CHAPTER 19 | Abby
?CHAPTER 19
Abby
T he four of us sit on the couch racing each other in Mario Kart. I hate to admit it, but Dallas was the smart one when he decided not to drink. He has won every game so far. The only thing separating Dallas and me is the fabric of his shorts. If I wasn’t so buzzed, I think my heart would be racing right now.
He playfully nudges me with his knee as I pass him going around a turn. “Woah! Woah! Woah!” Dallas shouts as he tries to catch back up.
I hold my fingers to my forehead in an “L” position. “Loooooser,” I joke.
“Hey now, I’ve won every game so far. I think this goes the other way.”
By eleven, Logan is passed out on the couch. Rose had a friend pick her up an hour ago. I stopped drinking after what I think was the third shot around eight and chose water instead, the memory of the morning after Meredith’s birthday poking my brain rather loudly. It’s allowed me enough time to sober up so I’m not waking up hungover for Sam’s dreaded return tomorrow. Dallas and I have shifted to the kitchen counter to play a game of war. We sit next to each other on bar stools. At least with this game, I don’t have to think about it very hard. Normally, I’d be ready to get black-out drunk so I have a reason to momentarily forget about life. Tonight, the desire to remember it is far stronger. The thought scares me a little, but I’m doing my best to welcome it.
“So, have you enjoyed your birthday?” Dallas asks, shuffling the deck.
“Very much so. I needed this. Thank you, Dallas. I truly appreciate it. You have no idea.” I rest my head on his shoulder for a brief second before laying down a card. “Ha!” I say, grabbing the two cards on the counter.
“You realize this game requires zero skill, right?” He laughs and lays down another card. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. It’s nice seeing you so happy.”
“It’s nice to feel it. It’s been a while.” I lay another card down and thinking I won, I slap my hand down on it before it connects in my brain that it’s Dallas’s win. His hand lands on mine but neither of us pulls away. I can feel his eyes on me a moment until I slip my hand out from under his.
I laugh a little to play off the stiff tension in the air. “Uh, that’s yours. My bad.”
He lets out a single laugh before picking up his winning cards and laying another down. I glance at him before laying my own card down and his gaze is intently on mine. I lower my eyes to the cards. His win again.
But he doesn’t move to take the cards. I don’t look up from my hand, but I can still feel his eyes on me, his breath growing heavier as it clings to the friction in the air.
He takes a deep breath, and I watch his legs shift beneath him ever so slightly. The cards in his hand lower until they rest on the counter. He shifts that same hand to my knee, spinning the barstool so we face each other. Finally, I let myself look up. His gaze is fierce, the intent clear in his eyes.
Does he know how much power he holds when he looks at me like that?
His jaw clenches as if he’s trying to hold back from saying something. Or doing something. His hands do the same. It takes everything in me to keep my eyes off his body. I can’t help but let my eyes wander. Each muscle, each vein, and each minuscule movement gives my eyes something else to focus on. As I pretend to ignore his stare, his hand makes its way up my thigh. The touch of his hand on me like this makes my skin buzz. He squeezes hard, but not enough to hurt. A strong breath leaves his lungs, as does one from mine. His jaw clenches again and I lick my lips, imagining what his mouth might taste like. That seems to be enough of a “yes” from me for him to make a move.
He leans in slowly, a hand now on each bare thigh, and his nose brushes mine before a light touch of his lips on mine sends fireworks through my body. Our lips press gently together, but he pulls away slowly. I wrap my fingers around his biceps, pulling, begging for more.
In one fell swoop, he picks me up, gripping my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my feet behind his back. Logan stirs on the couch but doesn’t wake. For a moment, neither of us moves. We watch each other’s eyes, dancing in the dim LED lights of the kitchen. And when Logan doesn’t stir again, Dallas carries me to his room, closing the door behind us with a swift kick, our eyes still locked on each other. He raises his brows as if asking for permission.
