She no sooner got out the words then his hand went away and so did he. She blinked in the darkness at the sudden cold, opening her mouth to object but then her panties were pulled down her legs and he rolled over her.
She felt his hand between them working at his trousers right before his mouth crushed hers in a mind-boggling kiss.
Her legs opened in invitation, his h*ps slid between, his tongue touching hers and then he was inside her, buried to the hilt, filling her completely.
And that felt beyond amazing.
“Yes,” she whispered as he moved, not slowly but fast, hard, hot, her body jolting lusciously with his thrusts.
She wrapped her arms around him as he pulled one of her legs around his waist, her other thigh he pushed up against his side, giving him better access so he could go deeper, thrust harder and she liked it.
No, she loved it.
And she felt it; she knew it was back, ready to overwhelm her.
“Cash,” she gasped and his mouth moved from the skin below her ear as his head came up so he could look at her.
“I want it.” His words were a demand uttered in a husky rumble that so affected her, Abby slid over the edge.
“Cash,” she repeated on a soft cry as it started.
His fingers drove into her hair, tugging it gently, pulling her head back so her neck arched even further than it did naturally with her cl**ax. His mouth went to her neck, she felt his lips there, his tongue touching her, his body moving inside hers but it was mostly the scrumptious, momentous, earth-shattering explosion of her body she was feeling.
And it was scrumptious, momentous and earth-shattering, pounding through her body as Cash pounded inside her.
After, when Abby was coming down, her body tight around his (both her limbs and other better places), was when she heard him pull in his breath. He drove into her one, last, succulent time and she knew she had him.
And that was earth-shattering too.
When they were done his weight relaxed into her. Her arms flexed, her thigh tightened at his side and her leg curled deeper around his waist and she found, stupidly and ridiculously, she wanted to hold onto him. She wanted to hold onto the man who lit welcoming lights, who worried about her when she was late, who showed patience with an old, lonely woman, who found his mother after she committed suicide and was brave enough to talk about it.
She wanted to hold onto Cash Fraser and the magic of this moment forever.
Then sanity, as it had a way of doing, invaded.
And she wondered what, in all holy hell, she was doing.
She’d just given herself to him.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Then, heartbreakingly, she remembered Ben.
There had been no one since him. When she was with him, she never even considered another man.
Now, she’d just let Cash f**k her.
In fact, she’d practically begged him to do it.
What was the matter with her?
Cash’s face came out of her neck as his hand released her hair.
“Abby.”
She tipped her chin down to look at him in the shadows, wondering how she was going to get out of her latest, stupid, stupid, stupid Abby behaviour.
She was thinking, hysterically, she’d blame it on the drink before he spoke.
“Don’t f**king shut down on me.” His voice was a warning, holding an edge of anger, making her scarily aware that, even in the dark, he could read her.
“I’m not shutting down,” she lied.
“You f**king well are,” he clipped and since he was using the word “fuck” a lot, she knew he wasn’t edging toward anger, he was there. Before she could process this (as in, let it freak her out), he went on. “What just happened was good.”
“Cash.”
“I don’t give a f**k about whatever f**king rules you have. That was you that you just gave me. I wanted it, you gave it, I took it and I’m not f**king giving it back.”
“Cash –” she started again.
“No, Abby, you’re mine,” he declared and genuine fear started edging out the beginnings of panic, the despair at her reckless behaviour and the full-tilt guilt.
“What does that mean?” she whispered and his hand came to rest against the side of her face.
“Five days ago, I paid for a part of you. Just now, you gave me all of you. And I’m not f**king giving it back.” She pulled in breath at what he said and what he might mean but he kept talking. “This is mine,” he said, moving his h*ps and she couldn’t help it, he was still inside her, it felt good and her own h*ps pressed into his in response. Then his mouth came to hers. “And this mine,” he murmured before he brushed his lips against hers then his hand left her face to trail down her side. “And this is mine,” he went on, his hand coming back to her face, his thumb gliding along her cheek. “And, darling, this is mine.”
“Cash, I think it’s safe to say you’re freaking me out,” she informed him softly and honestly, her voice proving her words true.
She saw in the dark his white teeth flash in a smile as his anger disappeared.
Then he whispered, “Get used to that feeling, Abby. Because when something’s mine, it’s mine and I never give it up without a fight. And even if someone’s fool enough to fight me, they never win.”
“Cash, you can’t have me, I’m not yours to have,” she told him, her voice now sounding a wee bit desperate.
His mouth came back to hers and she felt that he was still smiling.
“Oh yes, darling, you are,” he said there and he kissed her.
And right before his tongue touched hers and she lost herself again, Abigail Butler thought, Oh bloody hell. Now what have I done?
Chapter Ten
The Morning After
Cash woke to find Abby curled beside him on the bed in the curve of his outstretched arm. Her knees were touching his calf, one of her hands resting light on his stomach, her head was on her other hand on the mattress, forehead pressed into his side.
Though it was an odd position, it felt both intimate and poignant.
He felt something else and glanced down to see Abby’s cat was curled between their bodies, snug in the crook of her lap.
He rarely slept the night with a woman, preferring his own bed and the statement it made when he left them to theirs.
However every once in awhile, particularly if his partner had satisfied him, he’d break this rule.
But he’d never shared a bed with a cat.
He looked to his left and saw her clock announcing it was four thirty.
Staying at her house added an hour to his commute. He liked to be in the office by seven at the latest.