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Dead End Road Page 7
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His surprise must have shown, because Abby laughed. “Don’t pay any attention to that. It’s just my murder board.”
“Uh, yeah, guess no home’s complete without one.” The board said things like “Ways to kill Jenny: transdermal poison, ice pick between vertebrae C2/C3, fall down stairs?” The part that said “fall down stairs” was crossed out with “too uncertain” written below it.
“No mystery writer’s home, at any rate.” She sat in one of the armchairs, still grinning at him. “The pieces of the book show up in my head whenever they feel like it, and I need a place to write them down. I tried a notebook, but it works better if they’re visible all the time. Parts of my brain are constantly working through the details instead of only when I go looking for them.”
“I get it, but if I see my name on there, I’m going to be concerned.”
“No worries. You promised not to kill me, so I won’t kill you back.” She plucked a sandwich wrapper from the end table, wadded it up, and tossed it toward an already-full wastebasket. She missed, but didn’t give it a second glance. “Are you hungry? I think I have some chicken in the fridge.”
Seth agreed a snack wouldn’t be unwelcome, and they headed back downstairs. She pulled chicken and potato salad from the refrigerator, added some biscuits, poured a glass of white wine from a half-full bottle, and presented him with a fresh beer.
“Mom brought this by yesterday. She believes I’ll waste away if she doesn’t feed me.”
“Why would she think that?”
“Because I tend to forget to eat when I’m writing, and after the divorce, she watched me lose thirty pounds. I told her I needed to lose it. I’d gained at least that much in those three years.”
They took their plates to the breakfast bar. Seth decided to ask about her marriage. He was burning with curiosity about what kind of man Abby had married, and what happened. She already mentioned being divorced twice, so it must not be a forbidden topic.
In response to his question, Abby told him about the period of time in which she’d lost both her father and her marriage, and his heart went out to her. He also had a strong urge to pummel her ex-husband. At one point he noticed a haunted expression flicker across her face and felt there was even more to the story, but she wasn’t yet ready to talk about it.
“No wonder you felt like your life was falling apart.” He wished he could do something to take those bad memories away from her.
“It was rough. Dad gave me this property before he died, like he knew how much I needed it. He and Mom planned to build here someday, but she didn’t want to be out here alone after he was gone. I always loved it more than my sister did, so he gave it to me and gave her his boat and camper. She lives in Kentucky. She and her husband and kids get a lot of use out of them.”
“This place means a lot to you,” Seth ventured, hoping she’d tell him more.
“You bet it does. It’s the only thing I’ve ever had that’s really mine, and I don’t know how I’d have survived those first few years without it.”
“I envy you. I have a place in Austin, but I’m not there enough for it to feel like more than a rest stop.” Seth wasn’t sure he’d ever had a “home” since he left Montana. Why hadn’t he realized that before?
“People have started pointing out I’ve become a bit of a hermit, but this is a tough place to leave.” She emptied her plate in the trash and placed it in the dishwasher. Leaning against the sink, she sipped her wine.
When Seth’s plate was empty, Abby led him to the living room. While she tuned a satellite radio, keeping the volume low, he admired the long column of her spine framed by the open back of the halter top, and imagined tracing it top to bottom with his tongue. Or bottom to top. Either way.
Abby flipped a switch on the wall, and the fireplace added a warm glow to the room. “Go ahead and relax,” she told him. “I want to go change.”
Abby departed for her bedroom, and Seth took his duffel bag into the bathroom. He tucked his denim shirt and shoes into the bag. He dragged his comb through his hair, before putting the comb and his shaving kit on the shelf over the sink. Back on the sofa, he considered his conflicting desires and emotions. He knew bringing him home indicated a very good chance they’d end up in bed, but he cautioned himself not to assume it would be tonight. He was definitely voting for tonight, but he sensed this was too important, and everything had to be right. He wasn’t used to thinking this way, and it was getting on his nerves.
Abby returned, wearing gray yoga shorts and a thin, pale pink tank top clinging to her breasts in a most delightful way. She retrieved her wine glass from the coffee table and curled against his side.
With her legs tucked up beside her, he noticed a vivid peacock quill tattoo on her calf, poised above the scripted words I Write. He wouldn’t have guessed Abby had a tattoo. Further evidence he was going to enjoy unpuzzling this particularly enticing puzzle.
He wanted nothing more than to spend the entire night uncovering and exploring every bit of her, savoring each delicious second. Yet he didn’t want to push her. Somehow, he had to show her while her body was driving him to distraction, she was already more than that to him.
Abby’s hand on his arm jolted him back into the moment. She looked up at him, the firelight’s soft shadows playing across her face. “You look like you’re thinking about something important,” she said.
“Us.” It was the only word currently on his mind.
“You know, it’s crazy,” she said, shaking her head slowly in wonder. “When I was sitting right here this morning having my coffee, there was no ‘us,’ but here we are.”
“And at the same time, I was trying to sleep on the bus from Chicago, listening to Marsh snore.” It was kind of mind-boggling.
