Authors: Virginia Nelson
Which meant he still had something to prove.
His fingers glided across her neck, kissing his way up her neck from her collarbone to the delicate shell of her ear. “That means we should take this slow, sweetheart, not that we should put it in fifth gear and blaze into the night.”
“Fuck careful, fuck slow and fuck waiting, Braxton Dean. Do you want me?”
She caught his dick in her hand, rubbing it in one long stroke from base to tip through his jeans. Pleasure shot from the pressure of her hand to the roots of his hair and down to his toes.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Abs, I told you that. I want you.”
“Then show me all the things you said you wanted to do to me in those letters.”
His hands streaked across her flesh, ridding her of garments she wasn’t going to need for a while. Laying her out in the soft grass, he saw her naked for the first time in years and, not for the first time, found her more beautiful and desirable than any other girl in history.
Her hands tried for his clothes but he deflected them easily, instead spreading her so he could delve into the moist flower begging for his kiss. He would give her what she wanted, but he would do it the way he dreamed of doing it. There would be no rushing him, not this time.
When his tongue flicked her clit, her hips bucked and her soft cry rippled out across the pond. He smiled then, and slid his fingers inside her. “You’re hot and wet for me, my Abby.”
She whispered his name as he caught the hard nub between his teeth and sucked it, flicking faster with his tongue, matching the rhythm with his fingers inside her tight passage. Releasing the bud, he looked up her body, her hips rocking to the beat he created. “Come for me, Abigail.” Rubbing his face back between her slick lips, he nuzzled her clit before again catching it and sucking and flicking it.
Her knees snapped up around his face as she cried out, spine arching. The taste of her, rich and hot and a little spicy, across his tongue, only made him hungry for more.
Rubbing his hand from her knees to her hips, he pushed above her to meet her eyes. Her breasts jiggled as she struggled to breathe and his fingers, still buried inside her, moved so he could feel her clench around him in response.
“That’s two. I owe you quite a few more.”
“That’s a debt which, if you’re serious about repaying it, could take a while.”
“I figure you’re right.” He suckled one of her nipples into his mouth, tweaking the other between forefinger and thumb. She wriggled in response.
“We have all night. I want to see your body.”
It was a request he was happy to fulfill. Once he was naked and slid on a condom, he pulled her against him. Just the feel of her breasts, pressed to his chest, her arms banding around him, made his heart twist.
So long.
He wanted to hold her again for so very long.
He buried his face in her neck, kissing the softness of her skin there, inhaling her scent.
Her fingers, those clever slender fingers, traced across his flesh, relearning the topography of his body. When she cupped his cock, he bucked into her hand, unable to resist the feel of her.
Worshiping her, he started at her neck, worked his way across her collarbones, to her breasts.
Man, he missed her tits.
Once she was writhing beneath him, he touched her again, finding her wet, and enjoyed the way she arched.
Urgent, she pulled him to her. He was happy to oblige, moving between her legs before they locked around his waist, and then he sank into her heat.
Catching her mouth, he swallowed her moan, tongues tangling as he began to move.
He planned to go slow.
He planned to take his time.
Her nails digging into his back and her hips jerking against him made him move faster. Swiveling his hips, he felt her whole body tense and then the muscles of her tight, wet sheath closed around him as another orgasm rocked her body.
Fighting his own climax, he broke the kiss, clenching his jaw.
And then she was moving again, all liquid muscles, wrapping around him and blasting all rational thought from his mind.
His fingers slid between them, teasing the knot of nerves and feeling the aftershocks ripple across her muscles.
And he came, his own orgasm seeming to start at his toes and spasming every muscle in his body, pushing into her as her hands smoothed across his back, his ass, her kisses peppering across his shoulder.
His arms shook as he collapsed next to her, curling her into his body with the last remnants of his strength.
Holding her, he tried to remember how to breathe.
“So,” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“That was nice.”
Turning his head to face her, he met her laughing chocolate eyes. “Nice?”
She giggled, for a moment looking like the carefree girl he remembered.
“You thought that was nice?”
“Very nice?”
“You aren’t sure?” He caught her lips, amazed that even after mind-shattering sex, the taste of her was enough to make him a little dizzy.
“I’m sure. It was very nice.”
“Well, if round one was nice, wait till we get to round two.”
“Round two?”
“Yeah, Bigfoot. I’ve missed you. And I’m not tired yet and I’m not going anywhere. I may have been a chickenshit before, but I’m here now and we’ve got time to make up for.” His body stirred to life, cock beginning to harden.
“Again?”
“Oh yeah. Again.”
“Oh my.” Her cheeks flushed and she smiled, a slow curl of lips full of seduction. “Well, this time, I get to be on top.”
“You think?”
“I figured we could change it up a little. Wouldn’t want you to get bored.”
“I’ll let you know if I feel bored.” His fingers began to wander across her skin.
“If you’re not bored…how many condoms did you bring, exactly?” Her voice was breathless as she began to move for him.
His laughter rumbled up from his chest, feeling lighter than it had in years, as he met her eyes.
Chapter Eighteen
February 7, 2014
Abby,
Lou came to see me. We sat up all night until the sun rose, and I really talked to him…like I used to talk to you.
I told him I miss you, Bigfoot. Even if you’re a stubborn ass who still never has written me back. Even if you might never forgive me.
I miss you too much to stay away any longer.
