Page 27 of Love Rewritten

She grins and hooks her fingers through my belt loops when I reach her, tugging me forward the slightest bit. “Yeah? Tell me more.”

A small yelp from Abby makes me chuckle when I lift her to sit on the seat of her bike and cover her mouth with mine. “It doesn’t require words,” I mumble between kisses.

She wraps her legs around my waist and arms around my neck, fingers tangling into my hair. My skin buzzes with the feel of her fingers grazing my skin. I couldn’t care less if her hands are covered in grease right now. She tugs on my hair slightly, and I bite her lip in response. She moans into the kiss only making me want more.

It’s a good thing that no one’s home right now. No one to hear the beautiful sounds she's making.

She shifts to press her hips into mine, the pressure sending a pulsing pressure between my legs.

I drag my tongue along the roof of her mouth before pulling away and kissing that spot behind her ear I know she loves so much. A low purr sounds from her chest as her grip on my hair tightens and I can't help but squeeze her ass only to make her moan more.

Fuck, I was not anticipating this today. Not that I’m complaining. It’s an effort to keep my hands from roaming. We really shouldn’t be doing this here of all places, but I can't help myself. She makes me crazy. She makes my head spin. She makes me feel drunk when I'm this close to her.

My fingers trail the length of her spine, and I almost can't help myself when I reach the clasp of her bra, but I force every restraint possible into my hands and force them lower, lower until I meet the front band of her pants, pop the button open, dip a hand past the denim, and coast over the fabric of her underwear. She tilts her pelvis up to give me better access to that delicate bundle of nerves. Her head tilts back, mouth lightly parted, as she grinds on my hand, the same motions over and over, the friction driving her wild.

I kiss down the length of her neck, nibbling at the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder, then run my tongue over it to soothe any remaining sting. She breathes heavier with each kiss and forces my lips back to hers as her brows pinch together.

I know she’s close based on the grip she has on the seat of her bike. It's so hard the whites of her knuckles glow even in the bright light of the garage. Just as I nip at the skin of her neck again, she takes one final breath before she comes undone. Her thighs squeeze my hand that's still buried in her pants while I work in slower strokes.

Her breath is hot and heavy as she comes down from her high and when she tilts her head back up to look at me, that mischievous grin returns. “Your turn," she says breathlessly.

“Nope. That was all for you.” I look toward the clock hanging over the door that leads inside. “Besides, my mom will be home any minute.”

She groans as if that’s the worst news she’s heard all day. She looks down, then back up. “That rock in your pants says otherwise.”

I roll my eyes but start cleaning up and hit the button to open the garage door. “When your legs stop shaking, take the bike around the block to see if the noise is gone.”

“Fine. Later then,” she says as she buttons her pants and fires the bike up.

I point a finger at her. “I’ll hold you to that.”

She grins and disappears down the street a moment later. When she returns, she’s as happy as ever that the sound is gone.

I’m glad for the ten minutes that pass before my mom's SUV turns into the driveway. She parks it when she sees us inside the garage.

“Oh, I didn’t know you two were coming over today.” She smiles and hugs me. Abby tenses a little at the sight of her but offers a smile as well.

“We needed to fix Abby’s bike. We were just about to leave.”

“No, please stay for dinner. It’s been too long since we had a family dinner. Rose should be home soon, too.”

I look to Abby to gauge if she wants to stay. She takes a deep breath and gives me a small nod.

“Okay, that sounds great. What are we having?”

Chapter 11

Abby

Dallas’schildhoodbedroomisexactly what I expected although it is larger than I pictured. The dark blue walls are covered in sports posters. The floors are clear of clutter just like his room at the apartment. I’ve learned that Dallas is the clean freak between him and Logan. A twin bed is pushed against the far wall. A nightstand and dresser match the deep brown stained bed set, each positioned around the room on separate walls. A small desk sits under the large window across from where I stand just inside the doorway. Baseballs, basketballs, footballs, and soccer balls cover the bedspread in a repeating pattern. The pillowcases match. A single stuffed bear, wearing a Twins shirt, sits in front of his pillow.

“A bit cliché, don’t you think?” I ask, grinning back at him.

He leans against the door frame, hands in his pockets, watching me inspect the room. “I was a very trendy kid when I was younger, thank you very much.”

On his desk is a picture of Dallas when he was a young boy and his dad who didn't have any graying hair yet. Dallas holds a bat over his shoulder while his dad crouches next to him. The front of Dallas's uniform reads "Tee Ball Team C" while Dr. Kraus's shirt reads "Coach" over his left shoulder. As unhappy as Dallas has been with his father lately, it's sweet to see a happy picture of them together.

I pivot back toward Dallas. A picture is tucked into the corner of the long skinny mirror that hangs near the door frame. Three kids stand in a backyard in their swimsuits, a sprinkler spraying wildly behind them. One is Dallas, one is Rose, and I’m assuming the other is Cole. There’s no denying the three are related. They’re younger, likely no older than fifteen.

---