Page 37 of Something that Could Last

I sit as long as I can, only a few minutes before I begin to pace. Images of Abby's luscious body, soap suds sliding down her skin, invade my every thought. I wander mindlessly with no destination until I end up in what I can safely assume is her bedroom. Oh, shit. This is probably worse.

I lean down, resting my palms on the edge of her dresser, and take a deep breath to calm myself. I notice she has four framed photos, her sweet face smiling back at me from each one. The large photo in the middle is with her parents and brother. She has her mother's complexion and facial features, but those green eyes are definitely her father’s.

She looks so young and carefree in the picture with Tiff. She can't be more than twelve or thirteen. There's a picture with her grandma, standing side by side in front of the house we’re in now, the love between them evident in their embrace. The last photo is of Abby with her father. It must have been taken shortly before he died, for she appears to be about ten years old. Her hair is braided down each side of her head, not the single braid she wears now. She has skinned knees and is holding a fishing pole. Her father proudly displays the day's catch with a huge grin splitting his face. Abby also beams with pride. It must have been her catch. I can't help but smile, thinking about how happy she must have been at that moment.

I set the framed photo back down and catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Seeing the photos that Abby cherished had distracted me from my near painful arousal, but now, seeing her wrapped in nothing but a towel instantly reignites my desire. She stands in the doorway of her bedroom, clutching the fluffy pink towel to her chest, her hair piled on top of her head with a few loose tendrils snaking down around her neck. Her skin glistens with moisture and I want to lick every bead of water from her body. She's surprised to see me standing in her bedroom. She doesn't seem upset, though – more like she's...excited.

“What are you doing?” she asks in that sexy, breathy voice to which I've become accustomed.

I stalk over to her and cup her cheek with my hand. “I couldn't sit around and think about you in the shower, so I started pacing and ended up in here. Your pictures gave me the distraction I needed to keep from joining you.”

“Why didn't you?” she asks, all breathy again. “Join me, I mean,” she clarifies.

“For the same reason I don't lay you down on that bed right now and lick every delicious inch of your body.” She gasps as I pull her towards me. “I have no idea when your grandma will be home, and I don't want us to get caught in a compromising position.” It’s one thing to have Luke and Tiff catch us fondling each other, but things won’t go over so well if her grandma catches us in the act. I can just picture it now, the small, elderly woman chasing me out of her house with a shotgun.

I reach down and grasp her hands, pulling them away from her chest. She releases her towel and it slides to the floor. I just need to see her. I don't plan on doing anything, I just want to feast my eyes on her exquisite form. At least that's what I tell myself. The curve of her full breasts and the flare of her hips are enough to drive a man insane. I reach up and cup her breast, stroking her nipple with my thumb. Her eyes close and her head falls back as a moan escapes her lips. That's all it takes for me to lose all of my control.

“Fuck it,” I growl and pick her up, kicking the door shut. I am insane with lust. To hell with the consequences. She wraps her legs around my hips as my tongue dives into her mouth. I carry her to the bed and set her down gently.

“Jacob,” she breathes my name. As much as I want to thrust deep inside her and lose myself to her tight warmth, it’s too risky. It’s best if only one of us needs to get dressed in a hurry. Besides, when the time comes, I want to take my time with her, savor every moment, every sigh, every touch. I don’t want to worry about having to rush or getting caught.

A sense of guilt washes over me at that thought, but it fades away quickly when I see the look of lustful need in those emerald eyes. I kiss my way down her neck before lavishing her breasts with my mouth. I gently suck one stiff peak and twirl my tongue around it, eliciting a sexy-as-hell moan from her. Her quiet little gasps and moans are the sexiest sounds to ever grace my ears. Don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate a woman screaming my name, but the subtle noises I evoke from Abby are even hotter.

I run my hand down her abdomen and around her hip, gripping her full buttock tightly. My fingers dig into the juicy flesh as I kiss my way down her stomach. Her breathing becomes more rapid as I smooth my other hand up the inside of her thigh. She gasps when I skim my fingers over her silky heat, spreading her moisture around. I rub slow, gentle circles over her clit, causing her to writhe beneath my touch. She squirms, flexing and relaxing each leg and rubbing her heels against the bedspread as if the sensation is almost too much for her to handle.

