Code name omega, p.8
Code Name: Omega, page 8
Saint texts back immediately. Bite me.
Chuckling, I put my phone on my stomach and focus on the TV.
“What do you want to watch next?” my dad asks. He’s cocked back in my recliner, remote control in his hand. We just finished a World War II documentary, and I only paid partial attention, instead thinking about Abby.
Which is very telling since I love history as much as my dad does, and watching documentaries is something we often do together.
“I don’t care,” I say, my fingers curling tight into my palm to force myself to not pick up the phone to text her.
Pointing the remote at the TV, he turns it off. I’m surprised as it’s far too early for him to go to bed. Mom went in about half an hour ago because she has a book she wants to read, but Dad’s a night owl like me.
“Okay… spill it. What’s got you in a jumbled mess? Is it Adriana?”
I shoot him a chastising look. “Why would you assume it was her? And for the record, no. I rarely think about her.”
Unless it’s to wonder when I can get the fuck out of the business. She has yet to email me the documents to review, but since she hung up on me during our last conversation, not shocking. Maybe I should just let an attorney handle this.
Dad looks at me pointedly. “I don’t know. It sort of feels like a girl thing.”
Christ. I scrub my hand over my head, marveling at his uncanny ability to pick up on even subtle nuances in behavior. He’s not a psychologist. He’s never studied human behavior. He’s never tended bar where he might get to hear all the problems in the world and be able to deduce mine.
No, Charlie McCord is a mechanic who is more in tune with cars than people.
But he’s a father, and he knows his only son well.
“Definitely not Adriana.” I feel it bears repeating so we can move on from that. Dad likes to impart wisdom whenever he can, and I don’t need it where she’s concerned. “But there is a woman.”
“Lay it on me,” he says, motioning with his hand to indicate he’s ready to accept my burdens.
So I lay them out.
I tell him all about Dr. Abigail Blackburn without omitting a single detail. My parents are the least judgmental people in the world and wouldn’t ever think bad of Abby for stealing a dog or getting arrested for protesting. In fact, my mother would be the type to protest with her. I tell Dad about the brief time we’ve spent together and that we have our first official date scheduled for next Friday, but that I can’t stop thinking about her.
It doesn’t feel weird to bare these things to my father. He’s always been the best sounding board, and his advice has never steered me wrong.
He listens thoughtfully, and when I’m done, he says, “I have to wonder why you’re here rather than with her. If you like her so much, why are you waiting until next weekend? I mean, you spontaneously brought her lunch yesterday and that pleased her.”
“Well, yeah. But I kind of have company visiting this weekend.”
Dad chuckles at my snark. “And we had a great time hanging out today. But”—he looks at his watch—“it’s ten thirty, which isn’t late by you young people’s standards and we spent all day together. Why don’t you go see her?”
My hand jerks reflexively and without any conscious thought, I grab my phone from my stomach. But I only hold it. “Just call her up and see if she wants to hang?”
“Why call her?” he says slyly. “She seems like a girl who likes the spontaneous in you.”
“It’s ten thirty. It’s late.”
“Good God,” my dad drawls, “are you seventy-nine or twenty-nine?”
I snicker. “I’m most definitely not seventy-nine.”
My dad points to the door. “Go. Drive over there, see if the lights are on. If they are, knock on the door. If they aren’t, knock on the door.”
“You’re a bad influence.”
“I’m a charmer, and you get it from me. I also go after what I want, and you most definitely get that from me. Don’t waste the passage of DNA, son. I’d be most disappointed.”
And that convinces me right there. I love and respect my dad. I model myself after him, so if he’d go throw pebbles at a girl’s window late at night, why shouldn’t I?
“Word of advice,” he says as I rise from the couch.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t do the whole boom box thing outside the window playing a corny song. It’s not a good look.”
He’s referring to when I was fifteen and had a crush on a girl who was two years older than me. I’d seen the movie Say Anything, and it appealed to my romantic side. I thought I might have a shot of losing my virginity with the same stunt.
