Page 61 of The Fantasy League
Would he have kissed me back? Would his hands have drifted down my back and slid below my pants so that he could brush over my bare skin? Would he have let a finger wander lower until it brushed up the middle of my panties?
I sensuously inched my hands from my stomach up to my breast and squeezed, causing that familiar tingling sensation I knew well to spread throughout my body.
Sliding my fingertips across my skin, I mimicked the same motion on the other side, but this time, I pinched my nipple between my thumb and pointer finger. Warmth spread straight to my core as I repeated the motions once again.
With my left hand toying with my nipples, I slowly grazed my right hand down my stomach and beneath the waistband of my slinky shorts. Spreading my legs wider, I teased my middle two fingers up and down my slit until I could feel my arousal.
I dipped both fingers inside my heat before pulling them out to swirl wetness around my clit, excitement dancing beneath my skin. Holding back a moan, I continued to work my fingers in a steady circular motion until I could feel my orgasm beginning to build at the base of my spine.
Bucking my hips against my own hand, I dipped two fingers back down inside me once again, quickening my pace as I shoved them in and out.
I did my best to stifle the moans that threatened to spill out of me, knowing that Abel was just behind the wall next to me, but a small moan escaped my lips unexpectedly. My pussy clenched around my fingers just thinking about Abel, imagining that these were his fingers instead of my own.
I clasped the hand that was playing with my nipples over my mouth to muffle the noise as my orgasm grew closer. Picking up the speed of my fingers, I arched my back and my pussy began pulsing tightly around them.
Oh god, I needed to come.
An orgasm tore through my body so hard that I felt like I was floating. My body thrashed against the sheets until I steadied my rhythm, coming down from the high that relieved me of the ache I’d had since arriving at the beach house.
My chest heaved while I tried to catch my breath. Keeping my eyes closed, I let myself lay there, mindless and sated, for a long while until I eventually drifted off into a deep, deep sleep.
* * *
When I wokeup the next morning, I threw caution to the wind and wandered down the stairs without brushing my hair or teeth first. I’m sure Abel couldn’t have cared less what I looked like after waking up anyway. If he thought that I was one of those girls who woke up looking polished and pristine, he was wrong.
Oh so very wrong.
I almost forgot that he’d seen me just after waking up before when he spent the night at the pool house. The realization hit me like a slap to the face. Abel and I had fallen asleep together… twice now.
And both times it was the best sleep I’d gotten in weeks.
That couldn’t have been a coincidence, right?
I made myself comfortable around the kitchen nook that overlooked the foggy morning shoreline. Abel made me coffee in the kitchen and handed me the cup before taking a seat across from me. I blew the rising steam from my mug as I read the latest Page Six headline that Lea had sent me late last night.
Abel Abbott, is pink his new obsession? Click here for exclusive pictures of the football player and his favorite travel accessory and all the other pink items he keeps around.
I doubled over in laughter, reading the link to the obnoxious headline while I scrolled through—what appeared to be—every photo of Abel holding something pink to ever exist.
There was one with him at the grocery store buying pink flowers and another where he was obviously holding a little kid’s pink purse at one of the team’s youth sports camps they put on during the off-season… but all the kids had conveniently been edited out of the photo.
God, the lengths these media outlets would go to for a few website clicks was outrageous. Abel popped a brow at me, and I slid my phone across the kitchen table to him so he could read the article.
The housekeeper, Janice, left us an enormous breakfast fit for a family of five. Which I guessed, when you were feeding a guy Abel’s size, made sense. Trust me, I of all people would know.
I immediately dove in, shoveling food onto my plate and downing it all just as quickly—waffles, bacon, eggs, fresh fruit—leaving Abel in the dust to eat my scraps.
Maybe it was just me, but there was a specialsomethingabout eating another chef’s food that always made it taste ten times better than anything I could’ve made myself.
Granted, in this case, it was probably the fact that Janice had fifty years of experience in the kitchen on me, but still.
I made a mental note to remind Abel to ask for some of her recipes before he came back home, so I could try some of them out myself.
I would’ve liked to ask her myself, but my trip to see Abel was a short one, and she wouldn’t be back over tomorrow morning before I left. As much as I wished I could’ve stayed longer, I knew that he’d be back home in a few days anyway and everything would go back to normal.
Abel picked up my phone from the table and quickly skimmed the article, rolling his eyes before sliding it back down to me.
“Remind me to get you a pink game day suit for your first game.”