To put it in the words of the iconic Ozzy (knew you’d love that. You know the concert rocked. Even if he made fun of your precious Alanis.), Mama, I’m comin’ home.
So, yeah, anyway. Prepare yourself.
I want to see if you still feel something for me. And if I still feel the way about you that I used to. Maybe I can finally get you out of my system.
Maybe we can finally have our happily ever after.
One way or another, our time is now.
I’m hoping you’re ready for me.
Oh, by the way…you don’t have to wear underwear. I won’t tell anyone.
;)
Love, as always,
B
Braxton woke up alone. A rooster on the farm on the other side of the lake crowed, a possessive cry that echoed over the water and into the brilliantly colored sky hanging above him.
Rolling over, he looked for her. Her clothes were gone. She left him. After everything, the fact she made love to him through the night and disappeared before the sun stained the sky shouldn’t hurt.
But it did. Shoving a hand through his hair, he realized, finally, that he was a complete fool.
Everyone might joke about him being the Runaway Groom of Ashtabula County, but really, he had been chasing after the ghost of Abigail for more years than he cared to think about. He loved her, waited for her, spilled his heart out to her.
And this morning, she was gone.
There was no note in the cab of his truck. Nothing to show she spent the night in his arms, crying out, digging her nails into his back, answering his need for her with one that blazed just as hot on her end.
Nothing.
As usual, he was alone.
“Enough of this shit.”
Slamming the door of his truck, he spit gravel with the tires of the truck as he sped back to town.
If she left at this point, so be it.
He was done walking around with his tail between his legs like some poor, pathetic dog in heat, chasing after a bitch that didn’t want him.
It was time for her to see how it felt to twist in the wind. She knew how he felt about her. She knew where he was. If she wanted him, she knew where to find him.
And if he was crying a little, well, screw it. She read the letters. He’d poured his heart out to her. She of all people should understand that sometimes men cry too.
They just fucking do.
Curled into Braxton’s body, she was feeling anything but the serenity reflected by nature around her. Panic curled in sickly knots in her stomach. This wouldn’t work. He would leave again. She hadn’t lied to him. She read all the letters. Each and every one. Each one spoke of a love that made her cry…a lot. But it hadn’t been enough. At the end of the day, it hadn’t been enough to keep him and he had walked away.
So she took him into her body since, really, she never took him out of her heart. She might have fooled herself for a while. She might have almost convinced herself that she hated him, that he hurt her enough that she would never forgive him.
But all of it was cover for the awful truth. She loved him more than she ever loved anyone or anything, and she accepted that she wasn’t enough to keep him.
The minute man from their teen years was gone, proved by a night of lovemaking, and he wasn’t a jackass, proved by thousands of letters. But she wasn’t enough for him, proved because he left her once. For this moment, this snapshot in time, he was hers. The smell of him surrounded her as much as his warmth did.
Knowing that he was going to leave and staying to see it were two very different things. She grabbed her clothes, threw them on and tiptoed away, only glancing back once at his still-sleeping form. Her heart twisted in her chest. Better to leave now, while he was sleeping, than to hurt when he left her.
And if she cried a little on the walk back to town, it wasn’t that big of a deal. After all, she would cry far more if she stuck around to get more attached only to have him leave again.
Chapter Nineteen
February 7, 2012
Abby,
Happy Birthday!
I’ve been working in a factory and I hate it. I’m stuck on swing shifts, so one week I’m on firsts, the next seconds, the third week I’m on third shift. The only good thing about this is that when I’m on thirds, I can sleep and get paid for it. My boss is a jackass, my apartment has roaches, and I miss home so bad it’s like a toothache on my heart.
How the hell are you?
This year, I got you a beer. Yeah, you aren’t drinking it so I will sip it for you. Who would have thought our lives would turn out this way? If you’d asked me back in school who would be part of my life forever and what my life would be like…I surely wouldn’t have guessed this. I’m thinking your life probably worked out a lot closer to what you wanted it to be. You were always smart, landed on your feet.
Maybe I’m paying for leaving. Maybe my life was meant to be this empty. Anyway, thinking of you. Hope your birthday rocked.
Love ya,
B
“Tea? You made me tea? I think I’m gonna bawl.” Carnie accepted the colorful mug with both hands and blew at the steam curling out of the top. “Thanks for putting up with my sick butt.”
“That’s what friends are for.” Plopping at the foot of the couch, Abigail considered her. “Your hair looks like shit, your nose is redder than Rudolph’s but otherwise, you look much better today.”
Carnie snorted, setting the mug on the coffee table. “Yeah, thanks for that. Hit me while I’m down. I’ll remember that.”
Adjusting herself on the sofa, she got a strange look on her face.
“Hey.” She pulled out a letter from between the cushions. “Is this one of those letters Braxton wrote you?”
“Gimme that.” Abigail grabbed for it but, sick or not, Carnie snatched it out of her reach.
“Oh no. I have been dying to read these. What did you do with the giant tubs-o-love, anyway?”
“I read them.”
“Then what? You never dished about it. It’s been driving me nuts. I’ve been dying to hear what happened with all that.”
“Nothing. Nothing happened. It’s over, well, it was already over before it began.”
“Uh huh…” Carnie was scanning the letter, which she opened while swatting away Abigail’s attempts to retrieve it. “Oh my sweet horny ex-boyfriends, I have never read anything like this. He wants to put his tongue where?”