Didn’t work.
Dad didn’t know my original intent, but he knew what I did because I told him. I also told him that she rolled her eyes, slammed her window shut, and cut me off at the knees.
It was a lesson, and he consoled me. I lost my virginity not long after that and didn’t even have to humiliate myself. Turns out, genuine feelings for a girl I started dating, mixed with teenage lust, did the trick.
“Don’t wait up for me.” I grin at my dad as I move to the recliner and lean to squeeze his shoulder. “Will you let Bubba and Princess out one more time before you go to sleep?”
“Got it covered,” he says, patting my hand.
I stop by the kitchen and grab something that could be considered romantic. Maybe I should call Abby to ask if I can come over—but I think she enjoyed me showing up out of the blue the other day, so I’m banking on that same reception.
When I pull onto the property, I don’t fork left toward the clinic but instead take the gravel driveway that goes toward the main house. As I drive past the mass of rhododendrons that had blocked my view of the barn when at the clinic, I have a clear line of sight to the horse paddock. There’s no outdoor lighting, but the moon is bright. From a security perspective, I’d suggest installing motion-activated lights at the least, but that’s not my primary purpose.
I’m here for a kiss because I don’t want to wait for dinner next week.
The garage apartment is on the far side of the house, so I follow the driveway and park behind a small Honda Accord that I assume is Abby’s. Lights are on in the apartment windows, and I spy an exterior staircase that leads up.
Everything is incredibly quiet as I make my way up to her door, illuminated by a soft, glowing outdoor sconce that a moth flutters around. I’m happy to see she has a peephole in the door, and after I knock three times, I stand back so she can get a good look at me.
I hear locks being undone, and my heart is about to leap out of my chest, wondering what she’ll answer the door in. Sweatpants? Lingerie? Welcoming smile? Anger for disturbing her?
It’s none of the above.
It’s better.
Frayed jean short shorts, a white tank top molded to her body so, for the first time, I actually get an idea of just how curvy she is. Bare feet, toenails painted pale pink, and fuck, if I don’t find the sexiest thing about her—the reading glasses perched on the end of her nose.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” Not the best greeting, but it’s what has my attention.
She grins and pulls them off. “I don’t, but I took my contacts out and still had some reading to do, so these help in a pinch.”
“I don’t peg you as a romance reader. Science fiction?”
“Studies on feline leukemia.”
“Same thing. Nerdy stuff. But the glasses don’t make you look nerdy. In fact, they’re kind of hot.”
Abby rolls her eyes, but they land on the container in my hand. “What’ve you got?”
“Bribery. Hoping I could talk my way inside to hang for a bit, and in return, I brought some amazing pineapple upside-down cake my mom made.”
A smile blooms bright on her face. “Yum. I have vanilla ice cream we can eat with it. Come on in.”
She spins from the door and starts to walk toward the tiny kitchen that’s separated from the living area by a small counter. I enter the apartment, shut the door, and reach out quickly to grab her wrist. She turns back to me in surprise, and I use the momentum to pull her to me. We’d be pressed against each other if it weren’t for the container of cake between us.
“That’s not quite the truth of why I’m here,” I say. She stares up at me with those clear green eyes, head tipped slightly with intrigue. “I came for a kiss. I can’t wait until next week.”
And fuck me… her eyes flash with something hot and needy. “A kiss.”
I nod. “Not asking permission. Giving you fair warning.”
Abby takes the container from my hands, and I expect her to slow things down by turning for the kitchen. Instead, she tosses the cake onto the nearby couch, along with her glasses, where they both tumble off and onto the floor. She doesn’t spare them a glance, and it doesn’t matter… the cake will taste just fine all mushed up. If her glasses broke, I’ll buy her a new pair.
My hand flashes out, grabs the waistband of her shorts, and I pull her hard into me. Abby gasps, but her eyes darken, like ferns under shade trees. I don’t touch her anywhere else, and we just stare at each other. I take in the long lashes framing those stunning eyes, the dark sweep of her bangs across her forehead. Delicate nose, aristocratic cheekbones, and a lush mouth. She’s a perfect creature, and I memorize the details so when I close my eyes at night, I’ll see them clearly.
