by Allison Parr
He shook his head and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “But I’m right. You did wait for me.”
“No, I just—” I swallowed. “I trust you. And I have...very deep and long-lasting feelings toward you. So, do I want you to be the first person I have sex with? Yeah.” I shot him an arch look as payback for the never-never comment. “My roommates think it will get you out of my system.”
His jaw firmed up, and in an instant he had pulled me flush against his body and kissed me so intensely all thought fled my mind, replaced with a perfect storm of heat and desire. His mouth played a symphony of pleasure against mine. It reverberated throughout my entire body until I was weak and clung to him.
When he raised his head, he was smiling in satisfaction, and I was utterly breathless. “What was that?”
“That,” he said, “was to let you know that you will never get me out of your system, Tamar Rosenfeld.”
For a moment I just stared at him, and then I pulled him down to me, devouring him. He met me in stride, and we fell back against the pillows. Suspended like that, his arms braced on either side of me and his hair falling into his eyes, he looked like an angel. Though the way he played my body was anything but angelic, and sinful pleasure flowed through my body.
Pressure built in me, an unceasing ache between my legs, a burning in my core. Abraham kissed me harder, his mouth bruising mine, taking everything until I writhed on the sheets, my only sensation of silk and skin. His hand ran up my body, caressing my hip and trailing across my stomach until he took hold of my breast in a massaging grip that left me moaning in painful desire as he stroked my flesh. “Please,” I begged, the word nothing more than a gasp. “Please.”
His mouth lowered to my other breast and drew my nipple in. It was a terrible, erotic torture—the heat and firmness of his tongue and lips, the aching pain of his teeth. I wanted everything. My fingers tangled in his sand-streaked hair and I arched my back to bring us closer. I could feel his desire hard against me, and his size and strength simultaneously scared me and drove me mad. I pulled him back to my mouth for another soul-deep kiss, a meeting and melding that left me shaking.
I wrapped my legs around him. “Please.”
He groaned and pushed closer. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I need you.”
He pushed himself up on his forearms and stared down at me. He gleamed with sweat and desire, and his eyes took up his whole face, painfully beautiful. “Are you sure?”
“Abraham,” I begged, rocking against him. My hands pulled at his shoulders and my feet slid against his calves. “I need you. Now.”
He pressed a hot, mind-blowing kiss to my neck and lowered himself slowly into me.
He was so much, so large, and I had never done anything like this before. I could feel my body stretching painfully to accommodate him. My fingers raked down his back, dragging against his skin as I opened my mouth wide. I was on fire, I was nothing, I was everything. He moved down with excruciating slowness, and I let out a long gasp that quickly accelerated into shuddering, moaning cries. I dug into his shoulders and my head fell back as a slice of pain cut through me. My nails cut into his muscles. Oh, God. This was everything. I lay there in perfect stillness, trying to just breathe, just understand. He pressed his mouth to the base of my neck, his breathing labored. “I can stop if you want.”
“No.” I moved tentatively and shivers of pleasure rocked through me. “Oh, God.”
He groaned, as if it was too much. “Tamar, don’t move if you don’t want me to lose control.”
I kissed him greedily. “I want you.” I bucked experimentally, and the desire that spiraled out made me greedy for more.
He groaned, and then withdrew slightly and slowly buried himself back in me, sending liquid pleasure through me, heat that coiled and spun, forming connections of building desire that I couldn’t quite grasp. I rocked against him, faster, harder.
And then he lost control, wild now, plunging and plummeting, so quickly that we were both ablaze. There was no control anymore, no anything, just the fierce dance of our bodies, the beat, the rhythm, the everything, and I wanted more and more and I was blind except for him, it had always been him, and it would always be him—
He let out a great shout, a great noise that ripped from his throat. And then I felt the crystalline desire break me apart, a shattering of tension, bringing a great, crashing wave of pleasure and relief that lost the world to me. There was no world. Only the forever of the night and the brightness of the moon, carrying me on a dizzying rush through the stars. I was awash in desire and joy and happiness, aware of only one thing.
Only Abraham.
* * *
Sometime later, I curled into his side and smiled. “Guess what?”
He smiled back at me, that perfect expression of tenderness and steadiness that he always regarded me with. “What?”
“Turned out I liked that.”
His brows rose. “Enough for a round two?”
I straddled him and pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw. “You better believe it. In fact, I may never leave this bed again.”
He laughed, and pulled me down.
* * *
We actually didn’t leave the apartment until Sunday morning, which was the day of Briana and Malcolm’s wedding.
We woke early and headed over to my apartment, since I’d spent that last twenty-four hours mainly naked, and figured it wouldn’t be totally appropriate to wear one of Abe’s jerseys.
My roommates, who had ascertained where I was Saturday morning for safety purposes, still raised their brows when I walked inside, followed by Abe in a suit.
None of them said anything, but they definitely smirked.
I really only owned two nice dresses—the one I’d worn my first day of work, which was boring, and the red one—but Sabeen had promised to lend me one. When I stepped into her room, she arched a brow. “So?”