She whimpers when I pull my fingers away, gasping when I replace them with my tongue and flick it against her sensitive flesh. The erotic sound fuels my need to make her come. I slide two fingers inside her and bring my mouth back down on her, licking and sucking. I breathe in her sweet scent, trying to ignore the pulsing need growing in my groin. Her hand instinctively snakes into my hair and I pin her wrist to the bed. If I let her touch me like that, I’ll cave to my own desires.

I work her over with my tongue, her whimpers and gasps guiding me, letting me know exactly what she likes. My fingers thrust in and out of her tight center, finding that spot I know will make her explode with pleasure. She grows more restless and begins to writhe with her impending release, her back arching off the bed. I continue to stroke her, both inside and out. I know she's close. I feel her muscles tightening. She cries out as she finds her release and I help her ride out the waves. I crawl up her body and gaze down at her in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her eyes are closed and she’s panting, her hands clenched, fisting the blanket at her sides.

I graze her jaw with my fingers and press my lips to hers. She groans and opens her mouth to me. I lick inside, letting her taste herself on my tongue, a soft smile forming on her lips when I pull away. Lacing my fingers through hers, I lie down beside her and pull her to her side, facing me. She nestles into my neck and sighs contentedly.

“That was amazing,” she whispers. I grin and stifle my laughter.

“Why are you whispering?”

She giggles quietly. “I don't know,” she answers and burrows deeper into my embrace. “Something that beautiful and perfect deserves quiet reverence, I suppose.”

The shrill ringing of Abby's phone startles us both and we jump out of her bed.

“Shit!” she barks out, clutching her chest. Then she realizes she's still naked and attempts to cover her exposed flesh. I grin at her bashful nature and toss her towel to her. She has nothing to be shy about after what we just did.

She wraps her towel back around her and answers the call. “Enisi, where are you?” she says into the phone, her voice laced with nervous energy. I wince, hoping her grandmother doesn’t notice how jumpy she sounds. “Oh, um, no. I don't think there's anything I need right now. Thank you, though,” she adds, visibly relaxing. She talks to her grandmother for a few minutes, letting her know she’ll be camping tonight before hanging up. She plops down on the edge of the bed and looks up at me, sighing with relief. “She's at the store. We have at least ten minutes before she gets back.”

I sidle up to her and press a chaste kiss to her pouty lips. “You better get dressed, then. Before I rip that towel off you and lay you back down on that bed.” I shoot her a wink and walk out of her bedroom. I need to walk away from her before I do something stupid and get caught.

I'm too restless to sit down, so I lean against the kitchen counter and check my voicemail. Mom's left me her usual daily message. It's so long, my phone cuts her off. She can be so overbearing sometimes, but I know it's just because she loves me. Sometimes I think she's making up for lost time because of the way she just mentally checked out after Peyton died. It was like Logan and I didn't even exist. She finally snapped out of it and realized she was still needed as a mother. Even though she drives me crazy most of the time, I'm glad she came back to us.

Abby steps into the kitchen a few minutes later, dressed in plum-colored, cropped gym pants with yellow stripes down the sides of her legs. Her matching yellow racerback tank accentuates her ample cleavage and the sun-kissed glow of her skin. “My camping gear is in the garage,” she starts.

“I'll help you load it up,” I suggest quickly, pushing off the counter. If I spend any more time perusing her curves, we'll never make it out of here.

We load our supplies into the Range Rover and grab some food for Cero. The over-sized dog hops in the back seat like he belongs there. He sits in the center, eyes trained forward like he knows where we’re going.

“Hey, watch the leather, man,” I deliver before thinking, doing my best imitation of Matthew McConaughey. Abby looks at me with wide eyes, seemingly caught off guard by my lame impression. I instantly grow nervous, thinking I've said something really stupid. Not everybody appreciates random movie quotes.She probably thinks I'm an idiot now.She surprises me when she bursts into laughter, clutching her stomach as she guffaws.

“Oh, my gosh,” she manages, gasping for air. “I love that movie!”

I laugh with her, relieved that she doesn't think I'm a jackass. “Alright, alright, alright,” I add as I shift into drive, a triumphant grin plastered across my face.

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