Someone Like You (19 page)

A large hand covered her ass. She screeched in shock and whirled around, blinking water out of her eyes. Pierce stood there, naked and smiling wickedly. “Weren't you going to invite me to join you?”

“Jesus Christ, you scared me!” she laughed, though her heart still pounded in her chest. “I didn't even hear you come in.” She reached out to pinch his nipple and he yelped. “You're a bad, bad boy, Pierce Harrison.”

“Only sometimes. But you love that about me.” His voice was a low, teasing rumble. Then he smiled wider and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his hard body. “Good morning, Coach.” His mouth sealed onto hers, kissing her with long, sweet sips. Their bodies molded against each other as they sank into the embrace, tongues swirling as the water glided down over them. Moving to trail his mouth along her neck, he reached up to fondle one breast, then the other. “Last night was amazing,” he whispered in her ear, licking drops of water from her skin. “
You're
amazing, Abby.”

A wave of relief and pleasure whooshed through her. “You are too.”

He grinned and kissed her again, his hands sweeping over her wet breasts, teasing her nipples into hardness. His erection pressed against her belly, demanding attention. “Abby . . .”

She reached down in between them and found him. Eyes locked, he sucked in a breath at her touch. With his skin wet, she was easily able to stroke him. His breath hitched and he groaned as his eyes closed in ecstasy, his hands never leaving her breasts.

An idea struck her, and she reached over for the body wash. Squirting some into her hand, she went back to his erection, lavishing long strokes on his shaft with the lather, hoping the slippery sensations would please him even more.

“Oh, holy fuck,” he moaned, leaning back against the tiled wall, pulling her with him. “Christ, that feels so good.”

She loved the feel of him in her hand, the hardness beneath the velvety skin. As she moved her hand faster, a raspy groan floated out of him. The jets of water hit him from the side now, flowing down over his body. His head thrown back, eyes closed, chest heaving as he panted, all of his muscles tightened as his hips rocked . . . he was the sexiest, most gorgeous man she'd ever laid eyes on. She was completely captivated, and felt a surge of power that she could make him pant and moan. And at that moment, he was hers. All hers. “I love doing this to you,” she said.

He grunted in response as his hand left her breast to tangle in her wet hair and pull her mouth to his. His kisses were hungry, consuming as she continued stroking him. The rocking of his hips was urgent as his other hand slid between her legs. “I need to be inside you,” he gasped, plunging two fingers deep inside her.

Her legs almost gave out as the pleasure seared through her. She was already so wet for him, so needy. “Then take me,” she breathed.

He gave her a ravenous kiss before pulling away from her. Panting herself now, she watched as he opened the shower door, reached over to the marble counter of the sink, and snatched up a packet of shiny foil. As he tried to rip it open, it slipped between his fingers and he laughed. “My hands are too wet.” With a growl, he tore the condom open with his teeth, making Abby giggle. But as soon as he rolled it on, he grabbed her, pressed her against the wall, and hitched her leg up with a strong hand. He thrust his tongue into her mouth as he thrust his cock deep inside her.

She cried out and grasped his shoulders, holding on for the ride as the water beat down on them. Her mind went blank, lost to the incredible sensations pummeling her . . . the water cascading over her skin, his slick, tight muscles beneath her hands, the urgency of his breathing, warm in her ear as his hips thrust over and over again.

“Christ, what you do to me,” he growled against her cheek before covering her mouth with his. The swirls of his tongue matched his hard thrusts inside her, making her legs weak and her heart pound wildly. She was vaguely aware of moans, pleading sighs—God, that was
her.

He reached down in between their wet, slick bodies and found her clit. Her whole body bucked as she cried out, but he held her tight, not letting up the pace of his thrusts as his fingers rubbed the most sensitive part of her. She felt the waves rising, nearing the crash, then went right over the edge, shouting his name as her body clenched and shook. She clung to him, biting his chest to silence her helpless moans, and felt his other hand tighten in her hair as he held her against him. When the last aftershocks skimmed over her and her head fell back against the tile, he kissed her mouth once and turned her around.

Even though her orgasmic haze hadn't cleared yet, she knew what he wanted and positioned herself so he could take her from behind. He grabbed her hips and pushed his hard shaft into her, a low groan ripping from his throat as he slid deep inside. It only took a few thrusts before he came with loud grunts, moaning as his body rode out the wave.

