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“Good morning,” I whisper when I break the kiss.
“Mmm, yes, it is.” Her sleepy smile is perfection.
Abigail reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a condom. She opens the package with her teeth, and I lift my hips so she can roll it on my straining cock. It’s like a perfectly practiced dance, probably because of the sheer amount of sex we’ve had the last couple days. The times before we came to Charleston were frenzied and hot as fuck, don’t get me wrong, but these last couple days we’ve gotten to know each other’s bodies in a way we never did before. In a way I never wanted to before her.
I enter her heat with a slow thrust, amazed like I’ve been every time before at how perfectly we fit. I’ve had plenty of different kinds of sex, but with Abigail, it’s everything rolled into one. Passionate and hard, exciting and new, soft and sweet, and oftentimes somewhere in between. I pump in and out of her in no rush to get anywhere, just relishing in the feel of her soft body under mine.
Abigail’s knees come up to my hips as her finger softly trails up and down my spine, leaving goose bumps in their wake. I love the feel of her fingertips running over my skin. I lean down to lazily taste her lips, the kiss unhurried. She sighs into my mouth, and moments later, my hips are pumping harder as she screams out her pleasure into the otherwise quiet hotel room.
The telltale signs of my orgasm begin at the base of my spine, and just seconds later, I’m following her over the edge.
“Fuck, Red. I could wake up like this every morning,” I say as I slow my thrusts and come back to Earth. I cup her cheek in my hand and lean in for another soft kiss, just our lips touching. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her as I look her straight in the eye.
We’re not the lovey-dovey sort of couple, but there’s something about waking her up with orgasms and soft sex that has me almost waxing poetic to the woman.
What is she doing to me?
“I wish we could stay like this all day,” she tells me as I move off her warm body to dispose of the condom.
“We could skip the party tonight. Maybe go on another ghost tour,” I call from the bathroom.
Hearing her tinkling laughter brings a wide smile to my face as I wash my hands. I look in the mirror at my expression. I can’t recall a time when I’ve had this much fun with a woman in bed or wanted to spend this much time with someone out of one.
“Trust me, if it’s between wanting to spend an evening in the cemetery watching you turn gray talking about ghost sightings and serial killers, or spending an evening with my sister, the Callaway brothers and their asshole friends, the cemetery will always win. Hands down, every time.”
I walk back into the bedroom and launch myself on the bed next to her, causing her to nearly bounce right off.
“I did not turn gray, She-Devil.” I grab her around the waist and growl in her ear as I tickle her side. Abigail howls with laughter, trying to push me away.
“Tell yourself whatever you need to,” she spurts out between laughs.
“It was dark. The only light was coming from the moon. Of course I looked pale.” I continue my tickle torture. “Now tell me I’m a manly man, and you know I would never be afraid of a few ghost stories, woman.”
“Fine. You win,” she gasps out. “You, Jackson Hayes, are the manliest man I know,” she exclaims.
“And I’m not afraid of ghost stories,” I prompt.
“Jackson.” She stops squirming and solemnly looks me in the eye. “You know I don’t like to lie.” Laughter erupts from her as she jumps off the bed and runs to the bathroom before my arms can grab her. Slamming the door, I hear her cackle while the water to the shower turns on. Alright, she wants to play? I can play. I walk into the bathroom just as she steps into the shower.
“You’re going to pay for that, Red,” I growl as I stalk toward her.
Abigail shrugs and looks over her shoulder at me. “We’ll see.”
Depending on your version of making my little hellcat pay, I did. Twice.
Abigail looks like a million dollars when we’re ready to go to this bachelorette/bachelor party that I couldn’t talk her out of. And I did try. I explained to her all the things I would do to her body, down to the last detail, if we stayed in our room the whole day. I thought I had her at one point, but she shook herself out of the haze of lust and told me we had to at least make an appearance.
“It’s not that I want to go,” she told me. “It’s that I already said we would be there, and I don’t feel like giving my mother any more ammo against me.”
Why she cares what these people think is beyond me at this point. They haven’t reached out since she’s been in town, other than getting together at prescheduled events. When I asked her about it, she told me that’s just the way it was with her family. They aren’t the hang out and play catch-up types. She didn’t seem sad about it. Resigned is a better way to describe her attitude toward it.
Which brings us here. Some swanky bar downtown with an exceptional scotch selection, hanging out with rather unexceptional people.
Cesily’s bridesmaids are tittering in the corner, sneaking glances at me every few seconds. They can’t possibly think I haven’t noticed the embarrassingly obvious looks they’ve been giving me. Or maybe they want me to notice, thinking I’ll make my way over and throw them a bone. Not likely, especially when I have the only girl I want to bone sitting next to me.See what I did there?
I’m chuckling to myself when the waitress leaves with our drink order.
Abigail looks at me with squinted eyes. “What’s so funny over there, Chuckles?”
