“I love you, Abbi. Be safe.”
“I’ll text you later.”
“Do. I’m going to worry about you.”
“Love you, Mom. Same goes for Asher and Mason.”
23
Clay
We didn’t leave the dormitory until close to midnight. Abbi looked exhausted. For the first time in hours, I could breathe deeply. Much as I wanted to grab her hand, I refrained, unsure where she and I were after this latest shockwave.
I wanted to go back to the simple, happy place where I could ease my lips and tongue over her body and know it was mine alone. Which made me the world’s biggest asshole. Abbi hadn’t posed for fucking Playboy, trying to garner fame with her body. She’d been drugged and violated.
But I’d quickly realized I didn’t want to deal with that reality.
She’d told me. She’d showed me. I’d been okay with the theory. I wasn’t so okay with the knowledge that every time I looked at her, someone else was looking at her, too. Fine. I was fucking pissed. And jealous, which made me angrier because I’d never been jealous before.
I’d stood in the hall of her dormitory as she packed a bag of clothes, which I now held. She’d insisted on carrying her messenger bag herself.
“We’re going to Clay’s now,” she said to her mom as we walked down the steps of the dorm and out into the cool, dark night. Shit, I couldn’t imagine how anxious Dahlia and Asher had to be right now. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Afternoon? Okay. Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem. Let me ask him.”
“My mom wants me to come over tomorrow. You want to come, too?”
I tried to gauge her reaction but couldn’t in the dark. “Do you want me to go?” I asked.
The next light along the path spilled onto her face, showing her uncertainty. I stopped walking and cupped her cheek with my free hand. Her skin was soft, smooth. Her eyes drifted closed like she couldn’t believe I’d want to touch her.
“Do you want me there?” I asked again.
“Yes.” Her lip trembled. “I want you there. But that’s selfish. Maybe it would be best if I went home now and you could go back to being normal.”
The weight in my gut pressed even harder. Hadn’t I just been thinking that? Abbi’s face was pale. She was tall but so small at the same time. And she was carrying such a burden.
“Look at me,” I said.
Her lashes lifted, and I looked into those eyes—eyes I’d never, ever forget. Vulnerable eyes filled with fear and hope.
“I’m here for you, Abbi.”
She turned her face to press her lips to my palm. The kiss was gentle, a thank-you. But it turned me on, much to my disgust. I removed my hand before I totally embarrassed myself.
She put the phone back to her ear. “Clay’s coming with me.”
My hand fisted on the handle of her bag as I listened to her making plans for us. Because we were together. I had to look away so I could get my expression back under control. I swallowed down my need to bolt. I’d promised. I wasn’t going to be like my dad and run.
I wasn’t my dad.
Sure, I’d planned to help her with the media, but now someone—probably Bethany—had upped the game. Forced me deeper into this than I wanted to be, but I’d continue to play the role.
Except this morning it hadn’t been me playing a part. It had been magic. We’d been so comfortable together.
“Love you, too. We’ll let you know when.”
She hung up the phone, tucked it into her pocket.
“Let’s get you home,” I said, my voice gruff.
She flashed me a smile. How, in the midst of all this terrible shit, could she be happy? She laid her hand on my chest and I stopped walking again.
“Thank you, Clay. You being here, I’m so thankful for you.”
She slid up onto her toes and kissed me. A soft peck that went straight to my crotch. I dropped the handle of her suitcase and gathered her in my arms and kissed her, claiming her mouth with mine. I wasn’t willing to share her, not now. And she needed to understand that.
I pulled back, shocked I’d been so aggressive. Abbi touched her lips, then her cool fingers touched mine.
Driving to my apartment took about fifteen minutes. Kai and Jenna had left the dorms hours ago, but I’d waited for Abbi to finish with the police and the university administrator. My eyes burned and my throat felt drier than the wheat fields of Eastern Washington in the summer.
“You hungry?” I asked as we headed up the elevator.
“I don’t know.”