I nod slightly before I cover his mouth with mine. Our lips touch with a fury unknown to me. The soft skin of his combined with mine is harsh, yet so delicate. It’s a quick rainstorm with a rainbow after, like he’s worried if he doesn’t taste all of me now, he might never taste me again. I’ve never known as gentle a kiss as this that has so much passion behind it. Our lips move as one with each other. His tongue traces the roof of my mouth before he lightly bites my lower lip. I let out a short sharp yelp that makes him smile against my lips.
The tender caress of his hand slips under my shirt and moves up the length of my spine as he slowly lowers me onto his bed. I sit myself up not wanting to break from his lips, a hand entwined in his hair, the other grabbing a fist full of his shirt. He parts from me, letting the cold air hit my lips as he almost rips his shirt off.
I’ve never let myself stare at his chest or tattoos long, not wanting to draw too much attention to my secret desire to devour every inch of him. I kneel on the bed, tracing a finger down his body, and then to each of his tattoos. He shudders with the touch. The name Cole is inked into his skin across his heart in sharp calligraphy. A cascade of geometric shapes crosses the span of his chest down his right shoulder just enough that it peeked out from under his shirt a moment ago.
“Your brother?” I ask, tracing each letter. He nods, watching my hands carefully. I pull at that shoulder; a gentle ask that he turn around. He pivots slowly, touching his chin to his shoulder. A skull decorates the middle of his back with swirls of smoke encasing it. The back of his bicep depicts four triangles. The third one is filled in. “What’s this one?” I ask, touching each triangle. I place soft kisses down the back of his neck. He shivers at the touch.
“Me and my three siblings,” he breathes, head hanging forward. His fists clench tight, likely trying to keep his hands to himself.
“Three?” I slide my arms through to wrap them around, gripping his shoulders, now kissing down his spine.
He nods. “I’ll tell you later,” he says spinning slowly back to face me.
I bring my hand down his tense, toned arms, weaving my fingers into his calloused hands.
A heavy breath leaves his chest as he lowers his forehead to meet mine. His eyes close softly, his jawline tense with each breath.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, sinking to my heels.
“Do you want this?” he asks sternly.
I nod. “Yes.” But he doesn’t move forward. He traces a thumb over my lower lip, drawing out the motion before he takes my mouth in his. His hands rove gently over my body, taking his time focusing on each curve of my hips as he moves to the hem of my shirt. He pauses, our lips never parting. When I move my hand to his and lift, his hand explores the curve of my waist, moving up my torso to my ribcage. I shudder with the light touch. A hand grabs the fabric of my shirt, quickly pulling it over my head. My bra remains, keeping the delicate skin of my breasts secure from his probing hands though I almost wish I hadn’t worn one. I move my hands to my back to release the clasp of my bra, but his hands cover mine with a strong grip. He lowers me to the bed, intertwining our fingers, slowly moving them over my head.
“Keep them here. Don’t move.” An intensity in his voice stills me instantly though it’s not out of fear as it has been with Sam. I stay still out of need, want, and complete desire for him.
His hands remain entwined in mine. He kisses my forehead, then my cheek, behind my ear, and finally traces kisses down the length of my chest until he reaches my belly ring. He brings the jewelry into his mouth, sucking the length of the dangling gem, my eyes watching him carefully. He raises his eyes back up to meet mine. The deep brown hues are now dark as he gazes up the length of my body. He drags his tongue from my belly all the way up my neck. He gently kisses the small, almost dissolved bruise on my cheek.
He covers my mouth with his, and the taste of his drink from earlier is still evident on his tongue. The caramelized flavor of his mixing with the fruity flavors of mine makes for an eccentric blend. His lips are soft. They move melodically with mine as if this isn’t the first time we’re exploring each other. He parts for a breath and looks into my eyes as if trying to read my thoughts.
I breathe deeply, thankful I chose to sober up, so I’ll fully remember this moment. I risk moving my hands to the side of his face, holding it lightly. His own hands move to either side of my torso. He moves a leg between my thighs encouraging me to part my legs, his other leg kneeling on the outside of my left thigh. His intense stare strangely calms me.
