Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3 Page 13

  Abby took the clothes from him, blinking in surprise. She meant she didn’t care if he changed into more comfortable clothes. She would’ve been fine staying in what she had on, but … he was being so nice to her that she didn’t want to risk upsetting him by turning down his offer. “I believe you. Where should I change?”

  Lance hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll change in the bathroom. You can just change in here. I’ll knock before I come back out.”

  After he closed the door to the bathroom, Abby quickly stripped out of her clothes and put on the ones Lance had given her. Accepting them had been a good decision. They were soft and worn and smelled like clean laundry detergent with a faint hint of his cologne. The soft cotton enveloped her like a hug, and she immediately felt more relaxed. She’d have been in her own pjs a long time ago if she hadn’t been helping her mom.

  Abby had just put her clothes with her shoes and bag when Lance knocked on the bathroom door. “You can come out,” she called.

  Lance opened the door, still wearing the same undershirt, but with a pair of athletic shorts on instead of slacks. He tossed the pants on the floor with the rest of his dirty clothes. He looked at Abby sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, and stood stock still for a moment.

  Abby looked down at herself, confused by his reaction. “Is something wrong?”

  Lance gave himself a little shake, and his voice was husky when he answered. “No.”

  Walking over to the bed, he placed his hands on either side of her. He kissed her, pressing her back into the bed with his body. She opened for him, enjoying the sweep of his tongue into her mouth, the way his arms quivered as he held himself above her, the delicious weight of him between her thighs. Too soon, he broke the kiss, rolling to the side and pulling her against him so that her head was pillowed on his left shoulder, their intertwined legs still dangling over the edge of the bed.

  All her nerves having evaporated under the drugging effect of Lance’s kisses, Abby snuggled into him, smoothing the fabric over his chest. “What was with that look you gave me when you came out?”

  Lance kissed the top of her head. “What do you mean?” He did a good job of nonchalant confusion.

  Tilting her head up so she could look at his face, she gave him an I’m onto you look. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You stared at me for a minute. I thought I had something on my face. What was that about?”

  Lance’s eyes darted from hers to her lips before he dropped another quick kiss there. “I like the way you look in my clothes.”

  Abby snorted. “Yup. Nothing sexier than a girl in an oversized T-shirt.”

  Lance grinned. “Yup. Nothing sexier than a hot girl in my T-shirt. Especially when that hot girl is you.” He squeezed her against him, his hand sliding down to her ass.

  Another wash of heat creeping up her cheeks, Abby looked away. No one ever talked to her like that, and she didn’t know how to respond. She’d never spent a lot of time focused on her appearance, and while Megan sometimes helped her look nice and put together, she didn’t primp, and she preferred to be comfortable more than fashionable. Girl next door was how she’d describe herself, which meant that if a guy even noticed her, they didn’t usually pepper her with compliments. Relationships weren’t worth the effort, in her opinion, especially after watching Megan cycle through quite a few between high school and college. She always ended up crying over ice cream with Abby after a few months. What was the point?

  But with Lance—the way he made her feel, the compliments, the kindness—she was starting to see the appeal. Even if this couldn’t go anywhere since he was leaving in two months or so, what was the harm? For once in her life, she’d let herself just soak in the experience and enjoy it. And maybe knowing there was an end date would make it hurt less when he left. When Aaron had abandoned her, it was the lack of warning that left her reeling for months. But that wouldn’t happen with Lance. No expectations to be unfulfilled. She ultimately knew what to expect—an ending—and that meant she could just enjoy the ride until they got there.

  Lance gently placed his hand under her chin and tilted her face back up to him. His dark eyes searched her face like he could read her thoughts there, and heat bloomed over her cheeks again. She couldn’t help it. He made her feel so vulnerable and exposed every time he looked at her like that. People didn’t usually see her. And that was just fine. She preferred to fly under the radar. Less chance of anyone asking questions she didn’t want to answer. But Lance didn’t seem to care about her desire to stay hidden. He was found her behind every wall and made her face him. That’s why he was terrifying. But also addictive.

  “What’s with the blushing?” he asked, his voice low and amused. But not mocking. Like he enjoyed her blushes, even if he didn’t quite understand why she was constantly blushing around him. “Am I embarrassing you?” Abby nodded, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Because I called you sexy?” Lance’s grin took on a wicked edge when she nodded again. “Do I need to show you how sexy I think you are?”

  Abby’s eyes widened. “How would you do that?” The words came out as a hoarse whisper, escaping before she could think better of them and the obvious challenge they presented.

  “Oh, sweetheart, you’re killing me with the sexy bedroom voice.” Before she could respond, Lance had his mouth on hers again, firm and demanding. His left hand squeezed her ass, pulling her tightly against him so that she pressed her center against the hard muscle of his thigh. His right hand left her face and glided down to her waist, bunching up the fabric of her shirt until his hand slid underneath and rested on the bare skin over her rib cage.

