His crack of laughter competed with the rumble of the deluge pounding on the roof. “Oh, Abby.” He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the delightful aromas of cocoa butter lotion, dryer sheets, and clean, clear jungle rain. “Only you could possibly believe that.” And, then, the idiot in his pants finally took notice of the fact that her skirt-covered bottom was pressing down on it. A telltale rush of blood surged to his groin.
His thoughts instantly turned from the past to the present. From old hurts and misunderstandings to new possibilities. He loved her. She admitted to adoring him—which wasn’t exactly the same as dropping the L-bomb, but it was close, right? Right. And the storm was probably going to rage for at least another hour. So he had a minimum of sixty minutes to finally, finally do the things to her in reality that he’d been doing to her in his fantasies for nearly a decade.
It wasn’t going to be enough. Not nearly enough. But it was a start. And for now, it’d have to do. He turned his face slightly, whispering in her ear, “I wanted you Abby. I wanted you then. I want you now. Let me have you.”
* * *
Abby’s body thrilled at his nearness, at his hot breath whispering in her ear. But her heart ached with sadness. Oh, how she wished she could give him what he wanted. But, if she let him have her without him first knowing what had happened, her part in what had happened, it would be another deception. And she was finished with lies. Finished with secrets.
She’d wanted to wait. Wait until they were somewhere safe. Somewhere he wouldn’t think twice about heading for the door and leaving her behind. But, unfortunately, the time for her confession had come…
“Carlos,” she whispered, her breath shuddering when he flicked his tongue into her ear. Her toes curled at the warm, wet intrusion. Her sex throbbing when her mind conjured up the image of him sticking it somewhere much more intimate. “There’s something you need to know about—Oh, God!”
His hand had traveled under her tunic. His big, callused fingers finding her nipple and pinching gently. She felt that caress from her breast all the way down to her clitoris. The little bundle of nerves tingled violently with every skillful pluck of his fingers.
No. No! She couldn’t give in to the pleasure he pressed on her, to the hot demand of his mouth when his lips landed atop hers. She turned her head, panting. Dizzy. “There’s something I have to tell you, something you have to know.”
“Not now, Abby,” he groaned, taking her hand and placing it over his distended fly. She’d felt the twitch of his big thigh muscles beneath her bottom, noticed the subtle trembling of his solid arms around her, but that was nothing compared to the throb of his hardened length against her palm. So big. So hot. So tempting. It took everything she had not to curl her fingers around him. “I want you too badly.” He bit the flesh over her throat, his teeth a gentle, stinging reminder of the power he kept in check. Her breath huffed from her lungs in a stuttering exhale. Her brain went fuzzy with passion, with pleasure. “I’ve wanted you for too long. I need you to let me—”
“But you wouldn’t want me if—”
“God, Abby,” he implored her, flipping her onto her back against the mat, wedging his hips between her thighs and stroking against her. Her eyes crossed and threatened to roll back in her head. “Please, please. Let me have you. Let me show you all the things I’ve been dreaming of showing you since you were eighteen.”
Sonofa—! This man. This man was killing her. And in that moment, for one split second, she allowed herself to revel in her own glorious death.
“B-but the—” she began, only to lose her words on a gasp as he stroked forward again. The cotton of her skirt was deliciously abrasive, damp from the deluge and from her body’s excitement.
“Don’t worry,” he said between kisses against her throat. “We have a while. Long enough, I think. And the rain will drown out our cries.”
Their cries…
Holy cannoli! Just the thought of Carlos throwing his head back, crying out her name as an orgasm burst through him, as he poured his lust inside her, made her blood pop and fizz like it was carbonated.
“I hurt, Abby,” he breathed against her lips. She opened her eyes to find him looming over her, his palms braced on either side of her head, his shoulders bulging with the strain of holding himself aloft. Black hair fell across his forehead and his midnight eyes sparkled in the dim light, imploring her even more than his words. “I hurt so badly from wanting you. Let me have you.”
And in that moment she knew she’d give him anything. She may hate herself later, and he would certainly hate her later. But right here and right now she would let him have, let him take, anything he wanted. Swallowing down the ache at the back of her throat, refusing to let the tears pricking behind her eyes fall, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled his mouth down to hers, whispering against his lips, “Okay, Carlos. Take me…”