She stretched her legs out alongside his, and turned more fully into his embrace. “I don’t pretend to know why the Universe does stuff, but everything so far since Molly called this morning led us right here. So, no overanalyzing or worrying. Not tonight.” He thought she was talking to herself as much as to him.
He brushed her hair from the side of her face, his hand lingering under its silken sable weight. Her lips looked so full and inviting, and he brought her face to his. He deepened the kiss, losing himself in the tang of wine and sugared vanilla, a taste uniquely hers.
She reached under his shirt, her fingers warm across his stomach and moving up to his chest, leaving a trail of surging nerve endings in their wake. She returned his kisses hungrily, and he was already as hard as he ever remembered being.
He lifted his hand to explore her breasts through the thin fabric of her top, and found her nipples already straining for his touch. He shifted to angle her hips more tightly against him, while he redirected his explorations under her shirt, feeling her breast swell in response. He cupped its weight in his palm and played his thumb over her nipple, eliciting a throaty sigh. He loved the way she felt as she clung to him, and her responses excited him almost more than he could bear.
Her hands were once again under his shirt, gliding over his chest, teasing the scattering of hair she found there. She seemed to reach some sort of decision, broke their kiss, and pulled herself up on her elbow. She tugged upward on the hem of his shirt. He took this to mean he should make it disappear, so he did. He must have been right, because her shirt chased his to the floor, and she guided him onto his back and stretched out over him. Her hand brushed over his unshaven cheek as she looked into his eyes before returning to their kiss.
This was so much more than Seth felt he had any right to hope for, but he couldn’t help wanting more. He burned for her, for everything she was willing to give. The feel of her breasts pressed against him was making him crazy. The weight of her lower body was resting on his pelvis, which wasn’t helping. Well, it was helping a lot, but not in terms of retaining any scrap of self-control. He was so close to losing it altogether, sending their remaining clothes to join the shirts on the floor and rolling her beneath him, that he shifted
her upward, straddling his waist.
This had the benefit of raising her breasts into the perfect position for maximum enjoyment. He made the most of it, kneading gently at first, then more firmly as she responded, arching her back to present them more fully for his ministrations. Her nipples were dark coral in the firelight, contracted to tight buds. He drew her down and took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the taut flesh before trapping the tip between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. She made a small, desperate whimpering sound, her fingers twining through his hair. He switched his attention to the other breast, and felt her heart pounding under his hands.
He needed to touch more of her, all of her, and rolled until they were side by side, facing each other. He paused to catch his breath and caressed the smooth skin of her back, taking in her tousled hair and flushed cheeks. Her eyes had a half-lidded, dreamy glaze, telling him she was as caught up in this as he was. She was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.
Still, some gentlemanly trait he had not previously been aware of possessing compelled him to say, “Abby, darlin’, this can be as much or as little as you’re ready for, okay? I want you so much I have to think really hard just to blink. But like you said, this morning you didn’t even know me.”
“Oh, you really are insane, aren’t you?” She slid her hand across his zipper, causing his erection to strain even harder against the confining denim.
“Probably. Yeah, I’m pretty sure. I need to make sure you know this is your call.” He had to think frigid thoughts to get the words out. This was next to impossible with her hand where it was.
“I know that. Now, less talking, more touching.”
Seth had absolutely no argument. He buried his face in her neck, and breathed in her warm, floral scent, before returning to plunder her willing, kiss-swollen lips. Touching was something he could definitely manage. He skimmed his hand along her waist and over her hip and dipped under the waistband of her shorts.
She had foregone wearing anything under the shorts, and he thought his body temperature spiked about four degrees at the discovery. He encountered a small patch of coarse curls, but everything else in the region was slick and smooth. This woman was going to drive him out of his mind.
She shifted her position to give him better access, a sure sign of encouragement if he’d ever seen one. He slid his finger along her cleft, teasing his way through the slick inner folds. She made a sound deep in her throat, and he felt her opening to him. He eased one finger inside her, then two, astounded at the flood of wet heat welcoming him. He moved his fingers, and her hips moved to match his pace. His thumb brushed the swollen bud at her nexus with each stroke.
Her breath quickened, and he almost gasped out loud himself when she unfastened his jeans and began caressing him in a matching rhythm. But were they moving too fast? Could there be any such thing when he wanted her so fiercely?
With strength of will he didn’t believe he possessed, he removed his lips from hers, though he did leave his hand in her shorts. Seth figured you could only expect so much from a guy, after all.
As if reading his mind, Abby whispered, “I don’t want this to be over yet.”
“I know. I mean, I do and I don’t.”
“Exactly.”
“Time for a breather.”
“Yeah,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve breathed in at least twenty minutes.”
Seth reluctantly withdrew, and she sat up and retrieved their drinks from the table. He noted with great pleasure she didn’t reach for her discarded shirt. As she handed his drink to him, he saw a bright shimmer in her eyes, and realized she was also experiencing everything between them on an emotional level as much as a sexual one. While it complicated everything for both of them, he was sure it was better. Yes, definitely better. Unless you asked a certain part of his anatomy, which raged with displeasure.
They were curled on the couch when Abby traced the tattoo of the band’s logo on his back.