  His hand spanned her waist from hip almost to her bra, hot and heavy. She loved the feel of his palm against her bare skin. Would his skin be as soft as hers? Did he have chest hair? Cautiously at first, but with growing confidence, she began to explore. Running her hand down the front of Lance’s shirt, she enjoyed the way his muscles tightened and relaxed under her caress. When she reached the hem, she slid her hand underneath, and confirmed that he did indeed have hair, a silky treasure trail surrounding his belly button and leading to his waistband.

  Lance’s fingers quested higher until they slid just under the elastic of her bra band and traced back and forth against her skin. “I thought you were going to get more comfortable,” he said against her mouth.

  “I did.”

  Lance made a sound of disagreement in the back of his throat. “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t be even more comfortable without the bra.” His hand traced under the band around her back until he came to the closure. His finger came out from under her bra and drew along the rectangle that held the hooks.

  Abby swallowed hard. He was basically asking to take off her bra. She could tell him no, but did she really want to? Hadn’t she already decided to enjoy the ride? “I guess I would be,” she whispered, breathless at her own reckless abandonment of her usual reserve. She didn’t want to be that way with Lance. Not anymore. She was tired of being caged in by her own walls. They were supposed to keep her safe, but right now she only felt trapped. Lance was offering an escape, at least for a little while, and she was determined to take it.

  He deftly undid the hooks on her bra one handed. Abby pushed aside all considerations on why exactly he was so good at that. Because thinking about how experienced he was—and her comparatively paltry experiences in comparison—only made her feel inadequate. And she was tired of feeling inadequate. She wanted to feel sexy, and that was just what he’d promised to do for her. Show her exactly how sexy he thought she was. There was no room for comparison and inadequacies in that equation.

  Releasing his grip on her ass, he brought both hands up the bare skin of her back, the shirt bunching around his wrists as he rotated her so she was flat on the bed. He claimed her mouth, kissing her deeply again. His hands slid under the fabric of her bra until they came to rest directly on her breasts, making her gasp and arch into his hands. He k
neaded her breasts while his mouth went exploring. Moving to one side, he kissed her just below her ear, behind the point of her jaw, then gently took her earlobe between his teeth, causing waves of goosebumps and shivers to erupt up and down her spine. No one had ever treated her ears that way before, and she squirmed under him, finding the whole experience unbearably erotic. After nibbling on her ear and tracing the shell with his tongue, he blazed a trail of hot kisses down the side of her neck.

  Abby suddenly felt cool air on her chest as his hands lifted away, exposing her breasts to his gaze. She barely registered the change before his hot, wet mouth was there, nuzzling, licking, suckling. His hand covered one breast, kneading the flesh and plucking at the nipple, while his mouth devoured the other. Then he switched, giving them equal attention.

  While his mouth was working on her breast, his right hand drifted down her belly until he encountered the waistband of her shorts. His fingers teased underneath, tracing the elastic band at the top of her panties. He lifted his head, and she opened her eyes to see why. He watched her face while sliding his hand beneath her panties, waiting for her reaction, which was to open her legs, creating space for his hand to fit between them. At her tacit permission, he slid his hand all the way down and cupped her mound. She spread her legs even more and rocked herself into his palm, wanting more friction, more heat. Just more.

  Lance groaned and took her mouth again. He rubbed his fingers over her, finding and circling her entrance. She gasped when he pressed one long finger inside, then drew it out and up, spreading her wetness all around. He worked her with his expert fingers, rubbing in all the right places in all the right ways, never releasing her from their kiss. Her breathing picked up, and sparks of electricity danced across her skin as she got closer and closer to the edge, pleasure building and building until she didn’t think she could take much more without exploding. She was panting hard when he finally broke the kiss, moving to her ear where he bit her lobe again and whispered, “Come for me.”

  Her body arched, her head pressed back into the pillows, and she reached a shuddering climax while his fingers continued to play her, drawing out her pleasure and slowly bringing her back down.

  Abby lay limp and sated, only opening her eyes when Lance finally withdrew his hand. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, and her limbs felt almost too heavy to move.

  He propped himself on his elbow, staring down at her. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Lance opened his eyes in the darkness. The empty spot next to him where Abby should be made him realize what had woken him. Reaching out, he found her sitting on the side of the bed.

  He ran his hand over her bare back. “What are you doing?”

  The bluish light of her phone cast a glow on her skin. “I have to go to the bathroom, and then I need to go home.”

  Lance rubbed his eyes, blinking against the intrusion of light in the dark room. “What time is it?”

  Abby turned to look at him. “Almost three thirty.”

  He groaned. Why was she awake? And if they were awake, they should be doing something other than discussing her leaving. “Come back to bed, baby. Let’s sleep some more before I take you home.” Reaching for her, he started to pull her back into bed. Her phone went dark, and he thought for a moment that she was giving in. But then her hand pushed on his chest, and her phone lit up again.

  She shook her head at him and got up. “I can’t. I have to pee.”

  Lance flopped back against the pillows, one arm thrown over his face, shielding his eyes from the blinding light seeping around the edges of the bathroom door. She’d closed it before turning on the light, at least.

  His other hand slid down under his shorts, gripping his still-hard cock. Stroking himself, he thought back over their evening together, trying to decide if he’d done anything that would make her want to scamper off already.