I shrugged and grinned. I wasn’t positive, but I was pretty certain I hadn’t stopped grinning since Friday night. “So it was good. We’re good. Abe and me.”
Her other brow flew up to join the first. “You two hadn’t before?”
I shook my head. “Actually, um—actually I hadn’t at all before.”
She broke out in a sudden grin. “Are you sore?”
“Well, yes,” I said dryly. “That is the one unfortunate thing.”
But even that couldn’t keep my smile away.
I ended up in a plum-colored dress with a sheer black high neckline. Abe told me I looked beautiful.
I wondered if he always thought I looked beautiful, rather like I always thought he did. It was a nice thought.
I’d never been to a peer’s wedding before. When I thought on it, I’d never actually been to a Christian wedding before, just several of my parents’ friends when I was a kid. They were all hippies, and I couldn’t remember a white dress between the lot.
Wedding season for the NFL rarely lined up with wedding season for the rest of the world, since they had so little downtime. The saying went that there was no off-season in football, just the time when games were played and the time when they weren’t. Football players got a little time off after the Super Bowl, and a whole handful of marriages started then.
But Briana Harris wanted a winter wedding.
Malcolm hailed from Kentucky and Briana from California, so they decided to have the wedding in New York. Which was convenient, since they’d apparently invited the entire Leopards team and everyone who worked with them.
The wedding and receptions were both held at the Central Park Boathouse. Bright floor-to-ceiling windows let in light. There was a strange beauty to winter that I still wasn’t used to, especially the way the clouds streaked across the cold blue sky, the way the cold light managed to be stunning, the way the blankets of snow sparkled like diamonds and topped the barren branches like exquisite art.
Rachael Hamilton dropped down in the pew next to me. “Pretty
day, huh?”
“I like the snow much better from the inside.”
She laughed. “I forgot you were from California. So’s Bri, you know. I have no idea why she wanted a winter wedding.”
“Technically, it’s still fall.”
She snorted. “It’s winter from November to April here. March, if you’re lucky.”
I peered at her. “You live a very sad life, here in the northeast.”
She waved a hand. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else. But you—what made you move here?”
“My job.”
“Not Abe?”
I raised my brow. “We weren’t really speaking when I moved here.”
She nodded. She’d clearly already known that. “It’s funny that you guys weren’t speaking for so long when you get along so well.”
“Are you quizzing me on me and Abe?”
She grinned. It made her look like a sprite. “Normally it’s Bri’s job, but she’s a little busy right now.”
I smiled despite myself. “I don’t suppose we can skip to the important questions?”
“Oh, sure. I’m a very accommodating interrogator. How about a nosy one?”
My smile broadened. “Can I stop you?”
“No,” she said comfortably. “Though you can say I’m being unbearably rude and refuse to answer.”
“Go for it.”
“You and Abe knew each other when you were in high school, right? Why didn’t you ever date then?”
I considered the view. “I don’t think I knew I who I was, then.”
She nodded as though the answer satisfied her. “And do you now?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Good. I think it’s important to know who you are if you’re going to date one of these guys. Because they know their role so clearly—it’s important you know your own, if you don’t want to end up being a sidekick or a reflection.”
I smiled. “And you say this to every player’s new girlfriend?”
She tilted her head. “But you’re not a new girlfriend, not really. You’re settled in.”
I stared at her. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “Abe doesn’t usually get in deep. Like ever.”
“What does that mean? How do you know?”
“I know because he’s one of my best guy friends. And because I’ve never seen him... I think I already told you that Abe is great at talking about other people, but not himself. And certainly not his relationships. I tried to pry out info on you and it was so useless my boyfriend finally dragged me away. But Abe seems more relaxed with you than I’ve ever seen him. He lights up with you. That’s different.”
“You tried to pry out info on me?”
She threw her hands up in the air. “And it was useless!”
I laughed, and so did she, and that was how Abraham and Ryan found us a few minutes later. It seemed to alarm both of them, which clearly delighted Rachael.
It kind of delighted me, too, actually. I snuggled up to Abe when he sat down on my other side. “I like Rachael.”
He looked alarmed. “Rachael’s not altogether sane, you know.”
“Well, neither am I. So I suppose we’ll be good friends.”
He groaned. “Just what I need.”
I kissed him.
I liked being able to kiss him whenever I wanted to.
The ceremony was beautiful. I doubted Briana Harris had ever looked anything less than beautiful her entire life, but she positively dazzled today. She wore a strapless gown with a sweeping train. The bridesmaids all wore plum purple. For all that it was clearly an expensive wedding, it was relaxed and fluid. Ryan stood as best man. The five-year-old ring bearer decided he’d rather nap halfway down the aisle.
But even so, in the grand scheme of things, everything went off without a hitch. The bride glowed, the groom looked like he’d won the lottery and wasn’t sure how.
At the reception, we sat at the same table as Mike and Natalie, Dylan and Keith and their dates. When the music started, I pulled Abe out onto the dance floor. I almost giggled at all these huge men, so graceful and powerful on the field, and some of them without a clue how to dance.