Leaning down, I brush my lips over hers. A soft glide… really, it’s the permission I said I wasn’t asking for, but I’m a gentleman.
It’s only when Abby slides a hand behind my neck to pull me to her that I know she wants this as much as I do. Her mouth opens to me, and our tongues dance. My hands span her waist, and I hold her tight, content to feel her mouth alone.
But when she issues a low moan across my lips, I can’t help but let one hand slip down to cup her ass before pulling her flush against my body. And Christ, she feels good.
Way too fucking good as my cock starts to thicken, and that’s not what I came here for.
Not really.
I pull free of the kiss, and her eyes snap open to regard me with surprise. Brushing my lips gently against hers, I whisper, “If we don’t stop, this is going to go way too far, way too fast. I’m afraid, Dr. Blackburn, that you’ve got the ability to make me lose control.”
Abby leans in, presses her lips to the hollow of my throat, and murmurs, “If you’re looking for me to be the good little girl and accept your gentlemanly offer to slow down, you’re kissing the wrong girl.”
I smile as my forehead drops to hers. “Deep down, I know you’re going to be lots of trouble for me. Not sure what it says about me that I like that notion.”
Abby’s laugh is soft and husky. Her hands come to my face, and she pulls back slightly so our eyes meet again. “We’ve got two choices. We can go eat cake, or we can have sex, and I really don’t think the cake is a good choice, which is a very weird thing for me to say since I love cake.”
“I’m a guy, so you know I’m going to choose sex. Also, we can eat the cake after… in bed.”
“That might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she quips, and I laugh.
She’s fucking delightful. Witty, sexy, and I cannot wait to get between her legs.
No sense in waiting when she’s given the green light. I pull her tank top over her head, quickly followed with the swift removal of her bra. I step back and get an eyeful, her tits absolutely perfect, nipples already puckered tight.
I put my hands under her ass and lift her into the air, but not to kiss her on the mouth. Instead, I suck one of those perfect nipples into my mouth, causing her to groan. Leaning back, I grin at her. “Point me in the direction of the nearest bed.”
“Down the hall to the left.”
Moonlight filters through lacy curtains, dappling her bed. I drop her body there, and she gasps when my hands move immediately to her shorts. It’s a simple matter of undoing the button, whipping down the zipper, and pulling the offending denim away. Underneath is a minuscule pair of yellow lace panties.
I cup her between the legs, groaning at the heat and dampness I find there. I can’t even wait to pull them off her legs, instead inching my fingers under the material to plunge inside of her.
“Oh fuck,” Abby groans, bucking her hips upward. “That feels so good.”
“Going to feel better.” I lean over her, my free hand pressed into the mattress near her head, and crush my mouth to hers. A storm of lust swirls around us both, and I don’t hesitate to plunge my tongue into her mouth while I fuck her with my fingers. She’s so goddamn tight and hot and wet, and it’s crazy how fast this is all moving and yet it’s not going fast enough.
Abby starts tearing at my clothes, and because I need us both naked now, I help her. Able to kick off my shoes as she rips at my T-shirt, I bat her hands away as she’s more hindrance than help. I divest myself of clothing, but before I drop my pants to the floor, I grab my wallet and pinch the condom I’d tucked in there before I got out of the car.
Abby watches with interest, and I grin at her sheepishly. “I stopped at the store on the way. I wasn’t expecting this, but I knew it was coming at some point. I wanted to be prepared.”
Abby laughs. “You’re a regular Boy Scout.”
“The things I want to do to you they don’t teach in the Boy Scouts.”
“Can’t wait to see what you’ve got.” Abby pushes and kicks her panties down her silky thighs while I rip the condom open and roll it onto my cock.
“Scoot back and spread your legs,” I order her.