He pulled out of her slowly, tossed the condom away to the far corner of the shower floor, and turned her to face him, kissing her passionately as their arms circled each other. The water continued to beat down on them and he licked and nipped at her skin as they both caught their breath.

“Good morning, tiger,” he finally murmured.

“Good morning yourself.” Her legs were still trembling, and she didn't care.

“I say we go back to bed,” he said with a sultry, satisfied grin. Water dripped down into his eyes and he blinked the drops away. “I'm wrecked. You wrecked me.”

Smiling with drained elation, she trailed her mouth along his wet chest, up his neck, kissing as she went, bringing a long shiver from him as she molded herself to his body. “You promised me breakfast.”

He let out a low laugh. “Demanding woman, aren't you?”

“Yes. And hungry.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips and look into his eyes. “I worked up an appetite.”

“Vixen,” he accused. His hands slid down her back to her ass and rested there as he took her mouth in a lingering, lusty kiss. “How about breakfast, then a short nap?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but said, “Deal.”

Chapter Seventeen

As promised, Pierce made breakfast for Abby, then they took a lazy nap. When they woke, they decided to go outside and take advantage of what was left of the gorgeous day. He carried two lounge chairs out to the lawn and found two baseball caps in Tess's extra room. Sprawled out on the chairs on the grass, both of them wearing caps to keep the sun out of their faces, they lay next to each other and talked as the clouds slid across the crisp blue October sky. He asked her about her friends, her hobbies, and she asked about his . . . but after a while, Abby turned the conversation to him, and possible new career paths.

“I've been thinking about it, actually,” she said.

“You have, huh?”

“Yeah. Have you considered joining the coaching staff, or even playing, for one of the American teams? Soccer here isn't what it is in Europe, but it's growing. Any team would probably love to have someone of your status on the roster.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Of course I've thought of that. I'd do coaching before playing, though. More of a long-term future in that; I'm thirty-one already. Just don't know if it's what I want to do.”

“You should look into it. You're a natural coach. You're great with the boys.” She turned her head to look back at him. “You really are, Pierce.”

“Thank you.” The side of his mouth curved up. “I like the kids. It's easy for me.”

“Well . . .” Her fingertips ran slowly up and down the side of her water bottle as she thought. “The truth is, you don't need money. Which is a nice position to be in. So since you have that freedom, and you really like working with the kids, what if you did something like coaching kids' teams, or sponsoring clinics, that sort of thing? Like, across Long Island, or even in the city?”

He paused, and pulled down the brim of his cap a little lower. “Um . . . I don't need to worry about money, that's true. But Abby . . . just so you understand, my money is
mine.
I only use the money I've made playing football for a decade. The money I've
earned,
not whatever I've inherited. I don't touch the Harrison money. It can sit there and rot for all I care. I don't want it, and I don't use it. So yes, I'm very comfortable, but not a billionaire.”

She sat up, the surprise obvious in her rounded eyes. “I wasn't saying that like—Pierce, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you.”

“You didn't, babe. You didn't.”

“Your finances are none of my business.” Her gaze shot to the horizon as a hint of pink stained her cheeks.

“Abby. Sweetheart. Listen to me.” He sat up too, swinging his legs over the side of the chair to face her. “You weren't prying, and you weren't offensive. I think everyone probably thinks the way you do, that I'm just coasting through life on my family's billions. But since you brought it up, I thought you should know that I'm not. It's there, yes, but I don't use it.”

“Is it, like, in a fund for you somewhere?” she asked, cautiously inquisitive. “I'm sorry, I'm curious now, I admit it. I've never known any family with your wealth. I don't know how any of that . . . works. Does that sound dumb?”

“No, not at all. Hey, my family's unusual on a good day.” He winked and held out his hands. She slipped her hands into his, and he gave them a gentle squeeze. “There's a trust fund, yes. I became eligible to have access to it on my twenty-fifth birthday. That was a dig from Dad. Charles, Dane, and Tess all had access to their money on their twenty-
first
birthdays. But Dad claimed he didn't think I was responsible enough to handle it at twenty-one.”

