Cabin Glow: A New Adult and College Romance (The Billionaire Romance Redemption Series Book 3) (5 page)

ABBY practically crawled in through her apartment front door, wariness in her stiff legs after their run. She collapsed on the sofa before Andrew could get in the doorway. He stood hulking over her, the top of his chest glistening with sweat under the open front of his light windbreaker. It was well-earned sweat, for both of them. She had run with him through her regular route, and doubled back a few times to make it challenging for them both.

Needless to say, he had let her win. She would have pushed extra hard to win as well—she loved the idea of going back to Lake Tahoe, this time of her own volition, and with just her and Andrew. He stood over her now. He looked like he could go another five miles. His hands sat at his waistband, just daring her to say the words.

“So, what is it? Come back to my place, or do we stay here for a bit?” His crooked smile made him appear even more boyish. In a totally sexy way.

“Stay.”

“Excellent.”

They had made a stop at the farthest point of the boardwalk. It was her favorite place to stop. When they did, she had laced her arms around his neck and whispered how much she wanted him. Right there and then. She was kidding—well, she was kidding a little. Luckily, Andrew was more reserved than she was.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her bedroom. Still a little sore in the legs, she sat on the side of the bed, letting her fingers work fast on the inconvenient drawstring of his running pants. Then, the zipper of his windbreaker. She heard the angels sing Gloria as that zipper slipped all the way down, and his sexy, slightly tanned chest revealed itself more fully above the tank top he wore underneath. The undoing of the zipper—Abby was beginning to believe it was the most erotic manufactured sound ever created.

She gasped. Literally. And imagined where that slim line of skin was heading.  Active imagination, be damned. She had seen him time and time again, and he still had that effect on her. Her mind could never accurately recreate the sheer awesomeness that waited for her under his layers of clothes. She shifted onto her elbows to get a better look as the fabric of his track pants lowered and revealed his plain black silk boxers.

“No kidding,” she blurted out, laughing loud.

“What?”

“Black silk boxers? They are so…” She waved her hand in the air for effect, encompassing her and him and the whole of her pale blue bedroom. “So hot.”

He ducked his head down to peer at it. “You think?” He winked as he asked.

She laughed again.

“I’ve only seen you in those cute cotton ones at the cottage. I can’t remember what you wore last night, or when you were here the night before. Sorry.” She furrowed her brow. “Don’t tell me you have a different wardrobe when you travel?” She paused, catching his gaze.

“Well, don’t you?” he teased.

“Nope,” she said with a smile. “I guess I’ll have to get used to it, now that I have a hundred new outfits to choose from.”

He had a look like he was processing what she had said, and then shoved his sweat pants to the floor. He leaned over to untie his sneakers and pull them off, followed by his socks, and then the pants. Now, clad in nothing but those spectacular boxers, he placed his hands on his hips and widened his stance. Tilting his chin up, he squared his shoulders.

“What do you think of them now?”

She whistled low. Reverting back to her previous inner dialogue, she reached her arms out and asked him to apologize for being so much of a tease. This man was designed by God for reverence. Eye candy, brilliance and a kind heart? Any sane girl would want him.

“Take me, Andrew.”

She scooted to the edge of the bed, and spread her arms and legs wide. His grin stretched from ear to ear. His full set of straight white teeth—and that soul-shaking smile around his eyes—captured her in its sensual trap. She just sighed as he slunk onto the bed and proceeded to strip her with said teeth.

Sexiest move of the century, she decided. He got her down to her bra and panties in record time. Hands or no hands.

“You are going to have to help me here, Abby. Roll over, or lift your hips.” His warm breath caressed her stomach, and she could swear she saw stars.

“How about I just toss these off and we get down to business?” she joked. Her voice was tight, strung a little shrill. She could admit it, she was hot and bothered—bothered because no man should be able to get her this turned on, this quickly. It was unhealthy. And troublesome. And perfect.

“Please,” he answered. Oh, and he was a gentleman. Excellent!

She sat up. Reaching behind her back, she unclasped her sports bra and stripped the cotton straps down one shoulder, then the other. This time, Andrew whistled.

“You like?”

She shimmied her shoulder and thrust out her chest. She preened under the widening of his pupils and the way his fingers flexed on the sheets. Her breasts were small, but she was perky and so ready for him.

“Very much,” he answered. “Sorry, my hands and eyes can’t take it any longer.”

