them. My tongue traces along the fabric of her dress, across the curve of her tits, my teeth grabbing at whatever cloth I can, wanting to tear away her dress. I settle for placing kisses over her clothes, nipping the curves until my lips find the hard peak underneath. I bite through the material, and her shoulder blades lift from the cold metal of the car.
Unable to do everything I want here in the garage, I pull her into me, my cock straining under my jeans, wanting to bust out and plunge deep into her like the barbaric asshole I am. My hands grab under her thighs and lift her up, swinging her around toward the mudroom door. The house is dark, so I’m careful not to move too fast or run us into anything that might wake my buzzed and sleeping mom. I’m not about to let her go, though. I’ve kissed this girl before and when she pushed away, it nearly broke me.
“Do you want to see my room?” I ask against her mouth in a whisper. She nods and licks my lips, taking the top one between her teeth and clamping down with seductive pressure. I hope I can carry us up the stairs without passing out from the things she is doing to me.
We both hold our breath at the upstairs landing, passing by the albums and empty shelves where my trophies used to sit. I threw them out, though I saw that my mom saved the bag from the trash and left it in the garage.
I’m quiet with my door, letting it click slowly and twisting the lock behind her back as I hold her up against it.
Her legs relax their grip around my waist and she slides from my body, down the door, and for a beat, I’m afraid she’s about to tell me this is all a big mistake. Not that it isn’t. It’s a clusterfuck on the scale of mistakes, but I’m already in it. I was in it the moment June talked me into buying flowers and Abby showed up with my brother.
Hayden would probably say I’ve been handed everything in my life, but that’s a lie. I’ve worked my ass off for every honor I earned, fought my way through expectations and my own failures to show I have grit. Abby was never mine to easily have. I don’t deserve her. But damn, do I plan to fight for her, to fight to keep her, and prove to her there’s something worth being with inside of me.
With lust-heavy eyes holding me hostage, Abby brings her hands up her body, crossing her arms over her chest, and walking her fingers up to the thin straps of her sleeves. She slides them each over her shoulders at the same time, her dress slipping down her body until she catches it just over her breasts. A coy smile paints her lips, the bottom one caught in her teeth.
Fuck me.
I cover her hands with mine, coaxing her hands to let go of the fabric. The silky material slips from her fingers slowly, revealing a new inch of her skin a second at a time until it slips down to her hips all at once. It’s not the kind of dress you wear a bra with, and I knew that when my mouth ran along the smooth material, but it’s still a control-altering sight to see Abby like this.
Vulnerable.
Never—not once—is that a word I would associate with her. But she is right now. She is for me, baring her skin and extending her trust.
Taking her hands one at a time, I lift them above her head, pressing the back of her wrists flat against the door as I step in close, my chest pressing against hers. She leaves them above her head, letting me trace slow lines down the tender skin inside her arms, over the nape of her neck and down her breasts until my thumbs find the aching peaks of her nipples. I gently stroke them in circles, and she reacts by scratching at my skin. I pause long enough to tug my shirt up and over my head and toss it to the floor, and my touch returns to her pink tips within seconds.
I gently roll the budding nipples between my thumbs and fingers to start, adding pressure as her body reacts. God, I bet she’s wet as fuck.
Stepping up on her toes, she nips at my chin, and I drop my