Abby shook her head. “That seems unfair. I mean . . . that was an intended slight?”

“Yup.” His shoulder lifted in a careless shrug. “Didn't make any difference to me. I never planned on using it. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a hypocrite. I wasn't made to feel like a part of the family because of him; I wasn't going to take anything that came from him.” A crow squawked from the trees, loudly enough to echo along the great lawn. “Besides, by twenty-one, I'd already been in England for three years, supporting myself just fine. I got decent money playing. And once I gained some fame, I got endorsement deals, and that brought in as much as my playing football. I made sure I wouldn't need the old man's funds.”

“That's admirable. And I understand all that, I really do.” Abby adjusted her cap to better block the sun. “But what if you change your mind one day? Will you still have access to it, if you need it or want it?”

“Sure. It's mine. But . . .” He turned his head to look out at the Sound in the distance. “I hope I never need it. I do what it takes to ensure that I don't. I have my own, that I earned honestly.”

Abby stared at his profile, then took her hands from his to hold his face. She kissed him tenderly. “Okay. So, back to what we were talking about, then. Your career. You'll need to do something or you'll get bored.”

He grinned that crooked grin she adored. “Yeah, probably. So you really think I'm a good coach, huh?”

“I really do.” She lay down again, adding casually, “And I'm not just saying that because you screwed me senseless last night.”

He barked out a laugh. “And this morning, too, thank you very much.” He stretched out on his chair too, crossing his arms behind his head as a pillow.

“True, true.” She grinned, enjoying the feel of the breeze sweep across her body. “I'm not asking how much money you have, because I don't care. But what if you bought a share in a team or something? You know, took a stake in one, like a sponsor? Got involved in management somehow? Does anything like that appeal to you?”

“Hmmm . . .” He was quiet, and she waited for him to think and respond. “Possibly,” he finally said. “I'd have to look into it more. But honestly, I think right now I like the coaching idea more. What you said earlier, about my having more freedom because I don't have to worry about income? That's true. I
am
lucky in that, so I really can do what I want. Just . . . have to figure out more precisely what that is.”

A breeze blew across the property, carrying the scent of the Sound and a hint of a chill. She wrapped her arms around herself.

“Are you getting chilled?” he asked. “We could go inside.”

“In a few minutes,” she said. “I'm enjoying the fresh air. And relaxing with you like this. It's nice to have some downtime.”

He slanted her a sideways look. “I do relax, you know. Often. More than I should these days, probably.”

She only grinned.

“Abby?” He shifted to lie on his side. “I want to ask you something pretty forward, and I'm asking because I want a truthful response. All right?”

“Sounds ominous,” she murmured.

“No. Maybe.” The side of his mouth quirked up. “The chemistry between us is hot, no question. But . . .” He tried to formulate his question correctly. “I know you've been burned. I know you don't really trust guys. So why did you take a chance with me? I really want to know.”

Her lips parted and her eyes flew wide. “What? What do you mean?”

“I think the question's pretty straightforward, Abby.”

“I—I'm with you because I like you.”

“Why?” He peered closer at her. “I know what I like about you, besides your gorgeousness. It just occurred to me . . . what do you see in me? Because I'm . . . really not sure.”

She sat up and turned to him. “I've never heard you say or do anything that didn't smack of swagger. You're so self-assured. This . . . wow.”

He didn't say anything, just kept his eyes on hers.

She stared back, the ends of her hair twirling from the breeze. “I do like you, Pierce. I'm not just with you because of sex, if that's what you're thinking. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly attracted to you, and yes, that's a part of it. But . . .” She glanced down at her hands, twisting nervously in her lap, then back up at him. “I admire and respect your strength, and your seemingly unshakeable self-confidence. You're clever, not some dumb jock. You're warmer than you let on, I've seen you with the kids. You have a good nature, and you have a good heart. And . . . I just . . . feel . . .”

“A connection?” he offered quietly.

Her eyes locked with his. “Yes. Yes, I do feel that. You do too?”

“From the first day.” He sat up to draw her closer, kissed her lips gently. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being open and honest with me. I believe you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Have you thought I've just been with you because you're a sex bomb, because you're kind of famous, or because you're rich? God, it was never about your money, or your name. Tell me you didn't think any of those things.”

