by M. C. Cerny
“Mr. Winters.” Vinnie nods and I shake his hand. “It’s been a pleasure driving Miss Abby.”
“Thank you for taking care of her. I’ll make sure a bonus is deposited into your account tomorrow.” I’m grateful I was able to make sure she was taken care of in our temporary separation.
“She’s a special girl. Take care now, and if you ever need my services again, you can always reach me at my number.” Vinnie drives off in his car and I walk up to her door, nervous as hell. She is more than just a special girl. She’s the woman I’ve been pining for weeks to see again. I leave everything in my car, even the remaining Turtle pie because she’s that much more important. I’ll be back for that later.
Ringing her doorbell, I hear her inside. “Just a minute.” I cover the peephole with my hand because I’m still a little bit of a jerk, and she opens the door a crack. “Who…?” Her tentative voice changes the moment her recognition clicks.
“Special delivery.” I jingle her car keys in front of the door crack before she sees me. I watch her eyes grow big and she shuts the door, squealing and scrambling to get it open. I can tell she fumbles the lock a few times when I hear an indelicate curse through the door, which makes me laugh.
“Oh, my god! Roman, you’re here!” Abby jumps up into my arms like a tree-hugging monkey. Her affection is as desperate as mine.
“I told you I was always with you, Hollywood.” I hold her in my arms, walking her back into the house and kicking the door shut with my foot.
“Shut up and kiss me. God, I’ve missed you so much.” Abby grabs me by my hair and starts kissing me all over. My hands are occupied cupping her ass and I’m holding her tightly as I take in the braless tank top and long sleep pants with pink flowers on them. A cute pink matching bandana covers most of her hair. I want to take it off, but my hands are occupied elsewhere. I want to pull her pants down her legs and take her, but she’s got other ideas, mauling my mouth with her delicious lips.
“Abby,” I say between peppered kisses and bites. “Abby.” I swing our bodies around and fiddle with the door until I’m satisfied it’s locked and bolted, even though her neighborhood looks nice, I’m not about to invite strangers inside. I walk with her legs wrapped around me until we’re bumping into walls, each bruise worth the bang. I drop her keys on a table somewhere, smacking my hip on the corner. Abby whacks her elbow and shoulder on the wall, grunting unladylike expletives, and I’m pretty sure we’re both going to have purple marks everywhere by tomorrow.
“Whatever. I don’t care. Down the hall.” Winded, she directs me with the poorest set of directions possible, and I’m flipping lights in the hall looking for the bedroom. I finally find a suitable bed, which I assume is hers because she isn’t protesting, and I toss her gently on the fluffy bedding.
“I care, Abigail. I care a whole damn lot,” I tell her between kisses and pulling clothes from our bodies, but it’s not about the lights or the directions. It’s her and always has been. I yank her pants down with her panties. She pulls my T-shirt up and over my head, running her hands down my chest.
I grab the bandana holding her long hair back only find her golden tresses are… well, they’re gone. I thought they were just wrapped up, but the bandana was merely covering what wasn’t there. Confusion and worry slams into me like surf on rocks. “Abby? What is this?” My fingers run through the shorn locks that now look like fat baby curls haloing her head like a cherub.
“Is it bad? I didn’t want Leah to feel alone since the treatments are so rough. I thought it was something I could share with her.” She grabs my hand and pushes curls off her forehead behind her ears. I assume this is a pretty big deal for her to cut off what probably amounted to pounds of hair. I figure hair is like a girl’s holy grail of some kind. I look at her, running my fingertips over her pale arched brows and brush the curls back. Her eyes dart nervously and she’s biting her lip, unsure.
“It’s beautiful. It’s you.” I kiss her gently and run my fingers through the locks more aware of how important my acceptance of them is to her. I’m not some guy who really gives a shit about a woman’s hair. Did I like it long? Sure I did, but I’m not an asshole to deny my girl her autonomy and the importance of what cutting her hair at a time like this means for her, for her sister, and maybe for both of us.