  After he’d made her come, he’d stripped her shirt and bra the rest of the way off, wanting to see all of her, and added them and his own shirt to the pile of clothes by the closet. She’d roused slightly from her boneless state, running her hand down his abs to his waistband. He’d stopped her, though, kissed her and gathered her against him again. They’d talked and kissed until they both fell asleep. He’d only wanted—no, needed—to feel her bare skin against his.

  Not that he didn’t want to get off. But if he was with Abby, he didn’t want to get off like that, in her hand. He wanted to be inside her, feeling her tight heat clenching around him. And he’d felt just how tight she was.

  But he didn’t think she was ready for that. Not yet. And he was prepared to be patient. Yesterday had been enough of a breakthrough, and he didn’t want to risk the fragile bond they’d established. Even what they did had clearly been out of her comfort zone, nervous and skittish again when they’d arrived at his house and blushing every time he complimented her. She’d just have to get used to that, though. It was obvious no one paid attention to her like that, and she spent so much of herself caring for her mother, that he was determined to care for her.

  And that meant waiting till he was sure she was ready.

  He was still amazed that she’d called him yesterday. He figured he’d be the last person she’d think to call when she needed help. Hell, maybe he was the last person. He hadn’t felt like questioning his good fortune yesterday, and he wasn’t about to now. When she’d actually opened up to him at dinner about the problems with her mom, he’d been floored. After what she’d told him, he understood her hesitation with him. Given all that she had on her plate with her mom and then the way the people who should’ve been around to help had bailed, why would she want to get involved with him? He’d already told her he was leaving in August. For someone who needed stability, someone to stick around, he was the worst possible choice.

  If he were a better man, he’d let her go. But he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He wanted to be selfish and spend as much time with her as possible, wring as much pleasure as he could out of this summer before resigning himself to the inescapable grind of working for his father. Not that his father was terrible to work for. It was just that Lance had no desire to be a mechanic for the rest of his life. It was fine as an after school job in high school, but that was enough to teach him what he didn’t want to do.

  But he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  So while he could still choose how he spent his time, he wanted to spend it with Abby. When she’d agreed to come home with him, he almost couldn’t believe it. Not only that, but she’d agreed to keep seeing him. Now that he had her, he didn’t want to let her go. He’d been sleeping so well with her spooned in close to him.

  He put a stop to that train of thought, other than to linger on the fact that he wanted her back in his bed. This was the first time he’d ever had this feeling, and he didn’t want to think too hard about why. All he knew was that she felt right in his arms. He didn’t care to examine anything beyond that. Especially not at three thirty in the fucking morning.

  The water in the sink shut off, and then the light flicked off and Abby opened the door. She had one arm crossed over her breasts, her phone in the other hand, the screen illuminated as she scanned the floor. After a second, she bent down and scooped her bra out of the pile of his clothes.

  Lance propped himself on his elbows, unhappy that she was getting dressed. She was supposed to be climbing back into bed with him. “Abby, what are you doing?”

  She stopped mid-step, her face unreadable in the low light. “I’m getting my clothes.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which he supposed it was, since he could see that’s what she was doing.

  He ran a hand down his face, too tired to want to have this conversation. “I can see that, but why?” Wasn’t she tired too? Didn’t she want to sleep more? With him? His bed was super comfortable. She’d even commented on it when she’d snuggled into him a few hours ago, sighing in contentment.

  Letting o
ut an exasperated breath, she stood with one hand on her hip. “I told you I need to go home. You don’t expect me to go in nothing but a pair of your boxers, do you?”

  “Of course not.” He was affronted at the suggestion. Those tits were only for his eyes. “I wouldn’t want anyone else seeing you like that.” He gestured to where her arm shielded her breasts from his gaze, wishing she would drop it. He’d already seen them, why bother hiding at this point? “But why do you have to go home now?”

  Abby sighed and turned to get her other clothes. “I have to be at work to run the first language lab at eight. I don’t want to wear the same clothes from yesterday. If I go home now, I can get a few hours of sleep before I have to get up and get ready.”

  While that sounded really reasonable—dammit, her reasons were always reasonable—Lance still didn’t like it. He swung his legs out of bed and caught her by the arm when she stood back up. Taking her phone from her hand, he set it down on the nightstand so the light shone at the ceiling and not in his face. “Or you could sleep for a few more hours here, and I’ll take you home with enough time to get ready and get to your language lab on time.” That was an equally reasonable suggestion. They both get more sleep, she gets to work on time in fresh clothes. Problem solved.

  Abby held her clothes in front of her like a shield and compressed her lips into a thin line. “Lance, I’d really like to go home now,” she said in a small voice. “I don’t want to do the walk of shame in front of your roommates or mine. Especially since we didn’t even have sex.”

  He pulled her closer to him, deepening his voice. “We could fix that, you know.”

  Abby huffed out a laugh, and he couldn’t help but smile in return. Freeing her hand, she patted him on the chest. “Yes, I’m sure we could”—a slight emphasis there—“but we’re not going to.” She paused, letting out a soft sigh. “Please, Lance. Just take me home.”