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He set my feet to the side and stood up. The lines and planes of his sculpted chest and stomach lit up with the golden, flickering light of the candles, and I barely stifled a moan. His hands went to his jeans, and he unbuttoned the waist before pausing.
“How about now?”
God, he was so fucking cocky. I hated it. I loved it.
I coolly drained the last of my margarita and set the bottle on the floor before I stood. I swept my gaze over Will’s body, not bothering to hide my admiration, then took a step closer. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Without missing a beat, Will unzipped his jeans and pushed them over his hips until they were low enough to sit snug under his arse at the back and reveal the shape of his hard-on, straining the fabric of his dark boxer briefs at the front.
So. Will Kidd had good reason to be cocky. I’d never worked so hard at anything in my life to keep my thoughts off my face as Idropped my gaze and took it all in. What I wanted to do was drop to my knees and take it all in my mouth. Instead, I ran my teeth over my bottom lip as I met Will’s eyes. Then, I took a step back.
“That’s all I needed. Thanks for the donation.”
Will looked at his erection, then back up at me. “That’s all youneed? Donation for what?”
“The flick list.” Doing my best not to laugh at his stunned expression, I lifted my mouth in a crooked smile and softened my focus as I patted his cheek. Then I turned and walked up the stairs. “Don’t forget to blow out the candles before you go to bed,” I called over my shoulder. “Goodnight.”
I wasted no time stripping off every inch of clothing before I slipped under the covers, so aroused that even the thought of my naked skin against Will’s sheets drove me wild. But it was knowing he was downstairs listening that had me moaning the moment my fingertips hit my clit. I palmed my breast, tweaking one nipple the way I liked it, and I had to pace myself before coming too soon, but my clit was so swollen and my folds so slick that I was arching off the mattress and coming on my hand in no time at all. I groaned. I gasped. I panted and cursed my way to climax, then moaned my way out of it. I put on a real fucking show.
I lay there with my eyes closed, listening for movements downstairs. It was silent until a creak on the stairs told me Will was at least considering following me up here. But sixty seconds later, the lights went off, and I heard him settle on the couch.
Chicken.
Was it fair to torment him like this? Probably not. But was it fun? Absolutely. And Will could use a dose of his own medicine. Indulging in a full body stretch on the linens, I let out a satisfied sigh and smiled into the darkness.Your move, Mr Cocky.
19
Will
I couldn’t sleep. Notafter that. I lay on the couch for what felt like forever, slipping my dick through my fist over and over, but the idea of coming on my own stomach with Abbie upstairs and me on the sofa gave me loser vibes I couldn’t shake.
I wanted to go up to her, but there’d been no invitation, either implied or explicit, and the last thing I needed after Abbie’s performance was a solid rejection. So, I stared into the darkness as the sounds of her orgasm echoed in the loft long after she was done. Those whimpers were going to haunt me to the end of my days.
I yanked my hand out of my underwear, stuck it behind my head, and scowled at the ceiling. Jesus fucking Christ. Abbie was better at this than me.
I finally dozed off and managed to get a few hours of solid sleep. Seb woke once a little after midnight. I changed him and gave him a bottle, and he was still asleep when I woke with the sun a little after six. I rolled off the sofa with a winceand stretched to relieve some of the stiffness in my back and shoulders. Maybe tonight, I’d try sleeping on the floor instead.
As I waited for the coffee machine to power up, I stood in the kitchen with my phone in my hand, scrolling through the pictures of Seb that Abbie had sent me. I might have been biased, but he was areallycute kid. I caught myself grinning at the better shots, the ones that captured his big blue eyes or that sunshine smile. Abbie was in a few of them, too, which only made me grin harder—until suddenly, I was breathing through my anger.
It should have been Heather taking those pictures. Seb deserved to have his mother in his life the same way I’d deserved to have my father. I loved my mum, but she didn’t do enough to keep her husband accountable. She never set expectations or boundaries on his behaviour. Never demanded he do better. Instead, she let him coast in and out whenever it suited him. She believed his bullshit excuses and had a bottomless well of forgiveness in her. I never gave voice to the rage or heartache my father caused because it would have achieved nothing except break my mother’s heart.
Walking out on your family really screwed a kid’s sense of worth, and I’d be damned if I was going to make the same mistakes my mother did.
I dug Heather’s phone number out of the paperwork she’d left me, then selected three photos of Seb and attached them to a message.
Me: Seb is settling in at the loft. I introduced apple and pumpkin to his feeding schedule, and he’s starting to enjoy it. Everyone who meets him adores him on sight. He’s an incredible kid, and I’m going to be the best father I can be, but he needs his mother. I haven’t signed the parental rights papers, and it’s not too late to change your mind, so if you want to discuss joint custody, please call. From, Will.
The whoosh of the outgoing message tightened my stomach. I leaned with my elbows on the kitchen peninsula, staring at the phone as though I could conjure a response via sheer will alone, but the screen was still blank when I heard Abbie moving upstairs five minutes later.
Letting myself hope that Heather would get back to me at some point, I set the phone down and straightened. I wasn’t stupid. I’d always enjoyed the way Abbie ogled me every time I had my shirt off, and I wanted to make sure my bare chest was in full view as she walked down the stairs. I was going to up the ante today. Nobody played me like that and got away with it. Not even Abbie.
Then she sauntered down from the loft wearing my clothes—an oversized crew-neck T-shirt with The Salty Stop’s logo printed small on the front and larger on the back—and I forgot my own name.
Abbie was tall, and the shirt barely covered the curve of her arse. I stared at her long, lithe, sun-bronzed legs as she slowly walked down the stairs, putting on a performance she knew I’d buy a ticket to see. Her tight nipples poked through the thinning white fabric, and when her bare feet hit the floorboards on the bottom floor, she reached up and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, teasing me with a glimpse of what hid just underneath the hem of my shirt as she tied her tresses into a sexy knot on the top of her head.
“Morning, Kidd.” She strolled over to the kitchen and rested the heels of her palms on the edge of the peninsula, leaning towards me. “Sleep well?”
I swallowed, throat bobbing with the effort. “You know I didn’t.”