She doesn’t hesitate to obey, and while I know she expects me to fall on top of her for perhaps a fast and hard fuck, I’ve got other things in mind.
I need to taste her because she looks too sweet and tempting to pass up.
I put my mouth between her legs and feast.
She tastes so fucking good my balls tingle, and I have to wrap my hand around my dick and squeeze hard to calm it down. Abby bucks and groans and begs as my tongue works her clit.
She’s so fucking responsive, within minutes she’s pulling at my hair and begging me to finish her off. I surge up her body, bring my mouth to hers for a harsh kiss that has us knocking teeth, and slam my way home inside her body.
Abby breaks apart, an orgasm tearing through her as soon as I’m planted deep. She cries out my name, and I can feel the ripple of pleasure as muscles clench around me.
I thrust into her as she moans through her pleasure. I want to hear and feel that again, so I bring my hand down between her legs and work her clit, needing her to come one more time.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Abby chants as her legs encircle my waist and her arms go around my neck. She clings to me as I whisper dirty words in her ear and drive into her over and over again. I want to slow down, make this last, but it feels so good, there’s no way in hell I can back it down.
“I’m going to come again—” Abby screams out another orgasm that hits her faster than she could complete her sentence. Jesus Christ, she’s amazing, and I want to join her in that free fall too badly to wait any longer. I let go, and my orgasm rips violently through my body.
“Fuck,” I mutter with my lips against her throat, my hips still circling against hers to draw it out. “Fuck, that’s good. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
I collapse onto her, my chest heaving and every bit of strength fading away. I roll to the side and gather her in close so that our chests are pressed together. I can feel her heart thundering against mine.
Putting my hand to the back of her head, I graze my lips over her brow. “That was fucking amazing.”
“That was more than amazing,” she murmurs. “I’m not sure why we waited. We should’ve just gotten right to it as soon as you brought Bubba into the clinic.”
I bark out a laugh and pull her in closer, my hand sliding down her back to cup her ass intimately. “As soon as I get some feeling in my legs, I’m going to grab that cake.”
“Sorry if I ruined it.”
“You in no way ruined it. In fact, I’m thinking about dumping my portion out on your body so I can lick you clean.”
“Oh God,” she groans, wiggling her hips against mine. “That sounds like a fantastic idea. I’m going to do the same to you.”
And even though I just had the mother lode of all orgasms, my dick twitches at the thought of her licking pineapple off it.
I can tell that Abby Blackburn is definitely going to be trouble, and I’m here for it.
CHAPTER 9
Abby
“I think you’re a hit with my parents.” Kellen bumps my shoulder as we stand at the sink. I’m washing, he’s drying.
It’s only fair since his mother made us an amazing dinner. They’re currently in the living room loving on the dogs while we clean up the kitchen.
I bump Kellen back with my hip. “I definitely see where you get your charming personality… that would be your mom. And the chivalry—which could be considered romanticism—from your dad.”
“You think I’m romantic?”
I smirk at him. “Let’s see… you took Princess in, tried to avert my arrest, bailed me out of jail, brought me a sub and cake. Yeah, you’re totally romantic.”
“So, you’re saying that just bringing flowers doesn’t really do it for you?”
Laughing, I scrub leftover meatloaf from the glass baking dish. “I never said I didn’t like flowers, but if I had a choice, I’d take cake over flowers any day.”
Kellen’s head dips, and his mouth tickles my ear, his voice low and growly. “Especially what we did with that cake last night.”
A shudder ripples up my spine, because we made a mess of ourselves with that cake and then cleaned it up very well with our mouths. Let’s just say when we were done, we were both well acquainted with each other’s bodies.
I blushed so damn hard tonight when Kellen’s mom, Lila, asked me how I liked the dessert.
Oh, Lila… it was the best cake I’ve ever had in my life.
Yes, Kellen and I were intimate last night. It was fast… not even an official date in the books yet, but I don’t have a single regret. I’m into this guy in a way I haven’t been into anyone in years.