“Don’t laugh, but I actually thought about getting the logo too.”
“I don’t know if that would have been really profound or really creepy right now.”
“Me either, so I’m glad I didn’t get it.”
Seth chuckled and kissed her, still enjoying the feel of her bare breasts against his side. His erection was finally subsiding, and he hadn’t felt this at ease with anybody for far too long. He finished his beer, then noticed Abby’s glass was empty too, and her eyes were threatening to drift shut. He took the glass and placed it on the table and took her hand.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” She became completely still and made no move to leave the sofa. “No, darlin’. Just sleep, okay?”
“Okay,” she murmured drowsily. She walked with him to her bedroom, leaving the discarded tank top under the coffee table. He turned down the blankets, and she slid into bed with a sigh.
He made a quick trip to the living room to put the bottle and glass in the kitchen. He turned off the fireplace and radio before returning to Abby’s bedside. He paused, unsure whether he should join her or make his way to the other bedroom, possibly by way of an icy shower. Abby must have sensed his hesitation, because she reached for him and said, “No, stay.”
Seth took off his jeans and slipped into bed beside her, gathering her in his arms. “I’ll stay as long as you let me,” he said softly. But she was already asleep. As he held her, the single word thundering through his mind and resonating in every cell of his body was “mine.” He wondered what that meant, but suspected he already knew.
Chapter Five
Abby
Abby opened her eyes to the first blush of dawn peeking in her bedroom window. While it was unusual for her to wake this early, the arm draped over her waist was completely unprecedented. She rolled over, careful not to disturb the arm and the person connected to it. She saw Seth sleeping beside her, and took a moment to savor this spectacular sight.
Seth Caldwell was here. In her bed.
She placed her head on the pillow beside his and studied the way her own dark hair contrasted with his golden-brown strands in the early morning light. She could really get used to this, but her problem remained the same as it had been the night before. Seth lived everywhere or nowhere. She lived here. No matter what her feelings for him might be—and she was still afraid to think about it too much—would she be able to uproot herself from this place if it came to that? Was it what she wanted? Perhaps more importantly, would it be what he wanted? The whole situation screamed “cart before the horse,” and she understood she’d had a head start in getting to know Seth through his music over the years. She reminded herself he’d literally just met her, and she shouldn’t assume he was experiencing the same wild, exhilarating rush of feelings she was. It was way too soon to make any assumptions. But she was a woman, so she wondered.
Beside her, Seth stirred and his eyes slowly opened. They focused, and his mouth curved in a sleepy smile. “Mornin’, beautiful.” His voice was still husky with waking.
“If you call this morning. We couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours.”
Seth stretched and rolled to face her. “I’m pretty used to short sleep, but if you want to rest a while longer, I can go out and make some coffee.”
“Nope, wide-awake now. And don’t you budge. I’ll go start the coffee and be back in about thirty seconds.”
Seth ran his hand from her shoulder and down her arm, coming to rest on her hip. “Make sure you hurry back.”
“You’ll hardly know I’m gone.” She bounded out of bed and scampered—topless, she realized—toward the kitchen, with a brief stop at the bathroom. She considered retrieving her shirt from the living room, but decided against it. No point, when she had every intention of removing it again almost immediately.
She hit the switch on the coffeemaker and heard the bathroom door close. She took a deep breath and headed back to her room, where she slipped into bed, the sheets still warm from their bodies. She fluffe
d the pillows and arranged the blankets to emphasize her cleavage and hide her softening, thirty-four-year-old belly. Best if he not see her in all her glory, in daylight, until he was so blinded by lust—she hoped—he wouldn’t notice certain problem areas.
Seth wore only boxers as he joined her under the covers. She suspected it wouldn’t be long before those boxers were on the floor, and she hoped she hadn’t chewed holes in them first.
He slid his arm under her, and she snuggled her head in the curve of his neck and shoulder. “Sorry I conked out on you last night. I’m not used to being up so late.”
“Wasn’t anything wrong with last night.” He tucked one finger under her chin and kissed her.
She wouldn’t have believed it, but he looked even more incredible now, in the slowly brightening light of morning, than he had in the firelight.
He glided under the sheet and moved over her, capturing her hands and extending her arms over her head, holding them against the pillow as his lips brushed along her cheek. He kissed her, and the sandy rasp of whiskers thrilled the delicate skin of her face. The feel of the whole length of his body stretched over her, his elbows bearing enough weight to keep her comfortable, held a note of possession she was surprised to find very appealing.
He released her hands, and she put her arms around his shoulders. Her lips found the soft, delicate spot just below his ear, and she breathed in his scent, imprinting it in her mind. She couldn’t resist the urge to steal a quick taste, adding his flavor to the memory. The flick of her tongue brought a hoarse sound from his throat.
He moved down her body, and she couldn’t decide whether to urge him to move faster or to take his sweet time. From her throat to her shoulder, his mouth left a burning trail, cooling slowly with his passing. He cupped the globes of her breasts, and he brushed them with his cheek as he tasted his way across their fullness to the peaks of her nipples, one after the other.