Tucker (The Family Simon 1)

Okay. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised as shit, but holy hell. Tucker was surprised as shit.

He slid one hand up her body until he cupped the back of her head, his long fingers buried in her hair. Gently, he forced her eyes back up to his and—yep—there went his heart, racing like a goddamn drum. Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom.

What. The. Hell. When was the last time he’d felt so alive? When was the last time his body and mind were in sync when it came to a woman? God, he wanted Abby, he wanted to be buried deep inside her, but it was so much more than that.

This here, what he was feeling, was already so much more than he’d thought it could be, and he decided there and then that he was going to explore the connection. As long as she was willing.

“Why did you wait so long?” he murmured, eyes locked onto hers intently.

For a few moments, there was silence and then she exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I…” She shuddered against him, and he felt something inside him crack.

“I was afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same.”

He groaned, one hand on her hip holding her in place while the other cupped the back of her neck. “Are you crazy? Who the hell wouldn’t want a kiss from you?”

She didn’t answer and her eyes were lowered, so he couldn’t see what was in them. And if anything, Abby’s eyes were a direct path to what was going on inside her head.

He reached for her chin and tugged gently until she was forced to look up at him. “Hey,” he said softly. He had a feeling that he

knew what was going on inside her. Because it was the exact same thing that was going on inside him.

“Is it because we’re friends?”

Her eyes flashed and she straightened a bit, a little of her fire back. “So I’m not just some bartender who you barely know?”

He liked the fire. Hell, he wanted to taste the fire.

His mouth found its way to the corner of hers and he whispered. “No, Abigail Mathews. You’re a hell of a lot more than just a bartender that I know.”

And she was.

“You are an amazing woman, and I think that you know me better than maybe I know my own self.” He thought of the endless nights he’d stayed late at The Black Dog, or the excuses he’d made to bring the endless parade of women around. He realized it was because of Abby. It had always been because of Abby.

“I’m not sure what this is or where we’re going and what it could be, but I can’t lie.” He rested his forehead on hers. “I want you. I want you in my bed.”

He was hot. On fire.

“But I don’t want to fuck our friendship up because you’re important to me.”

Her hand was slowly creeping up his body until her nails dug into his shoulders. “Then this is going to get complicated,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he managed to say when her lips grazed the skin beneath his earlobe.

Fear shot through him, and he moved so that he could see her again. “Abby, I don’t…I don’t think…” he took a step back and welcomed the cool air that ran across his skin. Tucker took a moment, eyes never leaving Abby. “I don’t know that I can be…or…” Christ he wasn’t making any kind of sense.

But Abby placed her fingers on his mouth. “Why don’t we stop analyzing and over-thinking.” She wrinkled her nose. “We always overthink you know? It’s like the fail-safe for human nature. I don’t want to overthink anymore. There’s something here, Tucker. I’m not imagining it and neither are you, and whatever this is could be amazing. Why don’t we just see where it goes?”

She glanced down at the evidence of his arousal, and the soft smile that lingered around her mouth was enough to drive him over the edge.

“I thought you weren’t going to sleep with me.”

Her head whipped up. “Excuse me?”

“That’s what you told your roommate.”