“Again, Abby.”
She shook her head against the pillows. “I can’t.”
His hand glided around her hip and rubbed her clit. “Try. Reach for it. One more time. Come for me, baby. Squeeze my dick like before.”
Abby sobbed. She concentrated on the pull against her sensitive muscles. He pinched her clit, and she shouted as another orgasm rushed through her.
“Ah! Fuck!” Tinker shouted and buried himself deep, rubbing in circles as he hunched over her back. He stilled, then took them to their sides. Pulling her close to his front, he curled around her. They were still connected, but she could feel him softening.
“Give me a minute and I’ll get a cloth to clean you up,” he said against the back of her neck.
“Okay.” Her voice was hoarse from screaming.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I think I died.”
He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure you killed me, so it makes sense.”
“You were right, though,” she said.
“About what?”
“You are good with your hands.”
She felt his smile against her skin when he kissed her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
She was drifting off when something wet and warm rubbed between her legs. She cracked open her eyes. “You’re really cleaning me up?”
A self-satisfied smile spread across his face. “I’m taking it as a compliment you haven’t moved in the last few minutes, so yeah, I’m cleaning you up.”
Abby smiled and her eyes slid shut.
Pillow Talk
Tinker trailed his fingertips gently up and down Abby’s hip. God, she was beautiful. And she was there—in his bed. He wasn’t sure what had made her decide to hop into it with him, and he wasn’t stupid enough to press the issue. She was there and he was going to do everything he could to keep her there.
She stirred, inhaling deeply before turning to look over her shoulder.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“‘Bout one,” he said.
She bolted up, pulling the sheet around her breasts. “Shit. I need to text my mom.”
“Your purse in the living room?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Hang tight.”
He threw back the covers and walked naked out of the room. He grinned as he imagined the blush staining her skin. In the living room, he grabbed her purse from beside the couch. When he returned to his room, it was hard to tell for sure in the dim light of his room if she was blushing, but the way she lowered her gaze suggested she was.
He smiled as he handed Abby her purse, then slid a hand behind her head and kissed her. “You can look your fill anytime you want. Text your mom.” He released her, went into the bathroom, and closed the door.
After relieving himself, he washed his hands and slid into a pair of flannel pants hanging on the towel rack. He guzzled two glasses of water, refilled the glass, and took it to Abby.
