He picked up the dog and tucked her under his arm. “Oh, I don’t know, girls need meat on their bones to look good. Maybe I’ll give her three.” Abigail opened her mouth and snapped it shut. “Now get your pretty ass in the bathroom, then into bed.”
Had he just said he liked curvy women? She wanted to jump up and down and clap her hands like an idiot. The thought made her sashay her hips a bit more than needed as she made her way to the bathroom.
He likes fluffy girls…la di da…he likes fluffy girls!
She closed the bathroom door and glanced over at the tub. The thought of the naughty DVD she’d watched yesterday seeped into her thoughts. The sexy image of Sean stepping out of Eric’s Jacuzzi made her pussy whimper. There he stood on her TV, naked, shaving, and getting ready for bed. God, he had the perfect bubble butt, each cheek round enough to be more than a handful. Maybe she could lock the bathroom door and rub one off real quick. He’d never know. Maybe even watch the DVD again after he left.
But I don’t want him to leave.
She didn’t want another night of coming followed by tears. She wanted a warm body. In Sean’s case, a hot body, to cuddle with after the euphoria of her orgasm. She’d gone out, in public, to a bar, at night. She had been brave, and look what happened—nothing. Absolutely nothing bad had happened. She was safe and actually had fun. If she could accomplish that, think of the other possibilities. Maybe she could even go to the grocery store for longer than five minutes.
God, she had to pee. Sitting on the toilet always seemed to bring about her greatest ideas. The endless stream of urine made her laugh. “Okay,” she said to herself. “I haven’t had sex in like, damn, two years.”
Oh God, it’s been three years
. “Okay, so maybe tonight could be my lucky night. Sean’s strong and can fight. If Justin found out…” Just speaking the bastard’s name made her tongue turn to acid.
“Wait, he’ll never know. There’s no way.”
Well, maybe no way
. “Okay, so I can sleep with Sean tonight, and we can go back to business as usual. Yep, that’s the plan.”
She flushed the toilet and washed her hands. The mirror was the great equalizer.
Damn
! Her ponytail was lopsided, her sweater hung from one shoulder, and the gloss on her lips was long gone. She did her best to brush out the tangles and let the long locks drape over her shoulders. Ditching the sweater, she tugged her legs free from the tight jeans and readjusted her boy-short panties.
“There. Oh, wait.” She reached under her shirt and unfastened the white lace bra. After doing a Houdini number to remove the undergarment, her breasts bounced into their natural position. “Okay, Mr. Drennan. Tonight’s my lucky night. I can do this.”
She flung open the bathroom door, and there was no one there. Cautiously stepping from the bathroom, she peered around the small living room. No one. “Sean?”
“In here.” The velvety voice came from her bedroom. What was he doing in there? She walked into her room and saw just what he was doing. He’d corrupted her damn dog! The two were lying back against the wall of pillows resting on her headboard. He patted the mattress next to him as he munched on a potato chip. His hand slid over to let Penelope take one from his hand. “Come on. There’s a show about the Knights Templar on the History Channel. Want to watch it?”
“What? I thought…” She felt like a fool. Suddenly, her newfound courage was the stupidest thing she’d ever conjured up.
His eyes kept switching back and forth between the TV and her. “Do you usually sleep in that?” He uncrossed his ankles, then shifted and crossed them back. His big hands grabbed for the bag of chips and stuffed them in his lap.
She felt more naked than if she’d been in her birthday suit. “No.” The way he was studying her legs made her feel uncomfortable. She knew they weren’t slender like the women he was used to seeing at the gym. Her belly’s pooch wasn’t the flat abs he was used to either.
Damn! Damn! Damn! He said he liked girls with meat on their bones
. Had she imagined it?
Fight or flight took over, and she sprinted for the bed to hide under the covers. Penelope snorted at the invasion and snuggled closer to Sean’s side.
“I forgot a glass of water,” she said.
“I’ll get it.” Before she could protest, he was out of the bed and headed for the kitchen.
Abigail looked down into two soft brown eyes. “He’s really nice. Think we should let him stay overnight?” She stroked the dog’s back. The furry little beast perched her chin on Abigail’s thigh. “Okay, he can stay.”