He placed his palms over her breasts and massaged them. Abby swooned. Whimpering, she collapsed back onto her elbows and let her head flop. She closed her eyes. She wanted to savor the feel of his large, warm hands on her flesh.

Soon, his mouth replaced his hands and he was on top of her, pinning her to the sheets. She didn’t complain. She loved being under his hot chest, tight abs and strong legs. She writhed underneath him, silently begging him for more with every nonverbal wish her body could conjure.

His hand stroked down her stomach and under the elastic waistband of her panties. His fingers moved over her mound, pressing on her clit, and finally slipping along her slit. She was so wet; so ready. Andrew made her soaking wet with need every time without fail. She spread her legs wider under his exploration, and lifted her hips as he eased his digits within her core. She ground her pelvis into his hand. She had needed this so much more than she was ready to admit to anyone, including herself. She couldn’t imagine before Andrew anymore. Her body must have been in stasis, waiting for him to make her sensuality come alive and fly up to the stratosphere.

He groaned, “God, Abby. You’re so wet; so willing. I can’t be without you anymore.” In seconds, after echoing her thoughts out loud, he had them both naked; their underwear tangled in a ball on the floor somewhere.

He braced his weight on extended arms locked beside her head, then slid forward and entered her. His thick, hard cock promised every sort of wicked deed as it went.

“Harder,” she begged.

She thought about being on top of him, but as he picked up the pace and rammed her into the bed—the springs protesting his strength—she didn’t dare argue for position. He took her to places, and touched her in places in her mind she had never been before. She let her head dip back as she rode the waves his touch created.

Her body shuddered as she came; first, as he got into the powerful rhythm that would cause them both to come apart into a million sharp-edged pieces of shattered ecstasy. And then again, as she felt his warmth coat her inner walls and claim her as his again. As he collapsed on top of her, she felt the L-word at the tip of her tongue. She loved him. She could barely wait for him to say it to her one day soon—and wished he would open up to her about his pain. Whatever it was, it ran deep.

ABBY’s day flew by before she could blink twice. It felt that way. After Andrew left that morning, she showered and rushed to her seminar. The two hours seemed to be over so quickly—probably because she had spent most of it daydreaming about him.

It’s not that the professor was dull. She had always enjoyed these morning sessions. The problem was that not thirty minutes before her seminar started, she was wrapped up in Andrew’s warmth. She could only imagine what she looked like, sitting there in the seminar boardroom. Kiss-blush wouldn’t do her dreamy-eyed musings any justice; not at all.

The rest of the day was similar. After lunch with some classmates, she spent the afternoon outlining the next section of her independent project report. She had made the effort to focus, and thankfully, had found she got into the zone with no problem. Maybe the seminar was dreary after all.

At five in the afternoon, she headed home to get ready for another night with Andrew. She wasn’t sure what to wear on this boating excursion, given it was January, and cool at night. She settled on a navy and white striped strapless dress. It had a hemline that met her below the knee. She found a red cashmere throw to go over top. Just in case, she brought along a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a light jacket.

Again, Andrew was running late and sent the driver over. She wondered what he was up to—not that she was worried. She was more curious than anything about the type of work he did for Dr. Sansbury while he was in town.

The driver helped her out when they got to the ramp closest to Andrew’s boat. He was waiting for her on the wooden pier walkway, and walked down to meet her. He looked scrumptious in his khaki slacks, a white cotton blend shirt, and a navy sweater, with the sleeves wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He looked perfectly bourgeoisie; except he was Andrew, with that warmth in his eyes and smile.

“How was your day?” he greeted her, kissing her warmly on the cheek. God, he could make the electricity flow through her from his touch.

“Great. Yours?”

“Awesome,” he answered, taking her hand to lead her to the boat. “You look fantastic.”

“All thanks to your people.”

“Glad to hear. All set?”

“Very. And excited for this cruise, too.”

“Good. The food is ready.”

He pointed out a sleek cream yacht. He really should have called it a ship—it was massive. Once she got on, two men undid the moorings and came aboard.

“So you must have a crew for this…this…is this a yacht? It seems much bigger.”

“Yes it is. I’ve not much larger than the usual. And yes, there’s a crew and small kitchen staff for dinner. Ready to eat?”

“Yes, I’m starved. Lead the way.”

