She pulled me into her over and over, and each time I pressed deeper inside.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, Abby. You’re all I want,” I breathed against her mouth.
I grabbed her thigh with one hand and propped myself up with my elbow. Our stomachs slid easily against each other as beads of sweat began to form on our skin. I thought about turning her over, or pulling her on top of me, but decided I’d rather sacrifice creativity for being able to look into her eyes, and staying as close to her as I could.
Just when I thought I could make it last all night, Abby sighed.
“Travis.”
The sound of her breathing my name unguarded me and put me over the edge. I had to go faster, press farther until every muscle in my body tensed. I groaned and jerked a few times before finally collapsing.
I breathed in through my nose against her neck. She smelled like sweat, and her lotion . . . and me. It was fucking fantastic.
“That was some first kiss,” she said with a tired, contented expression.
I scanned her face and smiled. “Your last first kiss.”
Abby blinked, and then I fell onto the mattress beside her, reaching across her bare middle. Suddenly the morning was something to look forward to. It would be our first day together, and instead of packing in poorly concealed misery, we could sleep in, spend a ridiculous amount of the morning in bed, and then just enjoy the day as a couple. That sounded pretty damn close to heaven to me.
Three months ago, no one could have convinced me that I would feel that way. Now, there was nothing else I wanted more.
A big, relaxing breath moved my chest up and down slowly as I fell asleep next to the second woman I’d ever loved.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Space and Time
AT FIRST, I DIDN’T PANIC. AT FIRST, A SLEEPY HAZE PROVIDED just enough confusion to foster a sense of calm. At first, when I reached for Abby across the sheets and didn’t feel her there, I felt just a small bit of disappointment, followed by curiosity.
She was probably in the bathroom, or maybe eating cereal on the couch. She’d just given her virginity to me, someone with whom she’d spend a lot of time and effort pretending not to have more than platonic feelings. That was a lot to take in.
“Pidge?” I called. I lifted only my head, hoping she would crawl back in bed with me. But after several moments, I gave in, and sat up.
Having no idea what was in store, I slipped on the boxers I’d kicked off the night before, and slipped a T-shirt over my head.
My feet dragged down the hall to the bathroom door, and I knocked. The door opened a bit. I heard no movement but I called for her, anyway. “Pigeon?”
Opening the door wider revealed what was expected. Empty and dark. I then went into the living room, fully expecting to see her in the kitchen or on the couch, but she was nowhere.
“Pigeon?” I called, waiting for an answer.
Panic started to swell inside of me, but I refused to freak out until I knew what the hell was going on. I stomped into Shepley’s room and opened the door without knocking.
America lay next to Shepley, tangled in his arms the way I imagined Abby would have been in mine at that point.
“Have you guys seen Abby? I can’t find her.”
Shepley raised himself up onto his elbow, rubbing his eye with his knuckle. “Huh?”
“Abby,” I said, impatiently flipping on the light switch. Shepley and America both recoiled. “Have you seen her?”
Different scenarios ran through my mind, all causing different degrees of alarm. Maybe she had let out Toto, and someone had taken her, or hurt her, or maybe she’d fallen down the stairs. But Toto’s claws were clicking against the floor down the hall, so that couldn’t be it. Maybe she went to get something out of America’s car.
I rushed to the front door and looked around. Then I jogged down the stairs, my eyes searching every inch between the front door of the apartment and America’s car.
Nothing. She’d vanished.
Shepley appeared in the doorway, squinting and hugging himself from the cold.
“Yeah. She woke us up early. She wanted to go home.”
I took the stairs back up two at a time, grabbing Shepley’s bare shoulders, pushing him back all the way to the opposite side of the room, and grinding him into the wall. He gripped my T-shirt, a half-frowning, half-stunned expression on his face.
“What the—” he began.
“You took her home? To Morgan? In the middle of the fucking night? Why?”
“Because she asked me to!”
I shoved him against the wall again, blinding rage beginning to take over my system.
America came out of the bedroom, her hair ratted and her mascara smeared below her eyes. She was in her robe, tightening the belt around her waist. “What the hell is going on?” she asked, pausing midstep at the sight of me.
Shepley jerked out his arm and held out his hand. “Mare, stay back.”