Sean strolled back into the room much slower than he’d left. He’d taken his shoes off. Abigail took in the sight from his white-socked feet up to the tips of his cropped hair. He was a fierce sight. All lean muscle and catlike grace. The clear glass in his hand looked so small compared to his strong hands.
“What?”
She reached for the glass. “Nothing.”
The bed shifted as he leaned back down against the headboard. “Then why is your face so red?” His lips tipped up into a sly grin.
“It’s not. I was… Oh, just watch the show.” She gulped down half the water before leaning over to set the glass on the bedside table. “Did you know the Freemasons are considered the descendants of the Templars?”
“Did you know that Friday the thirteenth is an ominous day because the Knights Templars were killed on that day?” He smirked. “I took a religious studies class in college.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,
oh
. I’m more than a musclehead, ya know.”
Now her face was red. She could feel the heat all the way down her neck. “I didn’t mean… What I meant was that… I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” He dug into the bag of chips. “People take one look at me and think I’m a jerk or a dumbass.”
She wasn’t about to confess she’d had that preconceived notion as well. Guys who looked like him always seemed to turn their noses down at her. But Sean was different. He was strong and kind and funny and… She stopped herself. Her chest did a funny tickle as her heart sped up. All she could think about was reaching over and pulling his big body on top of her own. The weight of him would be enough to sustain her for the rest of her life.
“People think I’m some kind of leather dominatrix.”
She loved the sound of his easy laugh. She had a sneaking suspicion he didn’t let many people hear it.
“I knew you had a riding crop hidden somewhere in here.”
She punched his arm. Dang, he was hard. It hurt her knuckles far more than it hurt his bicep.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“If you give me one of those chips,” she said. He leaned the bag over so she could grab a few chips. Penelope took two before Abigail chomped down on the last one.
“Why were you beating the shit out of your answering machine the other day? You looked scared to death and pissed as hell.”
Abigail almost choked on the dry chip. “No reason. I have a temper. No big deal.” Justin’s words stung her brain once again.
Tell anyone, and next time I’ll make sure you’re dead.
“If it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me. I was just curious what could have made you so mad…or scared.”
She tugged on the blanket until it tucked under her chin. The battle to burrow under the covers was lost. She dug deeper until she felt safe and looked over to make sure the curtains had been closed. “Nothing. It was nothing.”
“Got it. I didn’t mean to pry.” He folded the open end of the bag of chips and shifted to get up.
The last thing she wanted was for him to leave. “Wait, don’t go. Please stay. I want you to stay.”
He stopped. “Yeah?”
“Yes, at least stay until I fall asleep…please?”
His expression softened. “You sure? I’m pretty beat. Would it be okay if I just stayed here?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
He stood up and tugged on the hem of his T-shirt, dragging the soft material over his head. Her eyes widened.
Oh, Holy Mother
. The hard planes of his chest rose and fell as he tossed his shirt on the floor. “Is this good? I can’t sleep in a shirt. Makes me feel tied down.”
“Um, sure. Yes…I mean, no. I mean, it’s fine. It’s good. I don’t mind.”
He chuckled as he slid under the covers. “Good. If I have to put up with your fairy underwear, then you can put up with my lack of a shirt.”
She rolled onto her side and watched as he situated the covers around him and Penelope. “For your information, she’s Tinker Bell.”
“They’re green, and a girl’s face is on your ass.”
Now she was outright laughing. This was supposed to be a romantic, sexy roll in the hay. Instead, his charm made her smile, made her feel safe. “Just because your thong is stuck up your butt doesn’t mean you can judge my panties.”
“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I want to judge your panties. And what’s in them too.”
“Well, maybe I want to judge
your
thong and what doesn’t fit in it too.”
He tapped his finger on the tip of her nose. “Ha-ha.”
Maybe she went over the line. It was the truth. There was no thong on the planet that could hold his cock in place. What a beautiful thought. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. It was rude. How about judge your thong and the pink bow on the front of it?”
“No, I think I like you thinking about my dick swinging in a pink thong. Kind of turns me on.”
This time she tapped him on the nose. “Ha-h—”
He grabbed her finger. “Roll over.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so, silly. Come on. Didn’t I get you home safely? And who gave your dog her treats? Come on, roll over for me.”
