Chapter Twenty-eight
Abby was just coming out of the kitchen when it happened.
It was nearly ten in the evening and gentle snow flakes fell from a cloud-heavy February sky. She’d just handed Cooper a “Mathew’s special” or as he liked to call it, Slippery Sex Drink, and was on her way to the living room where Betty, Beau, Jack and the rest of the Simon clan were gathered.
The door to the apartment opened, and her entire world froze.
Abby stopped midstride and nothing short of an earthquake could have moved her. Her feet felt as if they were encased in cement, cement that had seeped into her veins, slowly filling her body with a heaviness that was painful.
She couldn’t breathe, because it hurt too much.
Couldn’t speak, because there were no words.
Couldn’t move, because she had nowhere to go.
Abby could do nothing but stare back into the piercing brown eyes that watched her from across the room.
Teague moved out from behind Tucker and placed their bags on the floor, closing the door behind them as the entire room fell into silence.
This reunion had been a long time coming. Those first few days had turned into nearly two weeks, and now that Tucker was here, only ten feet from her, Abby could do nothing but stare at him like a complete idiot.
In her mind, she was already in his arms, but right here, right now, she was frozen. Screaming inside. Happy. Scared. Angry. Grateful.
Tucker’s hair was lighter from his time in the sun, his skin tanned. With a few days worth of stubble on his chin, he looked dangerous and sexy and so much like home, that Abby wanted to cry.
“Tucker,” his mother said, rising from the sofa.
Tucker’s gaze didn’t waver from Abby. He strode across the room, his long legs eating up the space between them in less time that it would take for Cooper to pound back his Mathews Special.
Before Abby could react, his arms were around her, and she was crushed to his chest. Oh God, his warmth. His flesh and blood beneath her.
She still couldn’t breathe. Or Speak. Or move.
She heard someone talking—Teague?
But then Tucker scooped her up into his arms without saying a word to anyone, and headed for their bedroom. Abby buried her nose in his neck and tried to keep it together, but every inch of her was trembling.
Tucker kicked their bedroom door shut and then his hand was on her face, his touch gentle.
Something finally turned on inside Abby, and her eyes flew open.
“I love you.” Tucker’s voice was rough, but there was no mistaking the emotion that laced those words. His eyes held hers prisoner. “I love you, Abigail Mathews and I’m sorry that I waited so long to tell you.”
That was it. Abby was done for. With those three little words, Tucker had wrecked her.
“Oh,” she said, trying to bury her face in her hands. She was overwhelmed. Overwrought. Wrecked.
Gently, he tugged her hands away.
He kissed her forehead and murmured, “I love you.”
Then he sought out the corner of her eyes, his tongue sweeping the edge and taking care of the tears that sat there. “I love you.”
And then he claimed her mouth, a soft, gentle claiming that was more of a caress. All of the emotion inside her bubbled to the surface, and she made a strangled noise, her muscles suddenly free as she moved in his arms. She needed to get as close to Tucker as she could.
God, she’d crawl inside him if it were possible. Bathe in his spirit, live in his soul. She wanted this man on every single level that existed.
He deepened the kiss, both hands sunk deep in her hair, holding her in place as his lips and tongue connected them once more. It was a soft, sensual kiss of welcome. A kiss of coming home. A kiss of promises and a future.
And it was a kiss that said he belonged to her.
“Hey,” Tucker said when they finally came up for air. “You okay?”
She brushed that long piece of hair off his forehead that always seemed to creep down. “You’re home. You’re home, so yeah, I’m good.” She smiled, sniffling a bit when he wiped the corner of her eyes again.
“Sorry. Don’t mean to ugly cry. I just…” she shook her head. “It’s been a long few weeks, and I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”
“I’m so f*cking tired,” he admitted. “And I know I’ve got a lot of stuff to explain. Hell, I might not even be able to explain it all, but I’ll try.”
Abby gently pushed back until she was kneeling on the floor in front of him. Very carefully, she undid the laces on his Doc’s and pulled off his boots, aware that his dark eyes were on her. Next came his socks.
She stood, held her hand out and pulled him to his feet.
“You’re family is in our living room,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“I should go and—“
“No.”
“No?” She couldn’t help it. Some of the happiness in her heart had found its way outside, and a small smile touched her mouth.
“Nope.” He was already tugging his T-shirt over his head.
“We’re going to bed.”
“We are.”
“Yep.” His hands were on the waistband of his jeans.
“But what about—“
He smiled tiredly. “They’ll figure it out, Miss Mathews.”
His jeans were off, and he stretched, totally unmindful of how amazing he looked in his black boxers and nothing else.
“It’s your turn,” he said crowding her toward the bed. “I’ve missed that f*cking tattoo.”
Abby undressed, down to her tank top and undies, but before she could slide onto the bed, he stopped her, his hand on her hip, yanking the top of her boy shorts down.
“There it is,” he said huskily, bending over and closing his mouth over the small orange dragonfly that was there.
“So f*cking hot,” he whispered against her skin. “But babe?” He was pushing her onto the bed now.
“Yes?”
“Sexytimes are gonna have to wait. I’m dead tire,d and all I want is to hold you so that I can finally fall asleep. God, I can’t remember the last time that I slept.”
Abby slid up against him, her back to his chest, clutching his arm where it rested just below her breasts. For the longest time, she just held him, loving the feel of her man back in their bed, and like a cat, she stretched into his warmth. Listened to the slow, steady beat of his heart.
I love you.
Three little words that meant so much.
“That sounds perfect,” she murmured.
But he was already asleep.
***
>Abby woke up moaning, her body hot, Tucker already inside her.
“Good morning, Miss Mathews,” he rasped in her ear as he slowly moved in and out, long thrusts that spread liquid heat. Her back was still flush to his chest and his hands gently massaged her nipples.
She was naked, clothes tossed who knows where, the covers bunched up at their feet. Not surprisingly, she was totally okay with that.
“Good morning, Mr. Simon.”
A slow, satisfied grin fell over her face as she began to move in tandem with him. She’d missed sex a lot over the last few weeks, but more than that, she’d missed the feel of him beside her in bed. Behind her. Against her. Inside her.
She missed the connection that only Tucker Simon gave her.
“You feel so f*cking good,” he said close to her ear. And she arched her back, stretching her neck so that when she turned slightly, she was able to nip at him.
“So good,” he groaned, thrusting in and out.
One of his hands slid down her stomach, long fingers trailing over flesh that quivered. When he settled his hand between her legs, she was ready. Angling her legs open slightly, she held her breath when his fingers slid into her slickness, the rough pads finding her * almost immediately.
“There she is,” he said, rubbing her in a slow, torturous motion.
“Oh, Tucker.”
She covered his hand with one of hers, pressing him into her harder as their tempo increased.
“Hold on, babe. I need this to last.”
He bit her shoulder, a gentle nip, and then kissed his way along her neck. “I need to feel you,” he whispered. “I need to love you.”
Abby closed her eyes, fighting the tears she felt pooling in the corners again. “I want you to love me,” she said softly as they moved together.
Their bodies strained into each other, and Tucker held her as if he was never letting go. His hands drove her crazy. His fingers and tongue. His mouth was everywhere. And through it all, he murmured over and over again, how much he loved her.
Tucker Simon loved Abigail Mathews with a fierceness she’d not felt before. But it was a fierceness that was to be embraced, not one to fear.
His body fit into hers perfectly. Their rhythm could have been a song.
And as Tucker made love to her that morning, so tenderly and passionately that it brought tears to her eyes, she knew that this was the true beginning for them. Tucker had finally let go of his past. They had faced the darkness and won.