Page 35

“I’m sorry, Skip.” I come around the bar slowly, holding my hands out. Too late, I realize they still have blood on them. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She shakes her head, her cornflower-blue eyes wide. “You didn’t frighten me.” She smiles shakily. “If I’m honest, that was the best thing I’ve seen in a long time.” She drops her eyes, then peeks up at me from beneath her lashes. “Not to mention by far the hottest.”

Relief floods through me.

“The hottest, huh?” I come closer, eyeing her speculatively. “Maybe I’ll start making a habit of it, then.”

Abby shakes her head. “Asshole,” she says, but the word is more of a caress than it is an insult. She takes my hands. “Let me wash these,” she says softly. She turns to face the sink, so I’m standing behind her, and draws my arms around her so she can place my hands under running water. She pushes some soap onto her own, then slowly slides her fingers between mine, holding my eyes in the mirror as she gently works them back and forth.

Suddenly, I’m hard enough to crack steel.

The soft globes of her ass are pressed hard against my cock. Her nipples in the mirror are hard as pebbles, and I know if I rip her T-shirt off, the light coral buds will alreadybe darkening, ready for my mouth. Her fingers slipping between mine are slick as her pussy when she gets wet, and by the way her ass is poking back toward me, I’m pretty sure she’s already there.

I kiss her neck just above the hem of her shirt, and she moans, her eyes fluttering closed and her head coming back on my shoulder.

“We need to get out of here,” I murmur, kissing my way up her neck. “We’re certainly not giving that Pete fucker a free show.”

Abby’s giggle turns into a gasp as I slip one soap-covered hand up beneath her T-shirt and stroke my thumb over her nipple. “Christ, I love these.” I switch to the other breast and she sighs, reaching behind my neck and arching her back so her breasts push into my hands, her ass grinding deliciously against my cock.

“I mean it, Skip.” I slide my hands down to her hips. “We need to get out of here and into a bed.”

She pulls away from me with a groan of annoyance. “I just need to lock up first.”

“No, you don’t.” Taking her hand, I lead her toward the door. “Fuck Revolting Pete and his café. It can get robbed of the wall hangings for all I care.”

Abby gives a shaky laugh. “Easy for you to say, Range Rover man.” She nods at my black vehicle with dark tinted windows parked outside on the curb. “Some of us still have to actually work.”

“So you’ll pick up more shifts at Pillars.” I lead her outside and open the door, letting my hand trail down her bare thigh as I settle her inside. I leave the café door wide open and all the lights on, because fuck Revolting Pete and his wandering fucking hands.

“I thought you didn’t like me working at Pillars,” she saysas I climb in and start the engine, pulling into the late-night traffic.

“I don’t.” I reach over and slide my hand between her thighs, my cock pounding as she moans slightly, parting her legs for me. “But Nikolai knows you and I are dating, which means he’ll see to it that nobody in Pillars dares lay a finger on you. And given how useless his staff are, you’ll have as many shifts as you can handle.” I move my hand up, twisting the button on her shorts. “I want these off.”

“Are you sure?” Abby spreads her legs wider.

“About wanting these shorts off?” I slide a finger beneath the leg of her shorts, my cock almost breaking my trousers when I feel how wet she is. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

She gives a giggle that turns into a sigh as my fingers explore beneath the shorts.

“I mean about Pillars,” she says, her voice squeaking slightly as my finger finds her clit, which is so swollen I just want my mouth on it. “Because I’m going to need to work as many shifts as Nikolai can give me if I’m not going back to Pete’s.”

“I’m sure I want these fucking things off.” I tug impatiently at her shorts. “And you’re never going back to Pete’s. I’ve told you a hundred times you don’t need to work. I’m more than happy to support you.”

“And I’ve told you a hundred times that isn’t an option. I need to work, to pay for my art supplies and classes.” Abby grasps my hand, slowly trailing it up over her breasts, toward her mouth. “Working at Pillars will mean a lot of late nights. But on the upside,” she murmurs, slipping one of my fingers between her lips, “it also means lots of lazy siestas.” Eyeing me slyly, she rolls her tongue around my finger, sliding it in and out of her mouth.

“Fuck.” My cock is pounding like a bastard. “Keep that up and we won’t even make it to your place.”

“I guaranteeyouwon’t.” Her hand drops to my crotch and opens the buttons of my trousers.

“Not fair, Skip,” I say as she wraps her hand around me, although my voice isn’t entirely steady. “You’ve still got your shorts on.”

“Oh, I can take them off.” Abby pulls back and leans against the door, a wicked light in her eyes. “But what would you prefer?” Sliding the zipper of her shorts down, she wriggles out of them, taking her underwear at the same time. “My mouth on your cock,” she says huskily, “or your finger doing this?”

I glance sideways, my cock leaping as she slowly spreads her thighs, her eyes never leaving mine as she reaches for my hand again.

“Oh, Jesus,” I mutter as she slides my finger down one side of her slick folds, then up the other. My thumb finds her clit, and she makes a small noise, her hips rising off the seat to meet me. Hitching herself up to her knees, splaying them wide, she stares down at my pulsing cock, licking her lips as my hand cups her dripping folds.

“I’d like to think I can manage both,” she says, gasping as I slip my finger inside her. “But I want to come with you inside me, and I don’t think even you could manage to fuck me in the middle of traffic.”