Briana was a good dancer. Natalie was graceful. Rachael was the same level of bad as me, which meant we bobbed around with Bri’s teenage sisters and sang the words to songs loud and off-key. Rachael smiled at me approvingly. “Oh, you’re not bad. You can come to karaoke night.”
“Are you kidding me? I can’t hold a tune!”
She threw back her head and laughed. “But you’re singing anyways, and that’s the whole point of karaoke.”
At the first slow dance, Abe whirled me away from the others. I leaned my head against his chest. “I like your friends.”
“You mean the crazy girls?”
“Yeah. They’re fun. I like the guys, too, but they’re usually a little aware I’m a reporter.” I pulled my head up, remembering something. “A few weeks ago, I was asking some of the guys about pregame rituals.”
He spun me out under his arm, and then back into his embrace. “Were you?”
“Yes. And they had something very funny to say about yours.” I tilted my head up. “That before each game, you get fined for wearing a bracelet.”
A warm, teasing smile lit his face. “That’s right.”
Bubbles started filling my chest. “And why do you do it?”
His hands were warm on the small of my back, and they swayed me back and forth in small circles as we flowed across the dance floor. “Well, you see, this girl made me a bracelet once.”
“A bracelet that girl may have once seen abandoned on your mother’s desk. What suddenly made it important?”
He outright grinned. “That may be right. But, you know, this girl had guts. And belief. She believed in me more than anyone else ever did, and she put herself out there. Bravest person I ever met, especially at a time when I needed to be brave.”
I stopped dancing, but we remained in the middle of all the other couples. I tilted my face up, almost close enough to kiss. “What does that mean?”
He was serious but not without humor. “It means I was moving across the country to a miserably cold city where I had no friends and everyone seemed together, and I was a clueless rookie on a team with legends. I needed to remember that someone believed in me. That someone had the courage to go after what she wanted, and that I needed to do the same.”
I dropped the pronoun. “I didn’t know that’s how you viewed it.”
“Tamar.” He brushed his lips against mine. “You’ve always been the most amazing person I know.”
I leaned my head back against his chest. I wasn’t sure if that was true.
But he’d kept my bracelet. That had to count for something.
Chapter Eighteen
That Thursday, before I’d really registered it, it was Thanksgiving.
And the Leopards weren’t playing, like they had two years ago. And neither of our families were celebrating out of town.
Which meant that Abe and I would both be in Burlingame, at Thanksgiving dinner, together.
I met him for lunch on Tuesday. It was the one day he had off from practice, and it was also the least busy of my week; deadline wasn’t yet upon us, and we’d caught up from the weekend work the day before. Well, at least in theory. In practice, this week was a little busier as so many of us would be out of the office.
Still, I stole away for half an hour with Abe.
We met at a Lenny’s nearby, and he graciously bought my bagel. I watched with a smile. “What a gentleman.”
He delivered it with a flourish. “I live to serve.”
I raised my brows and ran my foot up his leg, and was delighted when his eyes darkened.
But then he dealt me a firm, we-need-to-have-a-discussion look. “Okay. What are we going to do about our parents?”
I smeared the cream cheese across my poppy-seed halves. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I talked to my mom la
st night.”
“Yeah?”
“She wanted to set me up with Jenna Perlman’s cousin.”
“Jenna Perlman from schul? No way. She used to hog all the cookies.”
He sounded amused. “Well, it would be her cousin, not her.”
“If she’s anything like Jenna, you wouldn’t get along.” I noticed the pointed look he aimed my way. “What?”
“You have to tell your mom, or I’m telling mine.”
The idea of telling my mother hit me like an impossibility to be avoided at all costs. “Abe.”
“I know. But we have to.”
“We do not.”
He raised his brows. “We’re just never going to tell them?”
“Abraham. They will have the temple booked and the invitations out within the week. Worse, my mom is going to have opinions.”
He laughed down at me. “What does that mean?”
I waved a hand expressively. “You know. About how we interact. She’ll be like, ‘Well, Abe never empties the dishwasher, so be prepared to empty it for the rest of your life.’”
His brow scrunched up. “What does that even mean? I do too empty the dishwasher.”
“No.” I shook my head emphatically. “You don’t. Never have. I know it. Your mother knows it. My mother knows it.”
His eyes widened and flickered in thought. “I don’t believe you. I...do do the dishes.”
I placed an appeasing hand on his. “That is true. You simply don’t empty it. It’s okay, I don’t mind. Yet. I just mind hearing about it from my mother.”
He groaned. “Well, my mom’s going to want to know if you’re pregnant, so there’s that.”
“Mazel tov,” I muttered.
He leaned in and braced his elbows on the table. I mirrored him, and our knees bumped each other, our foreheads bent close. “Okay. We gotta have a plan.”
“I have a plan.”
“Yeah?” His brows rose. “Which is...?”
“We wait at least one week.”
“And why’s that?”
Boys. “You do realize that for the next several days we will be at the mercy of our families.” I stretched my arms above my head. “And I can’t think of much worse than the combined forces of our mothers in matrimonial fever.”