“Um, okay.” Abigail rolled over, showing him her back. As she turned, the room began a slow spin. “Whoa, the room’s moving.”
Sean laughed. “The walls are solid. Your tipsy ass is moving.”
She waited for the room to stop spinning and turned the rest of the way over. “Ha-ha, funny guy. Sean?”
“Yeah?”
“I can trust you, can’t I?” The moment the words found life, all she wanted to do was kill them. Her skin prickled. The bed shifted, and suddenly a wall of heat radiated through her thin tank top.
“Can you really trust anybody?”
And finally, the hands that she’d admired so many times, the same hands that took the paychecks from her much smaller ones, the same hands she’d watched now on three videos take his big cock into their palms and stroke until sweet cum oozed from the broad tip. Those same ruggedly beautiful hands were rubbing her shoulders in a gentle yet firm massage. A touch ensuring not only relaxation but safety and unimaginable pleasure.
“I guess not. God, Sean, that feels wonderful. Those mai tais made my brain fuzzy.”
“Say it again.” The husky whisper warmed her ear. This brutally gorgeous man was breathing against her cheek, forcing her pussy to take notice. The crotch of her panties was soaked. She rubbed her thighs together, enjoying the euphoria between a coveted dream world and the safe reality of her fighter. If only she could keep her eyes open. The reality of Sean beat out her wet dreams any day. His erotic whisper made her body feel heavy, sinking her bones farther into the mattress.
“It feels wonder—”
“No, my name. Say my name.”
Now she was going to die—from passion. “S-Sean.”
“Damn, your sleepy voice makes my dick hard.”
“Mmm.” Was this a dream? Had she already fallen asleep?
“You can fall asleep, Abigail. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
The promise was more than she could ever ask for and more precious than he could ever know. The tips of his warm fingers slid under the straps of her tank top. The pads of his fingers were rough, and it felt like each swirl of his fingerprint was being imprinted on her skin. He worked for a living, unlike her ex. Justin had ridden into a partnership on her dad’s coattails and thanked her by stuffing her in a closet. Sean was the type to make it on his own. He didn’t need to skim off someone else’s accomplishments. He was making his way in the world, and Abigail admired that about him.
“Sean?” She wasn’t sure if her words were slurring because of the fruity drinks or her exhaustion. Probably a little of both. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
The massaging touch moved up to swirl little circles against the nape of her neck, right where it was always sore from looking at a computer screen all day. “Women don’t really…like me. I mean, they like to look at me, but they don’t
like
me. Know what I mean?”
“Mmm.” She could feel her heavy lids closing. God, if only she could stay awake long enough to talk some more. His voice was nice. “Your…voice…Sean.”
“Shh, go to sleep.”
“But…I…like…you.”
The last thing she heard was the quiet click of the lamp’s tiny knob.
SEAN ROLLED OVER, away from a hot Abigail. The heat from her skin radiated through the flimsy tank top like one of those heaters he used on a job site in the winter. Her lush body barely stirred when he gently squeezed the slope of her hip. God, he wanted to pull her against his cock, grind against her round ass until he came all over the fairy cartoon character on her panties.
Abigail’s dog lifted her little head and peered up at him. The sight was funny. In the shadowed light from the TV, she looked like she was smiling. Without a doubt, the stupidest thing he could’ve done was bring her home. The way she’d plopped down on the floor made him want to take care of her. He didn’t know what it was like to be drunk, but he imagined it felt pretty out of control. His foster dad was crazy when he was knee-deep in the bottle.
Sean scrubbed the back of his neck and gave Penelope a scratch behind one ear. “I’m going to go get a drink, little lady. Take care of her until I get back.” The pup seemed to get what he was saying and curled up tighter against Abigail’s leg.
He padded into the kitchen. After checking a couple of cabinets, he found a glass. Her fridge was nice, had a filter on the front and everything. His didn’t even have an ice maker. No big deal. Two ice trays and he was set. He stuck the glass under the filter and filled it. Her small apartment was nice, cozy. His was small and hadn’t eaten his entire paycheck when he worked construction. Now, with the four videos under his belt, he could fill his cabinets with more food than he ever had. Food was worth more than space at this point in his life. God, he hoped life wouldn’t always seem so hard.