Page 55 of Everything We Left Unsaid

Her fingers brush over my knuckles, so I open my hand and turn it over. Her warm palm presses against mine and I entwine my fingers with hers. “I really owe Tiff. I can’t believe she did this.”

“Not that I’m not grateful, because believe me I am, but why did she set all this up?”

She lets out a defeated sigh and looks up at me with these innocent puppy dog eyes. “I may have been complaining to her about us.”

“What?” My head whips around to stare at her in incredulity.

She giggles and squeezes my hand to soothe the blow to my ego. “I may have mentioned the porch swing to her and how we didn’t have all the...” she pauses and clears her throat, her discomfort at relaying this conversation making her bashful, “supplies we needed,” she finishes.

“You told Tiff about the swing?”

“Yeah,” she replies sheepishly.

If she’s worried that I’ll be mad about her divulging our tryst on the front porch to her best friend, she needn’t worry. It got us here, didn’t it? Besides, I’m not ashamed of what we did, and I hope she isn’t either.

“I bet she’ll never look at that swing the same way again,” I joke and Abby snickers.

“You’re not mad that I told her about it? It’s kind of private, and I really shouldn’t have shared it with her.”

“It’s okay, I’m not mad at all,” I assure her. “As long as you told her what a stud I was,” I begin jokingly, “and didn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy every second of my tongue on your clit and my fingers buried inside you.”

She gasps her surprise at my lascivious words and my lips curl up in amusement. She’s still so shy when it comes to talking about sex, but when we’re in the throes of passion, she lets go like she doesn’t have a single care or inhibition. She forgets to be shy when her body is wracked with pleasure and her focus is on just feeling.

“Well, I didn’t mention any of…” she clears her throat again, “that, but I did tell her I needed more from you,” she admits. I slip my hand out of hers and place it on her knee. “And that we don’t really have the opportunity to take things further since we always have Chloe.” My hand snakes up her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress up. I’m glad she’s careful around Chloe, even if I am her father. Hopefully, that means she hasn’t done that with anyone else around my daughter.

“I know you don’t want to leave her for the night, and honestly I’m not keen on that idea, either,” I start. “But I think I have a solution to our problem.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Instead of staying at that bed and breakfast for the night like Tiff suggested, let’s go back to my room at the inn. It’s not that far from your house, and we can be alone. I can bring you home whenever you want.”

She contemplates my offer for a moment. “I like that idea.”

“Good.” I grin deviously and push my hand farther up her leg, my eyes never leaving the road, imagining what she looks like underneath that dress.

“Jacob,” she moans when my fingers brush the front panel of her panties. She’s wearing lace this time, probably a thong, and I can’t wait to rip it off with my teeth. Between her breathy voice and the vision in my head of her glistening under that material, I’m rock hard. Grabbing her hand, I pull it into my lap and press it into my erection. She gives it a gentle squeeze and I groan. Her fingers find my button and she undoes it before sliding down the zipper.

“Abby…” my voice shakes in warning. I have a pretty good idea what she’s planning to do, and I really don’t want to wreck. She leans over and takes me in her mouth and my head falls back on the headrest, my eyes closing against my will for a second. When they pop back open, I jerk the wheel, my car skidding to a stop on the side of the road. I pull her closer to me so her knees are on the seat and her ass is in the air, thankful we’re on a dark back road in the middle of nowhere.

I slide my hand up the back of her leg as she descends on my shaft. Just as I suspected, no lace covers her cheeks, only a thin string nestled between them. My fingers find her slick opening and she moans, the vibration sending a lightning bolt of pleasure down my length.

The sight of her bent over me on her hands and knees in that demure-colored dress, her backside exposed, has me so hard and turned on I know I won’t last long. I work my fingers against her furiously, hoping she can find her release before I find mine. She moans around my cock and my balls tighten. It’s a race to the finish and I need her to win. I won’t be able to move once she drains me dry. Reaching for the lever at my side, I push my seat back a bit to open up my hips and give her more room to work. Her hand comes up to wrap around me as her mouth works up and down my length. She cries out around it and her legs shake with release. Score. My free hand spears into her hair and my hips thrust up, the motion completely out of my control. She moans again, apparently enjoying my enthusiasm. My release is intense and all-consuming, my body languid and sated when Abby releases me and sits up.

She rests back against her seat and pulls her dress down her thighs, smoothing her hands over the material. I stuff myself back into my pants and zip them up, drawing in a deep lungful of air. My heart races, hammering against my ribs as I try to catch my breath. That’s what Abby does to me. She leaves me breathless and completely spent, a useless pile of flesh and bone.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” I proclaim, lifting her face to mine. My lips brush hers, my hands cupping her flushed, heated cheeks. “Those sweet little sounds you make and how you squirm just before I get you off.” I groan against her mouth and she opens to me, allowing me to slip my tongue inside. I hope nobody else has made her do that these last two years we’ve spent apart, but I’m no fool. How can I expect her to be celibate this whole time when I sure as hell wasn’t?

I shift into drive and pull back onto the road, my focus on showing Abby a good time and taking her mind off everything that’s happened the last few days. Her phone dings with an incoming text as we approach the winery. She pulls it out of her purse and pecks out a short reply.

“It looks like I’ll need to be at the hospital early tomorrow so they can go over the discharge instructions with us.”

“Okay. What time do you want me at your house to watch Chloe?”

“You don’t mind keeping her again? I could always send Ethan over. We don’t both need to be at the hospital, and since I’m the one-”

“Abby,” I interrupt, her speech growing rapid with anxiety. “I will always be willing to watch her. She’s my daughter.” Her strained expression relaxes with my assurances. “You have to start believing that I’m not the guy from that letter.” She winces at my mention of the loathsome sheet of stationery that deceived us both. It tricked her into thinking I wanted nothing to do with our child, and consequently tricked me into thinking she’d been hiding Chloe from me this whole time. “I want to be here. I’m ready to take on this responsibility, and I’ll do anything in my power to be the father Chloe needs.” The low light of the dash reflects off her shimmering eyes, tears threatening to spill over her lashes. We pull into the lot and I throw my car in park, turning to face her in my seat.

“Thank you. I…” she begins, swallowing back her emotions. “That means more to me than you can ever imagine. It’s all I’ve ever hoped for Chloe to have; a father who would always be there for her, and who wants to be a part of her life.” I never dreamed it would actually be you. Those words remain unspoken, but I can read them on her face.

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