Page 20 of Pregnancy Scandal
She clutched the edge of my shirt and pulled me down, but she didn’t need to. She didn’t need to move. I smoothed my hand behind her head and brought her to me as I lowered my lips to hers to claim her mouth.
When my mouth crashed down on hers, she stopped being Abby, my best friend. In that instant, she became Abby, the woman I’d seen turn into this amazing being I wanted too. Abby, the girl I’d considered being more than friends with when I was eighteen and wished like hell now I’d manned up and said something about that one-second kiss I’d called a near kiss.
It had actually happened, and fucking hell, this was happening now.
Fire was exactly what it felt like.
Fire and electricity rushing through my body and coursing through my veins.
I swept my tongue into her hot, wet mouth, tangling with her delicious tongue and angling her face so I could kiss her deeper. That was when the kiss turned hungry and she tugged at my shirt so hard the buttons popped off.
I gripped her tiny waist, relishing the feel of her in my hands, and moved with her so I could pin her against the wall. That was where I definitely lost my mind. The savage, primal need to have her consumed me and fueled my every move. We tore at each other’s clothes. My jacket came off and my shirt lay open, hanging off my shoulders. Her dress was ruffled around her waist. I trailed a line of kisses from her mouth to her neck, and the little moan that left her lips nearly made me embarrass myself right there.
She pulled back, ready to say something, but then her gaze dropped to my chest and stayed there.
I didn’t know what she was looking at until she ran her fingers over my bare skin and smiled.
I glanced down at my tattoo. She ran her fingers over the swirl of her name inked over my heart in rich black italics.
“Abby Cartwright?” she breathed. “That’s …me.”
“Yes, that is you. Abby Cartwright,” I answered. I looked to her chest too, at the ample flesh of the huge swells of her breasts held snug against her strapless bra.
No more of this resistance. Time to really step over the line. Time to see her chest too and satisfy that curiosity of mine that I knew I should be restraining.
I reached forward and snapped the little butterfly clasp open.
It unleashed her massive globes as her bra fluttered down her waist and drifted to the ground as if in slow motion.
Tight, pert, pink nipples pointed toward me, begging to be sucked. With a wicked smile, I filled my palms with her breasts and moved back to her lips deciding I would indulge in her tonight.
I absolutely fucking would.
That was my last thought, then I lost my mind at the same time as I got lost in her lips.
Tasting.
Chapter 7
Abby
* * *
Irolled onto my side, and my head felt like it was going to fall off and explode.
It didn’t help that I was…
Where was I?
I felt around the flat surface where I lay and decided it had to be the floor. Smooth and cold, so it had to be the kitchen. We had a marble floor in the kitchen. The rest of the house was floorboards.
Warmth fluttered over my stomach and a hand cupped my right breast and squeezed. That made me snap my eyes open, and I found myself looking at the light wood of the kitchen cupboard.
Yes, I was on the floor, and next to me were my clothes. Bra and panties in one pile, my dress next to it along with a shirt. A man’s shirt.
A deep groan rumbled against my back, and I turned over again finding myself cocooned by strong arms.
Very strong arms with huge bulging biceps attached to a torso that looked like it had been chiseled from stone. I was so lost in admiring the masterpiece of each muscle that it froze the part of my brain that should freak out because I had no memory of last night, or how I came to be with this perfect being. There was a Japanese character on his hip, then nothing until I got to his chest.