“Nope. I knew that about you without a doubt. Actually, I thought you didn't like me, until recently. Until I realized you were just . . . scared of me. You know?” His hand lifted to trail along her neck, down her shoulder, down her arm. “Sex bomb? I like that. And yeah, that's part of it.” He winked. “We're both human, and the attraction between us is red-hot. But no, I never thought for a second you were with me because of the other things you said.” He paused before admitting, “Most of the women I've been with, that's
all
they saw. You, that was never it. You saw . . . a user. A man who could be dangerous to you, emotionally. And I guess I'm just trying to get some assurance that you don't anymore. I really want you to feel comfortable with me. Good about it. About us dating.” He raked his hands through his hair and sputtered, “Am I making any sense?”

Her mouth dropped open in obvious surprise, but she nodded.

She moved off her chair and dropped to her knees, sliding his legs apart so she could move between them. On her knees, she leaned in to hold him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging tightly. He returned her embrace as she whispered into his ear, “You're a better man than you think you are. I see that in you.” Her fingers ran through his hair, played along the back of his neck. “I didn't at first, you're right. But I do now, and I'm here because I want to be. I slept with you, and stayed over last night, because I want to be with you.” She pressed kisses to the side of his face, his jaw, his neck as he buried his face in her hair and breathed her in. “I think we've both suffered heartbreaks, of different kinds, and maybe that's left us both more afraid of what's happening here than either of us realized.”

“I think you might be right,” he murmured. One of his hands cradled her head as the other rubbed her back. “But I want this . . . whatever this is. I want you, Abby.”

She held him tighter and whispered into his ear, “You have me.”

They held each other as breezes blew across the grass, the high noon sun warmed them, and the only sounds were those of birds singing and the leaves of the trees around the perimeter whooshing in the wind.

Pierce marveled at the woman in his arms.

In Abby, he had found someone he enjoyed talking with just as much as he enjoyed sleeping with. She was sharp, insightful . . .
so
smart. Hell, the truth of it was, she was probably smarter than he was, and he was no slouch.

He loved that. He respected her.
That's
what had been missing with all those other women he'd dated. He either hadn't really respected them, hadn't genuinely liked them, or both. But . . . maybe, he'd done that purposely, knowing he'd never truly click with an empty-headed woman and wanting to keep his solitude safely in place.

Abby challenged him, and made him work for it. Made him look at things differently. And he liked that. He liked how she made him think, and that she made him feel emotions he hadn't before.
Connected
. He felt truly connected to her. Making love with her, staying with her, talking with her, all of it had sealed that for him.

He blinked.
Making love?
He didn't make love, he fucked. Crude as it was, that was the truth. But . . . last night, this morning . . . the way they'd looked deeply into each other's eyes as he moved inside her, the way she'd breathed his name as she rocked with him . . . that wasn't just a fuck. That was something more. She was so much more to him now.

His heart started to pound a little harder as realizations flooded him.

Abby lifted her head. “What are you thinking about now?”

“You.” He tipped up her chin so he could kiss her mouth. “Still you.”

“Oh really? What about me?” she asked, shifting to a better position so she could look into his eyes as they talked.

He glanced down at her chin and saw the splotches of red there, and on her neck and chest. “Jesus, I scraped you up with my beard. I'm sorry, Abby. I should go shave.”

“Don't you dare,” she commanded. “I like your scruff. It's hot.”

“Glad you think so. But your skin's all—”

“I have sensitive skin. So what? Do you hear me complaining?”

“You will when I send you home like this and your parents see you all scratched up.” A thought occurred to him. “Shit, your father'll come looking to kick my ass.”

She laughed, a full, delicious sound, and he had to kiss that sweet mouth. He cradled her, held her head with his hands as his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting and savoring her. He felt her hands roam down his back and it made him shiver.

“I interrupted you,” she finally said when he let her come up for air. “What did you want to say to me?”

He gazed down at her, steeling his resolve. Once the words were out there, he couldn't take them back. Damn, he hadn't felt this vulnerable in a while. He knew he wanted this, but did she? Only one way to find out. “Like I told you before, I'm moving back here. Whether it's Long Island or the city, I'm not sure yet, but I'm staying. And I . . . I want to keep seeing you. Only you. For us to date exclusively.”