“You don’t care?” Glassy eyes meet mine and I brush her cheek gently. There’s a fragility in her question I don’t expect from her.
“Never cared much about hair before.” A lie, but a well-meaning one I’d never recant. I certainly don’t care about her hair since it means I have her whole and healthy in my arms. If this is the worst secret we have between us, nothing could tear us apart.
“I donated it to Locks for Love. Leah refused to take it for a wig, so we decided some kids should get it.”
“I’m proud of you, Hollywood.” And I am. She’s not that pop princess I teased her of being.
“I’ve missed this, feeling you, feeling alive.” Abby kisses me again and we struggle to get the rest of our clothes off in a hurried frenzy.
“I don’t want you to feel anything but alive.” We grunt trying to get as close as possible and under each other’s skin, rubbing our bodies together in a delicious friction that heats us from within.
“Roman Winters, I love you,” Abby pants heavily into my ear, biting the lobe with her small sharp teeth.
“I love you more than I thought possible, Abigail Holliday.” I push her back into the mattress and enter her slowly, punishing the absence between us. She whimpers and I thrust unhurriedly again, pulling back and almost leaving her body. Her hips surging upward to keep me close.
Frantically, she tightens her hold on me. “More, not like this. I want more.” She claws my shoulders and I give her more, just enough, but not all I’m holding back. “I know you’re being deliberately obtuse.” She yanks the short hair on the back of my scalp and wraps her legs around my hips, locking her ankles together.
“Be careful what you ask for, counselor,” I tell her, slamming back down, our hips meeting and grinding together. The fullness is acutely sharp and wanting.
“Yes, just like that,” Abby pleads with me, and I’m so far gone I give her everything she demands. Neither of us last long in our first reunion, and I don’t bother to untangle our limbs as we fall into an exhausted slumber.
ABIGAIL
He’s come back to me. Roman actually drove to LA from Gold Beach, just for me like he said he would. A man who keeps his promises is something new for me to experience and shame on me for doubting him in the first place. I have to catch my breath several times before I burst into tears. Loving Roman and keeping a secret from him hurts in equal parts. I want to be with him and keep nothing between us. I fear anything could tip the scale and leave me without him. Guilt and justification have been lonesome bedfellows. The past month was a painful learning experience. Lying amidst the tangled sheets with Roman’s head resting against my breasts, his warm breath tickles me and forces my nipples into hard little points. I run my fingers through his messy hair and sneak a massage of my breast most affected by his puffs of sleeping breaths against my skin.
“Mmmph, mine,” Roman growls, his body vibrates against mine and he pushes my hand away from my breast to kiss the nipple before licking it and covering it with his lips. Sucking until I’m painfully driven and flushed.
“Uhhhh.” I can’t help but moan my excitement and arousal. He sucks me hard, popping the breast from his mouth before leaning up to take the other one in for equal treatment. “Roman.” I grab him by his ears and try to get his face to my lips for a hungry kiss, but he only releases me when he’s good and ready.
“Mine to touch, mine to play with,” he sleepily says before finally kissing me. A knee pushes my legs apart and I feel his cock lengthen against my belly, seeking and pushing forward. He slides against the wetness between my eager thighs in fluid-seeking strokes.
“Yours, only yours,” I assure him and we make lo
ve slowly and reverently—his forehead against mine, fingers threaded in my short hair holding me steady for each pounding thrust of his thick cock. My inner muscles squeeze to hold onto him through the friction. Our eyes lock on each other, not looking away once. I can’t bring myself to close my eyes for fear I’ll miss something. We cry out together and climax on a sweet roller coaster of emotions, riding the high back down to the quiet lull. I’m prepared to give up everything to spend my days with Roman just like this forever.
Spending the day in bed, I text the office manager to say I won’t be coming in. I have an appointment with Oscar Campbell to go over his statement and damn if I just want to forget how deeply sucked in I am to this. Roman is finally here and I want to be greedy and take what I can of our time together. It’s the first day I’ve taken off from my twelve to sixteen hour days since I returned. My billable hours are through the roof working my cases, and I don’t give a shit if the world ends tonight from my momentary lapse. My phone rings off the hook for a bit until Roman picks it up, texting who I can only assume is Lucas before shutting it off and tossing it back on the nightstand to be forgotten.
