Page 22 of Embers in Our Past

I open my fridge and realize I forgot to stock up before my last shift, so I have nothing stronger than water. I slam the door and rest my hands against the cool stainless steel. Soon, I feel her hands against my shoulders, trying to soothe me.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me.” Too bad Abby has terrible listening skills because she continues to move her hands along my shoulders and down my biceps.

“Clay, please look at me,” she pleads, just above a whisper.

“I can’t. I’m fucking furious right now. You broke my heart when you left, and tonight, you fucking shattered it.” I’m about to move away when I feel her kiss between my shoulder blades above the fabric of my shirt.

As much as this pisses me off, my dick doesn’t seem to care that we are supposed to be on the same page. I feel my cock stiffen behind my zipper.

“What are you doing, Abby?” I ask with thickness in my throat. I keep my back to her, afraid of how I’ll react if I turn around.

“I told you, Clay. I was set up on a blind date. I didn’t know Malloy was my date until I opened the door,” she says, still planting kisses along my upper back.

“Then why did you go on the date after you found out it was a fellow firefighter?” I ask, still needing clarification, although my mind is starting to wonder if an answer really matters at this point because all I want to do is turn around and devour her.

“Because Marissa wanted me to go out and distract myself a little. She didn’t know who the date was with either. She just reached out to someone to set me up with a person in Boston, and Malloy happened to be that person.”

That’s a small world.

Abby’s hands start to move down my sides to the hem of my shirt and begin to drift under my shirt. I don’t know if we are riled up because we are emotional after tonight or we just missed seeing one another, but the tension between us is intense. I can’t resist the temptation anymore.

I finally turn around and meet her gaze. I see fire in her eyes, and there’s no innocence looking back at me. She wants this just as much as I do.

“What do you want, Abby?” I ask as I move my hand through her hair, pulling her head back and drawing a moan out of her.

“I want to remember what it’s like to be touched by you,” she says.

I move my lips close to the shell of her ear. “Oh yeah? You know what I think?”

I hear her breath hitch.

I continue, “I think you want me to remind you why I’m the only man at that bar you should be with.”

She whimpers in response, and I smile. I nibble her earlobe and see the goosebumps break out. It's such a turn-on that she's so reactive to my touch, even after all this time apart.

I glide my tongue along her jaw until our mouths connect. The moment our lips come together, it feels like coming home, and electricity ignites. I have missed her and this feeling of love with the person I know is my forever.

I push that feeling aside, knowing this isn’t what we have anymore, and let the intensity of our kiss ignite the flame that exists between us. Her moan is swallowed by my own. She rolls her hips into me, and my length hardens even more for her.

I turn her around and pin her to the fridge. I bring my hands to hers and intertwine our fingers together, moving our hands above our heads and pin them there.

I roll my hips into her, then pull my lips away enough to look her in the eyes. “I think a little reminder of who this pussy belongs to would be a good place to start tonight.”

I’m feeling greedy and angry. I think she’s going to comply with my demand with a simple nod until she answers, “Then maybe you should feast on me for a while to show me what’s yours.”

The smirk she throws at me only confirms the confidence she’s returned to Boston with, and it’s hard not to find it incredibly attractive. I guess she gained something in her time away. That timid version of Abby that left all those months ago has faded, and I see that beauty I have always loved rising back to the surface. Deep down, I knew she was going to return.

Without giving her an answer, I bring her dress up above her ass, pick her up to sit on my counter, and rip her panties. They are black lace, and the fury that engulfs me at the thought another man may have seen these tonight takes over.

“This is my pussy, Abby,” I say as I throw the panties over my shoulder and get on my knees.

I spread her knees wide and bring my lips to her core. I give her no warning and move my tongue to her center. She screams from the contact, her feet coming to my shoulders for support, opening herself even wider. Her hands find my hair, and within seconds, she’s moaning, screaming my name, telling me not to stop and that she’s coming.

Like hell, I’m going to stop. I continue until she’s riding my face so hard and fast that I nearly come myself from the mere satisfaction of hearing her pleasure.

I kiss the inner portions of her thigh while she’s coming off her orgasm. When I look up, I take in all that has happened while I was lost in Abby’s pussy.

Her hair looks like she’s been well fucked from however many times she’s run her hands through it, and she must have pulled her tits out of the top of her dress. She sees me staring and begins to put herself together.

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