***

The yacht-ship they were on was stunning, but nothing could have prepared her for the sights and sounds—and tastes—of their night cruise. Once they left the harbor, she could barely breathe. The vistas, lights and water-view of San Francisco’s landmarks took her breath away. The food was absolutely divine, but even then, as they passed beneath the San Francisco Bridge, she put her fork down and almost ran to the bow to look up at it.

Andrew came to her side and held her around her waist.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I’ve been missing out on lots.”

“How so?”

“This is my sixth year living in this city, and I’ve never seen it from this…perspective.”

He rubbed her arm and pulled her close. “You’re shivering. We should go back inside.”

She hung on to his arm and went in with him. “I’d love to come again during the day, if we can.”

“Of course,” he answered. “Anything you want.”

“Careful, sailor,” she cautioned. “Those words can be dangerous to a man’s health.”

“Oh?” he smiled down at her as they got back to the dining table. “How so?”

She looked around, and then back up to him. “I can show you, but this part of the ship, the deck is it?” He nodded so she went on, eyebrows raised. “The deck is a little too…public. Can we go inside? Or downstairs?”

“Yes, there’s a cabin down below. Why? Getting a little frisky, are we?”

“With you around, all I am is frisky these days. Come on. Let’s go,” she said, widening her smile. “I’ll show you danger.”

They got down to the private cabin. Abby pulled him inside to the bed. She sat on the edge and wasted no time in reaching for his belt buckle. Slipping the strip of leather from his pants, she spun it about, humming seductively as she went, and flung it across the room. She heard it hit the wall and cringed a bit, then smiled.

“Oops. Sorry.”

If it left a scratch or hole, she would feel so dumb. The room was spacious. Abby could feel the gentle rocking of the yacht as it moved over the waves.

“So tell me, what’s dangerous about this?” he asked, sliding his hands gently over her hair while she pulled his slacks to the ground. As always, his touch set her on fire.

“Nothing really.” She looked up at him and licked her lips slowly. “It sounded good when I said it. You know what?”

“What?”

“Sit here,” she instructed, patting the spot on the bed beside her.

“I want to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

She paused before she spoke. She had not intended to share anything—it was a moment of clarity. “I never dreamed of anything like this.”

“What do you mean? Cruising on the yacht?”

“Yes. No. Yes and no.”

“You’re confusing me, Abby.”

She shifted and turned to him. “I mean yes, the yacht, and dinner last night, and being with you. And enjoying our time together.  A week ago, I didn’t know you. A week ago, I had not even wished for anything quite this—intense, and amazing, and beautiful, you know?” She paused as she felt her eyes welling up with tears. She was grateful he didn’t react to them, but waited for her to continue. “I want to tell you thank you, Andrew. I’ve never felt so alive.”

He reached both arms around her and gave her a warm, long embrace. “You don’t have to thank me. I should be thanking you. For that screeching whistle on the night of the blizzard. It was what helped me find you. And you’re right, it’s not been a week. But it’s been the best few days I’ve ever had. You couldn’t know how wonderful this time has been for me too. There’s no gift I could give you, no yacht, no meal, no clothes that I could buy you that would adequately show you the difference you’ve made in my life. Thank
you
, Abby.”

They sat silently and held each other for a few minutes, basking in the moment.

***

ANDREW thought he had had a winning idea when he pulled Abby into the suite’s shower stall, but now that she followed him there, he reconsidered. In hindsight, the tub in the next suite would have been a better option for what he planned. This stall barely had enough room for one—let alone two full-grown adults. And since one of them was him, a strapping over-six-foot hulk, there was even less room. Abby was facing the showerhead, her eyes shut tight, and sighing in the hot stream of water as it cascaded down her face and over her breasts.

He envied her. In the back of the shower where he stood, it was chilly. And he was naked. He also envied the water. To caress those perfect, perky, just large enough, but not too large breasts of hers, were a pleasure he was quickly realizing he could allow no one else the pleasure of. Ever. It didn’t matter they had only been together for days. Already, he was looking forward to many, many more such interactions. Everywhere and anywhere.

He covered her eyes, though unnecessary, with his large hands, stepping close into her backside. The small of her back cradled his erection. Good, God, she was a delicacy.

“Hey,” she purred, shimmying against his shaft, making him harder, although he hadn’t been sure that was possible. She moved to turn around. He stopped her. She twisted her neck and lifted a brow in question. “No kiss?”