I walked to my door, but before I could pull out my key, it opened. Nessa was there, pulling Abbi into a hug.
“You’re here. We were worried.”
“I had to talk to the police. Twice. Then the Northern staff and your good friend Jan, the victim advocate.”
“We ordered pizza,” Jenna said, peering around Nessa. “Come in and grab a slice. It’s cold, but it’s food.”
I grabbed a couple bottles of water from the fridge and handed one to Abbi. She nibbled at a piece of veggie-laden pizza, looking lost in thought. Jenna leaned forward like she wanted to ask a question.
“Where’s Dane?” I asked, sighing as my butt hit the chair. I was tired.
“He and Kai ran an errand,” Nessa said, her eyes darting back to Abbi.
“Please tell me they didn’t go talk to Bethany,” I groaned, setting down my slice of pizza.
The door opened. “Talk, no,” Kai said. He snagged a slice heavily laden with meat, same as I had. “She wasn’t there.”
Nessa stood and wrapped her arms around Dane, who looked as raw as I was. He pulled Nessa down into his lap with a sigh.
“I swear she wasn’t this crazy when we met,” he said. “I’m so sorry about this shit, Abbi.”
Abbi set her pizza down. “No one’s blaming you. We don’t know for sure she’s even responsible. It could very well be Steve or one of his gross friends. But thank you for looking out for me.”
“Oh!” Nessa scrambled up on her knees. “Bethany said her cousin goes to Tech? Remember, Clay?”
I nodded as I chewed. “She did. Maybe there’s a connection there.”
Dane tugged at his lower lip. “I’ll make some calls.”
“Me, too,” Kai said, face solemn. “We got your back, Abbi.”
She nodded, her gaze taking in all the faces in the room. She stopped last at me. “I haven’t had so many people care about me in a long time. It’s nice.”
I grasped her hand and pulled her down the hall toward my room. I stopped long enough to grab her bags, thankful I had a bathroom attached to my bedroom. I didn’t want to deal with more emotion or people tonight.
I closed the door behind me, locking it. I wrapped my arms around her, tucking her in close, the way she seemed to like best.
“How are you, really?”
“I’m good,” she said. She sounded surprised and relieved. “I don’t have to hide anymore because I’m scared those pictures will come out.”
Her arms wound tight around my back, like she was comforting me. But I was supposed to be comforting her. Hell, this was confusing.
“Go brush your teeth, whatever you need to do to get ready for the night.”
I waited until she was in the bathroom before I slammed my fist into the mattress. Not once, but many times. I tunneled my fingers through my hair, trying to calm down.
I hated those pictures. I hated the douchebag who’d taken them and the ones who’d participated. I hated that the police were—right now—touching them, examining them. I’d think about that while we were together, and it was not a turn on.
“Fuck,” I groaned. I hit the bed again.
Abbi ran her hand down my back. “It’s okay.”
I turned, surprised to find her in her bra and panties. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun. I studied her: face washed clean, getting ready for sleep. This version of Abbi was immediately my favorite because it was mine. No one else was going to see her like this. I’d make s
ure of it.
I grabbed her waist and pulled her against me, bending my head to slam my lips against hers. She grunted but wound her arms around my neck, opening to me immediately. I eased the kiss, running my lips side to side over hers in a whisper-soft caress.
“I don’t want you to be upset about those pictures.”
I leaned my forehead against hers. “See. That’s the problem. I’m supposed to be comforting you.”
She cupped my cheeks tilting my chin down so she could look in my eyes. She hesitated for a long moment. “I’ve had months to figure out how I wanted to deal with the shame of it—and that’s what this is about. Making me feel terrible for being a woman.”
“I—” My eyes darted away. “I don’t like sharing you with anyone. I don’t like men knowing how you look naked.”
“I don’t like it either. But I can’t change the fact someone took the pictures. All I can do is stand tall and not let them take another piece of me along with those photos.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe . . . would you take the day to hang out with me tomorrow?”
