Tucker Page 9

  “I thought you weren’t going to sleep with me.”

  Her head whipped up. “Excuse me?”

  “That’s what you told your roommate.”

  Abby smoothed her hair into place and took another step back until her hand was on the doorknob. “Well, that’s the thing about women, Tucker. It’s our prerogative to change our mind.”

  If he could have taken her right there and then, he would have. Instead, Tucker reached down for the some sort of control and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his dress pants.

  He nailed her with a look that was unmistakable.

  “Good to know,” he said dangerously, his hand sliding over hers until he opened the door. “Because we’re leaving this reception early.”

  He pushed her out into the hall. Bent toward her and licked up the side of her neck. “And then I’m going to take you back to our room and we’re going to get naked.”

  He heard her breath catch and grinned.

  “I’m going to kiss and lick every inch of your body, Miss Mathews.”

  She started down the stairs, hand shaking as it clung to the railing. “Really, Mr. Simon?” she murmured.

  “Really,” he answered, heart beating slow and steady. Just before Abby reached the door leading back into the reception, his hand slid over hers, electricity zipping along his forearm. “And then you’re going to have the best sex of your life.”

  She paused at that, and he could visualize the smile on her face. “That’s a pretty arrogant statement.”

  “No, that’s where you’re wrong, darlin’.” He opened the door, his hot gaze on her face as he waited for her to pass by. “That’s not a statement. That’s a promise.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Abby stayed away from the champagne. She didn’t have one sip of wine. Didn’t touch any of the beer, imported or otherwise. And she sure as hell didn’t touch any of the hard liquor.

  And yet she felt as if every single cell in her body was buzzing. It was as if her equilibrium was off, and like a drunk, she was weaving through the sea of guests, trying to keep her feet planted firmly so that her ass wouldn’t end up on the cool, tiled floor.

  Because she sure as heck was drunk.

  She was drunk and high on something and that something had a name. Tucker Simon.

  That’s not a statement, darling. That’s a promise.

  A groan escaped her and she tried to smile at Aunt Virginia as the older woman threaded her arm through Abby’s and led her into a dark corner.

  “Are you all right, dear? You look a bit peaked.”

  Abby didn’t have to glance up to know that Tucker’s dark gaze was on her. They’d been back at the reception for nearly two hours, though almost as soon as they’d entered the large room, he’d been spirited away by his cousins. He’d taken the bride for a spin around the room and then, of course, Aunt Virginia had claimed him. After that, he’d been surrounded by family and more than few women who were a tad too…overt in their advances.

  And all the time, Tucker watched her.

  Abby had taken a turn on the dance floor with Cooper and then Beau. She’d done a slow waltz with an old Southerner named Briscoe, who sported a waxed mustache that would have made Custard proud and wandering hands that well, wandered.

  Again, Tucker watched.

  They were separated, physically, and yet she felt the weight of his gaze, as if he was next to her. Kissing her. Touching her.

  “God,” she said softly, pressing a hand to the damp skin behind her neck.

  “Would you like some punch?” Aunt Virginia asked.

  “No,” Abby replied, cutting off the older woman. Alcohol would only make things worse. “I’m sorry, I just need to…I want…” She looked into the older woman’s eyes and blew out a hot breath. What to say?

  I want to have hot, sweaty sex with your nephew, but I don’t know if I should because it might ruin everything? But I’ve wanted him forever it seems and now…now I don’t know what to do about it?

  A slow smile crept over Virginia’s face, and she patted Abby’s hand. “I understand, honey. Trust me. Those Simon boys are hard to resist. Why my own husband damn near swept me off my feet the night I met him.” She cocked her head and smoothed her hair back as her gaze wandered the room. A dreamy expression settled in her eyes, and her voice was husky.

  “It was love at first sight, and I didn’t stand a chance. He took one look at me and decided he was going to have me and well,” she chuckled. “Have me he did. Right there. That night.”

  Abby didn’t know what to say to that, so she remained quiet.

  “So you and Tucker are…involved then?” Virginia’s eyes were sharp as she swung her gaze back to Abby.

  “I…well,” she attempted a smile. She so didn’t want to discuss Tucker with his aunt. A quick look to her right, and she saw his mother, Eden, headed their way. Two against one. Not fair.

  Suddenly it was all too much. It was too noisy. Too hot. There were too many bodies everywhere—too many damn Simons. And Christ, if Tucker kept looking at her the way he was right now, she was going to explode. She just might melt into an orgasmic puddle.

  She needed...she needed something familiar and safe. Something or rather someone who could steer her straight.

  “I’ve got to make a phone call. Please excuse me.”

  Abby didn’t wait for Aunt Virginia to answer. She spun on her four inch pumps and slid through the crowd, ducking to her left when she spied Cooper a few feet away. She wasn’t in the mood for him. Hell, she wasn’t in the mood for any of this right now.

  She threaded her way across the dance floor and headed for the terrace, not stopping until the cool air hit her and the shadows in the corners covered her. If she smoked, now would be the time for a cigarette. Instead, she rifled through her small clutch bag and whipped out her cell.