My mind flashes with thoughts of why I should not be doing this right now, not with him, but I can’t help myself. I want to do this. I want him . Need him. In every way.
I can’t help but wonder if this is a regular thing for him. Fucking whoever is willing. I’ve never seen or heard him bring anyone back here since I moved in. But for what? For me? Those prodding eyes say no. Those prodding eyes are hungry. Fed by desire.
I pull his forehead to mine, close my eyes, and breathe in his scent: Old Spice fused with the linen scent of his detergent. It’s not exactly the deep manly scent I find in the hoard of books in my room, but this is so much more my speed.
He kisses the length of my chin once more before releasing the bra. As the fabric now sits loose on my chest, he whips it to the floor, taking a moment to gape at my exposed breasts. “God, Abby, you are stunning,” he says, breathlessly.
I draw in a sharp breath as his mouth takes in my right nipple while he palms the other. He’s delicate, moving his tongue in light circles. Two fingers prod the other. His mouth and hand swap places, repeating the motions. It sends my back into a tight arch. He grips my hips, pinning me to the bed.
When he decides to move on from them, though I know it’s only temporary, he gazes up at me, pushing to his knees. The bulge in his shorts makes it clear what he’s hiding. I move to the button, letting it pop open. The zipper falls easily. His dick pushes out from his boxer briefs as he drops them both on the floor. He reaches for the hem of my shorts and thong and pulls them to my feet, dropping them next to his.
He climbs back on top, straddling my hips. His erection stands tall above me. He lowers himself, bracing his weight on his elbows, and nestles his head into my shoulder, peppering delicate kisses on my neck.
My arms wrap around his shoulders, tangling my fingers in his hair. I wrap a leg around his hip encouraging him to close the gap between us.
I move a hand to his dick and after a few strokes move the length of him to my entrance but he pauses all movement. He lifts his head, gazing at my begging eyes. “Sorry, you’re not—”
“No,” I quickly cut him off, knowing what he was about to ask. I chuckle. “No. I’m not a virgin. And I’m on the pill,” I add, knowing his next question.
He takes a deep breath as if he’s relieved. “Okay,” he replies, returning my smile, but he doesn’t continue.
“Just fuck me already,” I say pressing my hips to his.
He raises his brows, astonished at my outburst, but he shakes his head and laughs. "With pleasure."
He grabs my wrists and places them above my head again. He keeps one of his locked against mine. His free hand grasps my boob before he slowly inserts himself. A thrust for each kiss. Slow and delicate at first, but he quickly picks up speed. A moan sounds from my chest, and I can feel him smile against my lips. I tightly grip his hand that holds mine.
It's terrifying how fast one man can make your heart harden. But it’s amazing how fast another man can soften it. Repair it. Start putting the pieces back together.
He releases my hands from above my head, slowly dragging a finger down the length of my body, pausing at my clit. His callused hand blends with the delicate soft skin, working in slow calculated circles. My heart spurs with each motion. Our heavy breathing mixes in the air between us. I moan as I grow closer to my climax and rake my fingers across his back. He thrusts hard and fast, his hand mimicking the motions. Every muscle in my core clenches as I reach a peak like pure ecstasy. A low moan sounds from Dallas’s chest as he spills into me shortly after. He thrusts slowly, letting me come down from my high. When he stops, he lowers himself to rest next to me, placing a kiss on my forehead on the way.
Once my breathing slows, I turn on my side to my head on his shoulder. He pulls the covers over us when I start to shiver a little. He rubs my arm as we let our breathing relax. When he turns to me, the look in his eyes is pure bliss. I smile and kiss his cheek. He pulls me closer, giving me a deeper, more intimate kiss, savoring every bit of it.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” His voice is almost a whisper.
I watch him for a moment before replying. “Me, too.”
He turns back to look at me. A bit of shock blankets his expression. He’s smiling. I shrug, nuzzling my head into his neck, fully relaxing, enjoying the places our skin remains touching. I allow myself to relish this joy and satisfaction. My mind feels free, my body serene.