I nodded. We’d hole up here and focus on each other. “Do you know how to make waffles?”
She smiled. “Yes. Mason loves them. You, too?”
“They’re my favorite. With whipped cream.”
Her eyes widened as she saw where my eyes had dropped. I had to get away from her before I pushed this further. She was vulnerable, and I wasn’t going to be another asshole who took advantage of an emotional woman.
“Grab a shirt if you want one. I’ll be right back.”
I trudged into the bathroom, lamenting my need to act like a gentleman. I got ready for bed—I had no idea what took women so long and was pretty sure I didn’t ever want to know. Then I took another couple minutes to give myself a pep talk.
Much as I wanted to brand her sexually so that she couldn’t remember anything or anyone’s touch but mine, that was a purely Neanderthal reaction. One I needed to get the hell over. Because we weren’t really even dating.
We were complicated. More so now that my desire to protect Abbi was mixed up with my desire for her.
Taking a deep, calming breath, I walked back into my bedroom. I stopped when I noticed Abbi sitting on the edge of the mussed bed, picking at her thumbnail. She looked small and sad.
“What’s wrong?”
24
Abbi
I slid off Clay’s bed and picked up one of his shirts he’d thrown over the back of his chair. It smelled like him, and I had to resist the urge to bring the soft cotton to my nose. Clay grabbed my hand.
“What are you doing?”
“The look on your face . . . I was thinking maybe it would be best if I left.”
“Why?”
“I told you I was a mess. And now I’m hurting you. I hate that, Clay. You’ve been through enough with Cassidy.”
“You’re not leaving. I want you here.”
“No, you don’t.”
His nose quivered as his eyes narrowed. “Don’t you goddamn tell me what I want!”
“You could barely look at me. You’re waging a war in your head, and it’s exhausting for me to watch it.”
“I want you, Abbi. I want you to stay here in my bed.”
“But—”
“Do you want to that, too?” he bellowed. The voices in the other room fell silent.
I should be afraid; he was shaking with anger. But it was directed at the people who’d hurt me. I put my hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. “Yes. I want that, too.”
His arms slid around me, pulling my bra-clad chest tight to his naked one. He dropped his cheek to the top of my head. “You make me crazy.”
“I don’t mean to.”
He held me for a long moment. “Will you stay with me?”
I pressed my cheek harder against his chest, inhaling that clean, woodsy scent. I shouldn’t. Now that I’d seen what these pictures were doing to him, I should cut him loose. I closed my eyes, tears burning my nose and eyelids. The media, the pictures, my life, everything was only going to get worse.
“Please.” His voice was soft.
I sucked in a deep breath and forced the need to cry down. “Yes.”
I woke slowly, feeling languorous as I stretched. I’d slept—really slept, which shocked me. My mouth tipped up. We’d both been exhausted by the time I finished showing Clay how happy I was to have him in my life.
“Morning, sleepy head,” Clay said, smoothing my hair off my neck and kissing me there. I shivered.
“It is a good morning.”
He chuckled again. “It’s almost over.”
I tensed, trying to sit up, but he kept his arm around my waist. “What? How is that possible? What time is it?”
“Just after ten. You slept like the dead.”
“I never sleep late,” I said, shocked. “Must have been all the orgasms.” Clay’s tongue licked its way up my neck to my earlobe. He sucked on it gently. I moaned.
“I’ll take that. I wanted to call your mom but it was impossible to break into your phone. She called a couple of hours ago. I told her you were still sleeping. She said to call her and reminded you about stopping by later.”
“I’ll call her later.” I twisted the sheet between my fingers.
He cleared his throat. “What do you want to do today?”
“This.” My words were breathy, barely there.
He chuckled. “Good. Me, too.” He rolled me over and kissed me, his mouth hungry against mine.
I gripped his biceps and kissed him back, my tongue dueling with his.
He finally broke the kiss. “We gotta slow down, Abbi.”
“Why?”
“Besides the fact I want you so badly I can’t see straight?”