“Who was it?”
Roman grunts a response before peeling the sheets back, kissing his way down my sensitive stomach. “Were you nice to him?” I query a smirking Roman between my thighs.
“Depends on your definition of nice.” He hugs me tight around my legs and lower, I laugh and wiggle out of his grasp, reaching for a robe to put on.
“Let’s go find some food, sailor.” I slap his butt and he grabs me again, rolling me on the bed.
“I got my sweet breakfast right here.” He tickles me, slipping the robe back off. Loud smacking kisses on my neck and a feast of nipped skin and I am easily relenting into Roman’s embrace.
“Roman!”
“Shhh…I’m believe I said I would spanking you until you couldn’t sit for days, Hollywood.” The thought is a naughty one and Roman pulls me over his lap easily with no resistance.
“Because of a text message?” I look over my shoulder, a curl flopping over my brow.
“Because I hate when you hold back.” Roman’s eyes darken and a deep well inside of me feels like I deserve some sort of punishment because I am holding back. Because I have too. It’s not that I wouldn’t be into something kinky with Roman, but this feels tainted with something else. Something I’ve brought to the table by keeping a secret from him, one that will turn his world upside down.
“Do your worst.” I know better than to challenge a cranky, horny man when the first resounding spank lands on my ass. Tempered with feeling so good, I take my punishment as a lesson learned.
“I’m going to enjoy this, princess.” Part of me hopes he does, and less than five rousing spanks later, Roman covers me from behind. His body over mine and my skin hot and prickly from the heat of his hand over my flesh. Our skin feels more abrasive rubbing against each other, mine more sensitive. My brain is caught between absolute consent with his playfulness because none of it really hurts and the knowledge I’ve done something horribly wrong.
“I have hated every moment we’ve been apart.” A heavy whisper of hot sweet breath fills my ear as tears prick my eyes. His cock wedges between my legs and my juices lubricate his rough entry. The tip barely penetrating me and already the fit is tight but not unpleasant. A gush of wetness from my core drenches him and I hear him groan as he pushes against me. I push back, desiring the same thing.
It’s carnal and I let him take me again the way he wants to, slightly rough but still restrained. My tissues stretch to take him from this angle. Each powerful thrust exposes me more to Roman. My heart beats hard the staccato rhythm, drowning out any other thought besides meeting our pleasure together in a tangle of limbs and grunts our skin slapping together and my cries for him to never stop. I’d never need another high priced cardio workout with Roman in my life.
Chapter Nineteen
ROMAN
Eventually, I let Abby escape from the bedroom for a shower. I collect the food in my cooler from the car, which, thankfully, is still cold. As Hollywood emerges from the bathroom, her skin warm and damp, I pull her into my lap and stick a spoonful of pie under her nose until she open’s her mouth.
“Oh, my god,” she mumbles between bites, licks, and all manner of sexy moans while eating from me. “What is that?”
“Turtle pie. You are the only person I’ve ever shared it with. Maddie makes it and guards the recipe with her life.”
“It’s crazy good.” I swear Abby was about to say orgasmic mid spoonful rolling her blue eyes back, damn her. “Give me another bite.” Her mouth is full and chewing around the delicious food of the gods as she speaks.
“Oh no, that was all I’m sharing.” I smile, but I’m shocked by the wicked gleam in Abby’s eyes as she slides down from the chair onto her knees between mine.
“Are you sure I can’t entice you to share another bite, perhaps?” Yeah, she was definitely going to say orgasmic. This homecoming was worth the wait. She runs her hands over my thighs suggestively and bites her bottom lip, pouting.
“Abigail,” I warn her. It’s bad enough I feel like a bomb ready to detonate anytime I’m in her presence.
“Roman,” she mocks me in a stern voice and slips her deft little finger under my boxers, grabbing me fully and rubbing a finger over the head of my dick slowly. I swallow a groan, wondering what my little minx will actually do.
