“I love you.”
He rose on his knees to plant a wet kiss on her cheek and hug her. “Love you too.” He flopped back down and pulled his fuzzy blanket over him, already focused back on the Disney Channel.
Abby found her mom in the kitchen. “Hey. Olivia’s in her room. She’s video chatting with Sierra on my tablet.”
“Okay.” Her mom turned from the sink, and she looked Abby up and down, eyebrows raised. “Wow. Are you going to be home tonight?”
“Yes. Just maybe…don’t wait up.”
Her mom turned back to the sink. “Mm-hmm. Text me if you plan on spending the night.”
“That’s not the plan,” Abby said firmly.
Her mom shut off the water and turned while drying her hands on a dish towel. “Are you wearing matching underwear?”
Abby opened and closed her mouth. “Yes.”
A sly grin spread across her mother’s face. “I’ll just assume you’re spending the night.”
“Mother.”
Her phone dinged and she pulled it from the clutch.
Tink: Hey. I’m running late from the job I was working. Can you meet me at my place?
Abby: Sure. No problem.
A text bubble popped up with an address in North Charleston.
Tink: Park in the back. There’re stairs up to the apartment.
“Tinker is running late, so I’m going to meet him at his place.”
“Okay. You should take a change of clothes, just in case,” her mom said.
Abby rolled her eyes. “Mom, just because you got some recently doesn’t mean the rest of us need to jump in bed with a man.”
Sue waved her hand and left the kitchen. “Oh, don’t be so judgmental. And you’re right. You don’t need to jump into bed with a man.”
“Thank you.”
“Can I suggest a catapult?” her mom asked.
“Mother! I’m leaving.” She grabbed her keys from beside the door and left.
She and Tinker would get there eventually and, yes, she was wearing the dress, but that didn’t mean she was going to fall into bed with him on their second official date, much less spend the night.
She tried to ignore the little voice in her head calling her a hypocritical prude.
At least her mother had the decency to find a room with a lock and didn’t get fingered in the middle of a game of hide-and-seek.
Really, what did it matter at that point?
Having actual sex with him was semantics.
Part of him had been in her. They’d done a sexual act.
Arguing with herself that it didn’t count was ridiculous.
She needed to get over her internal hang-ups and admit she wanted to have sex with Tinker. Damn what anyone else thought.
Although everyone she knew thought she should be hopping into bed with him. Even her own mother.
And after last night… He’d held her, let her cry, and hadn’t pushed to make her share everything or even make it better.
And he’d apologized and admitted he’d been wrong.
And done it again that morning when he’d called and asked her to dinner that night.
That was honestly sexier than seeing him in the tight black T-shirts he liked to wear.
Her GPS announced she’d arrived at her destination. She glanced at the two-story garage with Charleston Choppers painted across the front and drove around to the back of the building. It was technically in downtown Charleston, but on the north edge of the area, not in the bougie section of town.
Picking her way across the gravel to the stairs, she climbed up to the surprisingly large landing and knocked on the door.
And waited. She glanced around at the surrounding darkness.
If there were any buildings behind them, they were completely dark.
She knocked again and, after counting to ten, pulled her phone from her purse and called Tinker.
He answered on the fifth ring. “Hey. You close?”
“I’m here. I just knocked.”
“Shit. Okay. Hang on a sec.” The line went dead.
The lock clicked as it turned and the door opened, but she couldn’t see Tinker. She stepped into an open, loft-style living room, dining room, and kitchen. The door closed behind her, revealing Tinker in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.
Her breath hitched at the sight of him, and warmth flashed through her as his gaze dragged up and down her body.
“Damn.” He locked the door and crowded her against it. His mouth on hers was as demanding as always, and they were both panting when he finally pulled back. “Damn. I need to jump in the shower. Make yourself comfortable—I just need fifteen minutes.”
He spun and headed across the space to a door on the opposite side. Abby watched the muscles of his back bunch and move as he ran a hand through his hair. She stared at the door he’d disappeared through and thought about what her mother had said.
Why couldn’t she jump into bed with him? Her internal judgment? Societal pressure to be a good girl? Screw that. What had being a good girl done for her? An ex-husband and single motherhood. She tossed her purse onto the dark leather couch and followed him.
A large bed took up most of the room. Simple bedside lamps lit the room. The shower shut off and kicked her heart into marathon speeds. If she was going to do this, she couldn’t be subtle. Go big or go home.