“I can fix that.”
He rolled over and threw his arm across his eyes. “I should’ve waited the last time. Much as I liked sexing you up.”
I eased out of bed. He didn’t move. I slithered out of my panties and bra and then crawled back into the bed, right on top of him. He opened his eyes wide when he slid his hand down my bare back.
“So here’s the deal. I wanted you two months ago. I want you more now.” I met his gaze, his pupils dilated. “I care about you, Clay. Like, a lot.”
He flipped me over, pinning my wrists to his bed. His tongue found my jaw and I arched my neck up into him. He made a thick, humming sound and worked his way down my throat toward my chest.
“You are gorgeous,” Clay moaned. Desire had pebbled the pink tips of my breasts to hard points. He pulled one into his mouth, lapping it with his tongue. I liked the sensation but it was clearly more of a turn on for him. Sensing my hesitation, Clay nuzzled his head between my breasts, and my hips shifted up to cuddle him.
“Turn over,” he said. I complied and he licked and kissed his way down my spine. I shivered as goose bumps popped up all over my skin. He kneaded his hand on my left bottom cheek, his teeth scraping along my right one. I moaned, shoving back toward him.
He laughed. His hand snaked back up to my breast, tweaking the nipple. This time I lurched back against him again. He worked those soft, warm lips over the back of my thighs, down to the sensitive skin behind my knees.
My breathing had shortened to puffs of need. When he slid back up my body, his bare chest in contact with my back, I couldn’t help the moan. He felt too good. He pulled me up to my knees, my back against his chest as his fingers slid from my breasts, circling my navel before finding the indentions inside my hip bones.
I looped my arm behind his neck, pushing my chest out. Clay’s chest rumbled with the sound as his left hand came up to claim my breast again. He weighed and massaged it in his hand.
His other hand slid between my thighs. I trembled as he rubbed his thumb over my clit, seeking my desire. I was wet, plumped, ready. He inhaled sharply as he slid a finger into my welcoming body.
“You feel good.”
I pressed my hips back into his thigh
s, feeling his thick erection against my back. I rubbed again, needing more, wanting more. Especially when his finger pumped in and out of my body. My legs slid open farther and Clay slid another finger into me, his thumb flicking back to my swollen bundle of nerves. I jerked against him, needy.
He kissed my cheek and I turned to find his lips. I opened for him and his tongue slid past my lips to tangle with mine. The dual sensation of his tongue in my mouth and his fingers in my body rippled heated pleasure through my muscles.
He broke the kiss and reached around me to his bedside table. He pulled out a condom, and I watched, fascinated as he rolled it on. He slid his hand up and down himself, his eyes sliding closed as his nostrils flared.
His obvious desire for me made me feel powerful. I cupped him and his eyes shot open, finding mine.
“Do that again,” he groaned. I did, and he pushed his hips against my hand. I slid my hand over him like he’d done and he growled.
“I need to be inside you. Right now.”
“Yes,” I murmured against his lips.
He pulled my hips back against him. I blushed as I realized he wanted me on my hands and knees. I leaned forward, catching the headboard so I could ease my body down to the bed.
“Like that,” he grunted, one of his thighs pushed between mine, spreading my legs. “Hold on tight.”
As he said the words, he slid inside my body. My stomach muscles and even my throat tightened as he eased into me. It was as though I didn’t want him to leave—ever.
“Abbi.” His hand landed on top of mine where it gripped the wood of his headboard.
He slid out and I pushed back, wanting him filling me up again. His hips thrust forward and I moaned, deep and long.
“I like hearing what I do to you,” he whispered in my ear.
“More.”
He bit my earlobe as he pulled back. His lips moved in a lazy trail down my neck as he pumped back into me. My fingers slid against the headboard, my breast hitting the cool wood.
I yelped at the shock of the coolness against my sensitized skin. Clay slid his hand around my waist. His arm was thick, corded with muscle and covered in short dark hairs that tickled my belly.
Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five Page 90