“Not yet.”

Reaching for the loofa hanging from the faucet, he grabbed the container of body wash and plopped a sizable dollop of soap on the body sponge. He wet the loofa and soap under the spray, and began on her stomach. She leaned back into him, her shoulders on his chest. She sighed, and he could swear her whole body melted into him.

“You know, Andrew. I can bathe myself.” Her words were slurred. Had he not been positive all she had drunk with dinner was one glass of white wine, he would have thought she’d had a few beers.
She must be love-drunk on me
, he fantasized, liking the idea. Drunk on pleasure.

“Oh, I know. But you can’t tell me this isn’t more fun.”

“Fun…” she said as she shimmied her hips again, rubbing her smooth and damp skin over his silky steel. “I like fun.”

“And I like you that way,” he whispered in her ear, leaning close enough to lick her lobes and make her moan.

He used the loofa to massage and knead her breasts, making sure to avoid her nipples. He then moved down to stroke the soaped, rough sponge over her thighs and between her legs, not once touching her pussy. She was huffing; frustrated by the time he leaned back. He began again on her backside, spending an inordinate amount of time on the globes of her ass.

Falling carefully to his knees in the tiny space, he stroked down and around her knees, calves, ankles, and after a quick warning, under the soles of her feet. Then, and only then, he let her turn around. He was face to face with her mound. He needed her more than he could admit. He slid his palms between her legs and opened her thighs. She gripped the top of the stall and hung on.

The sweet scent of her scrubbed and soaped body filled his nostrils and made Andrew crave vanilla in a completely unhealthy way. He nuzzled her clit with his nose. He palmed her ass and shifted her closer, lapping at her folds, tasting her nectar.

“Andrew, please…”

My name. Her lips. Perfection.

He tilted her pelvis; she responded by raising one foot to balance on the small raised entry of the stall. She was spread wide for him. She wanted him as much as he needed her. He kissed her mound, and then her lips. He opened her with his tongue, stroking along the side, feeding from her.

Pulling back, he breathed warm air across her skin. She groaned and he did it a second time. He rubbed his lips across her labia, increasing the intoxicating friction. He tickled the back of one knee, and then her clit. He had her shaking with desire. She flexed, and her wetness coated his chin. She was sweet and salty. She was goodness and light and…maybe love? He wasn’t sure, but knew it was close; definitely more than lust alone.

Her clit was swollen, hard, beckoning. He moved to kiss her there, replacing his mouth on her pussy with his fingers. Sinking two fingers inside her, he penetrated her and returned his lips to suck her clit, flicking it with his tongue. He nibbled on her flesh as she writhed above him.

She screamed as she came.

He didn’t stop. He teased her anew. He didn’t give up, wouldn’t give up. He had much more in store for her. This was only the beginning.

Her body tremored through her orgasm. After a few minutes, she peeked down at him, grinning. A lazy, sexy-as-sin, grin.

He grinned back. “That’s number one.”

“Number one?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “I have at least a few more planned before I take you.”

Her eyes rolled back and she flushed pink from her toes to her head. He took that as agreement. Great, she was on board.

***

ANDREW cleared the ship’s crew and the cooking staff from the deck before leading Abby upstairs. It was cool on the water at night, so they wore robes, and he brought up a few extra blankets. The straps of vinyl creaked when he sat on a lounge chair. He invited her to relax beside him in his chair, and she did. She nestled in close beside him and he wrapped his arm around her. She stretched up and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek, then slouched back down and looked up at the sky.

All around them, the night sky was darkened. The stars above twinkled into existence one by one. She pointed them out with child-like excitement as they appeared. Andrew was fairly sure she made up some of the names, but he didn’t care. It was sweet.

“Do you hear that?” she asked, picking up her head and glancing behind them.

“No. What is it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s just us.”

She didn’t look away or smile. He touched her cheek. She flicked her eyes in his direction, then back at the enclosure.

“Abby, what is it?” His tone serious, all of a sudden.

“It sounded like a click, then a laugh.”

He frowned. That didn’t make sense. His staff were professionals. They would never risk their jobs by spying.

“You heard someone laughing?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” he relaxed. “Nothing to worry about.” he knew what she’d heard. There were two boats close to starboard. Not close enough to collide, but sounds carried over the surface of the water.