She slipped off her shoes and took the dress off, laying it over a chair in the corner. She sat at the edge of the bed facing the door to the bathroom and waited. It took only a few moments for her anxiety to kick in. What was she doing? The door opened and she froze.
So did Tinker, a towel wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from his head and trailed down his chest, following the sparse hair on his chest and center of his stomach.
He ran a hand over his mouth. “Abby.” His voice was guttural. “What are you doing?”
“I thought we could stay in instead of going out.”
“You need to be really sure about this.”
She didn’t know where she found the courage, but she held his fiery gaze. “I’m sure.”
He ate up the space between them in two steps and knelt beside the bed, grabbing her hips and pulling her to the edge of the bed. The sudden movement caused her to fall back. Her eyes widened as he put his hot mouth over her pussy and rubbed his tongue against her through her underwear.
“Christian!” She grabbed his head.
He pulled back but stayed between her legs. “I’m sorry. I should have worked up to that, but I’ve thought of you in my bed like this and it seemed too good to be true.”
“It’s okay. It’s just…I haven’t had a lot of…um…” She gestured vaguely. She shouldn’t talk about having sex with other guys while she was getting ready to have sex with this guy. Right?
“You haven’t had a lot of oral sex?”
She cleared her throat. “No.”
“Your ex didn’t…?”
Abby stared at the blades of the ceiling fan over her head. “He wasn’t a fan. It always felt like he was doing it as a chore—reluctantly and under duress.”
She sucked in a breath when his tongue pressed and wriggled against her folds, finding her clit through the thin fabric of her underwear.
“Believe me, this isn’t a chore and I’m definitely not under duress. I want you to come all over my face. I want you begging me to stop because you don’t think you can take any more right until you come all over me again.”
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
“Sound like a plan?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said with a gasp. “Yes, that sounds like a really good plan.”
“Good.”
Damn, his tongue was magic. He rubbed and sucked and pushed through her underwear and quickly drove her to an orgasm. She didn’t even have time to think about it—it was just there, pulling her into its powerful wave. He finally pulled her soaked panties down her legs.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
Abby shifted to move up the bed, to give him room to join her, but he put a hand on her belly and pressed her back down.
“Not yet.” He pushed her thighs apart, spreading her wide.
She was fully exposed to him and wasn’t sure how she felt. Definitely uncomfortable and out of her element. “Christian?”
He glanced up at her. “Shhh.” He held her gaze as he spread her even more with his thumbs and slowly lowered his mouth to her again. His thick tongue languidly traced around her opening, then stroked up one side and down the other.
She dropped her head back to the bed and tried to remember how to breathe. It was a struggle. All her brain function had diverted to concentrating on the path of his tongue, on where it would go next. Would he lick, trace, suck, flick? There didn’t seem to be a pattern.
She didn’t know if it was the remnants of the first orgasm or another one, but the throbbing, electric feeling started to build again.
Slower this time, potentially more powerful, all at the mercy of his tongue.
She grabbed his wrists, still holding her thighs wide—she needed something to hold on to.
Something to anchor her to the here and now.
If she didn’t, she might burst into tiny atoms.
The second orgasm crashed into her with the force of a freight train.
Her back arched and her legs strained against Tinker’s strong grasp.
Operating on primal instinct, she rolled her hips with the waves coursing through her until they dissipated enough to let her slowly, slowly begin releasing her muscles.
Tinker kissed his way up her stomach to her neck. He slid an arm under the small of her back and lifted her up the bed. She tried to help, but she had no strength in her arms—not even enough to hold herself upright. He unhooked her bra and pulled the straps down her arms.
He plumped one breast and sucked hard on the nipple.
Sizzles shot out from his hot mouth, and Abby tried to concentrate on that instead of worrying about how her other breast sagged to the side.
She used her arm to press against the side of her breast and lift it up under the pretense of running her hand over his head.
Not that she didn’t want to touch him. Two birds, one stone, and all of that.
“Stop that, Abby,” he said against her skin.
“Stop what?”
“You’re getting into your head.”
“What? I’m not,” she protested.
“You’ve been trying to shield your body from me since I got you fully naked.”
She licked her lips. “I’m feeling very exposed.”
Tinker stared at her, his expression enigmatic. “Will you trust me?”
“I— With what?”
“With you. With your body.” He ran one hand softly down her body from shoulder to hip and back up again, never breaking eye contact.
She was there, wasn’t she? “Yes,” she whispered.