  Moments later, it rang and her roommate Lisa picked up immediately.

  “You slept with him.”

  Startled, Abby pressed the volume button, wincing as Lisa’s voice echoed into the night. Turning slightly she whispered into the phone.

  “No. Why the hell would you say that?”

  “You didn’t sleep with him?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am.”

  Abby made a face.

  “So you didn’t sleep with him,” Lisa repeated.

  “Not yet.”

  “Ha! I knew it.”

  “No! I mean…” Abby leaned against one of the columns that supported an overhang strewn with fresh cut flowers and rubbed her forefinger against her temple.

  She sighed. “He wants to…um, sleep with me and we’ve had a great time here, and his family is amazing even his cousin Cooper, and I kissed him the other night, and I swear to God I had an orgasm from just that one kiss.”

  Her words came out in a breathless rush and for a second she wavered, more than a bit dizzy.

  “Lisa?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  Silence greeted her, and she bit her lip, gazing out into the darkness. There against the edge of night a couple clung to each other. Kissing. Touching. Abby was pretty sure it was Tucker’s younger sister, Grace, and she may have been a pervert for watching the two of them, but she couldn’t drag her eyes away.

  Had she ever been that passionate?

  Her thoughts drifted to the kiss she’d shared with Tucker, and heat immediately flushed her cheeks. God, she wanted that. So badly.

  “Abby?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re in love with him.”

  “Yeah.”

  A pause.

  “Do you think that…” Abby could visualize her roommate twirling a small tuft of blond hair and biting her lip as she cuddled in the alcove that looked down onto the busy street below. “Do you think he feels the same way?”

  “No.” Abby shook her head. “I mean…” She thought of the touch of his fingers. Th
e heat in his eyes and the way they’d followed her relentlessly for the past few hours. She thought of the laughs they had together and of the quiet moments over the past year. The ones that had been filled truth and confession. The ones that had been Tucker sharing his pain.

  She thought of Cooper and what he’d said to her.

  “Maybe there’s something more than the fact that he wants sex,” she finally whispered. “But how will I know unless…”

  “Unless you see where this goes,” Lisa finished.

  “Yes.”

  “Sweetie, the only thing I can tell you for sure is that no broken heart ever happened from lack of trying.”

  Abby screwed up her nose. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that he might break your heart…but it also means that you might be the one to fix his.”

  Abby let that sink in.

  “The question is,” Lisa continued. “Do you want to take the chance? Is Tucker Simon worth the pain he might bring into your life?”

  Abby’s eyes drifted toward the young couple still locked in a passionate embrace.

  “Yes,” she breathed into the phone.

  “Then go for it,” Lisa said softly. “And know that I’m here, whatever happens.”

  “I love you, Lisa.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Abby smiled.

  “And Abigail?”

  “Huh?”

  “I hope he’s everything you deserve and…”

  “Yes?” Abby’s mouth curved into a smile.

  “I want details. I haven’t had sex in freaking ages with anything other than my vibrator. I need something to look forward to.”

  “Okay.” A figure appeared in the doorway. Tucker. “I have to go.”

  She slipped her cell back into her bag and took a deep breath before walking toward him. She paused a few inches from Tucker, taking in the unbuttoned dress shirt and tie that was askew. Her gaze lingered on the thick mess of hair, then the wide shoulders and casual stance.

  But there was nothing casual about the look in his eyes when they finally connected. A jolt of heat shot through her, settling low in her belly—an ache that throbbed.

  “Hey,” he said softly. Dangerously.

  God, the man could put more meaning into one word than anyone else she knew.

  “Hey, yourself.”

  An old Maroon 5 song was playing, the sounds drifting clearly from the open patio doors. It was a slow song. A sensual song. A song of heartbreak, need and seduction.

  “I want to dance with you,” Tucker said.

  He reached forward and enfolded her in his arms, moving her back toward the shadows where they could still hear the music.

  It was surreal. Moving with him there. Having him hold her so close that she could feel every single breath that he took, and hear every single heartbeat.

  He was warm and her fingers traced the hard contours of his chest, before she rested her cheek against him, closed her eyes, and let him move them both. There were no words. There was nothing but the music and their bodies. Nothing but the electricity that held them together, the fragrant desire in the air, and the need to get so close to him that it ached.

  She will be loved.

  The song encircled her. The lyrics haunted her. And the man who held her had claimed her without even trying.

  Abby wasn’t sure how long they moved slowly out there in the darkness, but when Tucker finally pulled away and she glanced up at him, she knew he felt exactly the same. His breaths fell in short, rough spurts and he ran his hands through his hair, rolling his shoulders—though his eyes never left hers.

  Her mouth went dry at the look on his face, and she had no idea how she even remained standing.

  Several long seconds passed, and then he reached for her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His warm hand lingered there, sending another lightening bolt straight down her body. She was hot and cold—a bundle of nerves.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Tucker said.

  Still afraid to speak because she was pretty damn sure her vocal chords weren’t working, Abby managed a nod.

