But when we reach the farmhouse and I kick off my boots, it isn’t the bedroom I head to but the bathroom. The plumbing might be old, but the shower stall is plenty big enough. And after a morning of farm chores, I need to get clean while I get dirty.
“Fuck, baby, I love you,” Reid mutters as he watches me strip off my clothes. I give him a wink then turn my back to him and lean forward to turn on the shower. I hear him undressing and a minute later his hands curve around my bare waist and his heat covers me. I can already feel his rigid cock pressing against me as his lips trace a line down my spine. His fingers travel around to my stomach and dance up and down, teasing me, making me shiver.
Reid knows how to make me weak in the best way possible, and as soon as the water is heated, he pushes me in the shower and under the spray, then takes over.
He’s on his knees, spreading my legs and swiping his tongue up my pulsating slit before I know what’s happening, and my cry echoes around the bathroom
“God, Reid.”
“You’re my version of heaven, Abby.”
My legs start to shake. Nothing brings me to the edge faster than this man’s mouth on me.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” I can’t stop chanting. My hands are grasping at the slick wall behind me, trying to find stability against the tidal wave I know is coming. But it’s no use, and when Reid’s fingers find my inner walls and press against them, it’s over and I’m collapsing with the intensity of my orgasm. As I’ve learned he always will be, Reid is there to hold me up, whispering my name and kissing my body as he makes his way to standing. He lifts me into his arms as if I am weightless and carries me, dripping water, into the bedroom, snagging a towel along the way. He rubs my body with the towel as my hands slide through his wet hair. It’s longer now, shaggy in a way that makes him look adorably young sometimes, and heartbreakingly sexy other times. I take the towel from him and return the favour, running my hands over his body, the peaks and valleys of his muscles, every inch that I’ve memorized. I could spend all day here, but if there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s that our time alone is at a premium.
“Reid,” I murmur when his hands start to tease me between my legs. “They’ll be back soon.” My breath catches when he slides a finger inside.
“I can’t help it if I like playing with your clit.”
Good God, his dirty words, whispered in my ear, make my head fall back and a low moan escape me. My hands return to his hair, my grip tightening when he pinches my clit with one hand and sucks my breast into his mouth.
“Oh, fuck! Reid!”
His low chuckle washes over my skin. “I love making you swear, Abby. Lose control with me.”
“Please. Now.”
His mouth releases from my nipple with a pop, and he pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth with a devilish grin. When he sucks them off, and lets out a sound of pure satisfaction, I push him down onto the bed, grab a condom, and quickly roll it on his length, then climb on to straddle his hips.
“Yes, baby.”
I’m so wet, so ready, I slide onto his cock with ease. The fullness of having him inside of me brings an instant wave of pleasure over my body. Reid’s hands go to my ass, and he guides me up and down slowly, then faster, until he’s pumping into me and I’m rocking over him wildly.
“Faster. Oh God, faster,” I cry, and Reid pulls out, flips me over and slams back into me from behind. My shoulders drop to the bed, and the sound of our bodies coming together fills the room, with Reid’s grunts and my moans creating the perfect harmony.
“Abby. Fuck. Baby. Yes.” Reid’s words get choppy, punctuated with every thrust, and I know he’s close. And when I feel him thrust deeply into me, and the heat pulsing into me, my body flies over the edge into my own climax as well. When he’s finished, Reid tenderly turns me over and gathers me in his arms.
With my head on his chest, I can feel Reid’s heart pounding in time with my own. I’ve never felt so connected with a man as I do with him in these moments following our lovemaking. But that peaceful connection is interrupted like a scratch on a record when we hear the back door slam downstairs. The voices are faint, which says they’re still in the mudroom and not in the main part of the house, but either way — we’re out of time.
“Shit.” I scramble out of his arms and run back to the bathroom with him hot on my heels. Dirty clothes get pulled back on in a hurry, and when he goes to steal a kiss as I pull my sweater on over my head, I swat at him.
“Stop it, Reid, we have to get downstairs or they’ll catch us.” Okay, so yes, we’re adults and can do what we want, but I’m still holding on to an attempt at keeping Layla from the intimate side of my relationship with Reid.
“Baby, Layla might not get it, but Steve is going to take one look at our wet hair and your beautifully flushed face and know exactly what we’ve been up to.”
My head lands on his still bare chest for just a second. “I know. But still. Let me at leastpretendto be a responsible mother and not a hussy who just had to have sex with her boyfriend at nine in the morning.”
Reid’s hands tilt my head upward until I meet his serious, yet loving gaze. “Abby Martin, you are the most amazing mother I’ve met, and trust me, I’ve met quite a few.” I quirk my lips at his choice of words, but let him continue. “You’re also an incredible woman, a sexy, sensual, hot as fuck woman. And you’re mine. Layla might be young, but she knows I love you, and her. And she’s seven. She doesn’t have any clue that we saved water by showering together.”
My heart melts at this amazing man with his ridiculously perfect words.
“What you’re really saying is, calm down, Abby?”
His gentle smile is everything. “What I’m saying is, we got this. Together.”
And he proves his point by taking my hand and leading me downstairs. Steve gives us a knowing grin, but as Reid predicted, Layla doesn’t even notice our disheveled appearance. She’s too busy tugging on Reid’s arm, babbling to him about the deer they saw when they were on their tractor ride. Watching the two of them settle at the kitchen table, Reid paying full attention to Layla, and Layla still holding his hand, is all the confirmation I need.
Mistletoe worked some magic this Christmas, turning secrets into truths, and lust into true love.