“Tread carefully, counselor.” I almost choke on my words as her finger traces the slit of my cock and a bead of fluid makes her finger slip back down to the root.
“Oh, I plan to, but first I want that pie.” She leans up and kisses me, her teeth pulling on my lip and licking the slight sting away. Her finger nails scrape gently and my balls pull up from the pressure of her grip. Our lips mix in a caramel chocolate kiss, desire flaming.
“No pie,” I grunt into her confused face.
“You wouldn’t dare.” A shocked expression fills her hungry eyes.
“Actually, if I’m not mistaken, I still owe you another spanking for holding out on me in the first place.” I grab her by her shoulders, pulling her up and over my lap.
“Another…” An unreadable expression crosses her face and her eyes narrow with a twisted smile. I’ve spanked her once, but I kind of liked it more than I thought I would, and the resulting sex was hot—hotter than I imagined. She looks ready to both run and surrender at the same time, telling me she liked it just as much as I did. “Roman Winters, don’t you dare!” she yells as I give her a sharp wallop on her behind.
“Hmm, still not getting the message, Ms. Holliday. I think these pants are in my way. I slip the sleep pants over her tan cheeks, rubbing the soft mounds under my palm.
“You’ll regret this, Roman.” Smack. I give her behind another tap. She’s squirming in my lap and I rub the heat from her cheek, my dick now pressed against her soft belly. Smack. The vibrations turn me on as well.
“Yeah, but not nearly as much as I should.” She’s struggling, but not to get away and our playful exchange becomes something else entirely different. Each spank has her moaning and the heat of her pink skin turns me on a little more than the last.
“Please, Roman.” I pick her up and settle her in my lap; her rear rubs against me, invitingly fitting me to places I crave to go.
“Now you may have all the pie you like.” I scoop a finger of caramel and chocolate and Abby’s eyes glaze over with want. Her lids lower, covering her beautiful eyes as her lips slowly grip around my finger, sucking and licking the sweet pie. When she’s done, we kiss deliberately and begin shucking clothes off. She positions her body over mine, and that’s how we christened the kitchen.
ABIGAIL
We’re meeting my sister and Lucas at Long Beach Harbor where Roman sold one of his fancy boats to a guy who owns a hotel chain in Vegas. I don’t know all of the particulars, but the boat is moored at the marina and he’s graciously agreed to let us take it out for
the day with a full crew. I feel like this is a good icebreaker to introduce Roman to my sister.
“So I don’t want to be an ass and say something I shouldn’t, is there anything I need to know?” Roman sits in the passenger seat, leaning back as I drive down the 710 directly toward the marina.
“I’m pretty sure Leah will let you know if you’re being an ass, but she’s surprisingly open with her cancer diagnosis.” The sun is bright and I’m driving my car with the top down. It’s a hot, clear day for October. The last time we were on a boat, our trip was cut short, so I’m looking forward to this time with Roman.
“Am I still not allowed to throw douche-canoe overboard?”
Laughing, I shrug because it’s an apt description of Lucas. “Roman, you’re the captain. You can do whatever the fuck you want on your boat.” I glance over at him and he nods at me to keep my eyes on the road.
“Technically, I’m not the captain today, but I think I will christen the yacht with your sweet ass, Abby.”
I shiver thinking about all the delicious ways I want Roman to take me and push the one remaining chink in the armor deep down. His arm reaches over the headrest of the seat and plays with my shorn curls as we continue driving south.
Pulling up to the marina, we meet Lucas and Leah sitting in my sister’s convertible, the top also down.
“Hey, Abs!” Lucas gets out of the car like he owns it and does nothing to help my sister, who’s still weak from a chemo treatment, out of the car. Instead, Roman walks over and opens her door, offering his arm to her. None of this surprises me and I don’t understand what I saw in Lucas to begin with.
“You jackass.” I hit him in the chest and walk over to my sister and Roman, who have already made their introductions. Lucas just stands the obliviously.