  Tucker grabbed her hand and there was no turning back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The gods must have been smiling on Tucker, because he managed to get Abby out to the parking lot without running into his mother, Aunt Virginia, Beau, Cooper, or Betty Jo, for that matter. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he’d run into any of them, but he had a good idea it wouldn’t be pretty.

  He was that far gone.

  He’d nodded to one of the waiting drivers, and he and Abby had been on their way before anyone even knew they were missing from the reception.

  Now they were back in their hotel room.

  Now he had her alone and… Jesus, the things he wanted to do to her. It took every ounce of self-control that he had not to push her up against the wall and bury himself inside her. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this rabid…like he was an animal losing control.

  This overwhelming need to connect with Abby had snuck up on him, but now that it had him basically by the balls, he needed to keep his shit together. He had to proceed with caution. This was Abby, for Christ sake. He couldn’t fuck this up.

  Tucker tore off his tie and tossed it onto the sofa in the seating area. “Drink?” he asked casually, though inside a war raged. If she licked her bottom lip one more time he was going to go all caveman on her and carry her over to the bed. Or—he glanced at the wall to his right—he’d have her naked in less than five seconds.

  “No,” she replied quickly. There went that bottom lip again.

  “Can I get you any—“

  “No.” Abby shook her head, those brown eyes glistening in the low light. Slowly she walked toward him, moving gracefully like a cat until she stopped a few inches away.

  Suddenly on alert, Tucker couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Something had just changed, and he wasn’t even sure what it was, but this Abby was fierce. Sexy as hell.

  And not to be messed with.

  “I don’t want a drink. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to make small talk or anything else for that matter.” She took a moment, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

  “I want you.” It was a whisper, but man, it hit him hard and he clenched his hands into fists.

  God he wanted her so much that it hurt, but something twisted inside him. Guilt? Fear? Hell, he didn’t know what it was. The only thing that he did know was that this girl meant a lot to him. And it wasn’t as if the women he’d been with had meant nothing. He wasn’t that guy…that guy who didn’t give a shit. But those women were never going to figure into his life permanently, and they’d known that.

  Sure they might have hoped, but he’d been upfront. He’d been honest. He’d given and taken and it had been returned in kind.

  But this here…this night that was going to happen, it meant a lot more than just sex, and that was new territory for him. Abby wasn’t only a beautiful, smart, funny lady—she was his friend. He didn’t want to hurt her, because there were boundaries…boundaries he couldn’t cross.

  Not yet. Maybe never.

  “Abby.” He threaded his hand into that shiny, gorgeous hair and bent close. He needed to make sure that she knew what the score was. “Are you sure that this is what you want? You and me? Doing…”

  “Sex?”

  Was that a smile?

  He was already hot. Already horny as fuck. Already so close to the edge and that small hint of a smile was gonna send him over.

  “Tucker,” she breathed. “I want this.”

  His control was slipping. Christ, was it slipping. But he wouldn’t be the guy he was if he didn’t at least try once more to make her see. If he didn’t try to make Abby understand.

  “But, this…whatever this is between us…I’ve told you things, Abby. Hell, you know more about what’s going on in my head these days than my brothers do. I’m no good for someone like you and I…”


  Fuck. Was he even making sense?

  “You’re the kind of woman who… you deserve a lot and…”

  Goddamn, but he was screwing this up. He released her and stepped back not even sure what the hell he was trying to say.

  “Will you stop talking, Tucker?” she said, reaching behind her neck.

  “I just,” he continued, running his fingers through his already mussed up hair, though now his eyes were riveted to the creamy skin on display as Abby slowly slid her dress down her body, over her hips until it was a mess of fabric at her feet.

  “You’re not like the other women I’ve been with.” Jesus, she was standing in front of him in black panties and a matching bra. And holy hell, was that a tattoo peeking out the top of her skimpy undies?

  His mouth was dry. He was pretty much done.

  “I know,” she whispered taking a step toward him. She was so close now that her subtle, clean, fresh scent wafted up his nose and that set off a whole bunch of shit inside him.

  Her hands were between her breasts…breasts that looked like they were a little more than a handful. Breasts that were soft-looking, so goddamn feminine. They were fucking perfect.

  She toyed with the clasp and he heard her breathing change. “Stop being a choirboy, Tucker. It doesn’t suit you.”

  God, she was undoing her bra, and he was standing in front of her like an idiot. Christ, he probably had drool running from his fucking mouth.

  Tucker had maybe one second where he could have stepped back and put the brakes on. One second to just make sure that he wasn’t getting in too deep with a woman he’d only end up hurting. A woman he cared about.

  But then the bra was on the floor, and she whispered, “touch me.”

  Just like that, any resolve in him melted away. Touch her? Wicked thoughts filled his head. Wicked. Decadent. X-rated, porn star thoughts.

  Tucker leaned forward, breath hot as it slid across her skin. He inhaled her scent, there beneath her ear, and smiled when he felt her shudder.

  “I’m going to do a lot more than touch you, Abby.”

  Was that a groan?