Tucker (The Family Simon 1)

God, the man could put more meaning into one word than anyone else she knew.

“Hey, yourself.”

An old Maroon 5 song was playing, the sounds drifting clearly from the open patio doors. It was a slow song. A sensual song. A song of heartbreak, need and seduction.

“I want to dance with you,” Tucker said.

He reached forward and enfolded her in his arms, moving her back toward the shadows where they could still hear the music.

It was surreal. Moving with him there. Having him hold her so close that she could feel every single breath that he took, and hear every single heartbeat.

He was warm and her fingers traced the hard contours of his chest, before she rested her cheek against him, closed her eyes, and let him move them both. There were no words. There was nothing but the music and their bodies. Nothing but the electricity that held them together, the fragrant desire in the air, and the need to get so close to him that it ached.

She will be loved.

The song encircled her. The lyrics haunted her. And the man who held her had claimed her without even trying.

Abby wasn’t sure how long they moved slowly out there in the darkness, but when Tucker finally pulled away and she glanced up at him, she knew he felt exactly the same. His breaths fell in short, rough spurts and he ran his hands through his hair, rolling his shoulders—though his eyes never left hers.

Her mouth went dry at the look on his face, and she had no idea how she even remained standing.

Several long seconds passed, and then he reached for her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His warm hand lingered there, sending another lightening bolt straight down her body. She was hot and cold—a bundle of nerves.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tucker said.

Still afraid to speak because she was pretty damn sure her vocal chords weren’t working, Abby managed a nod.

Tucker grabbed her hand and there was no turning back.

Chapter Thirteen

The gods must have been smiling on Tucker, because he managed to get Abby out to the parking lot without running into his mother, Aunt Virginia, Beau, Cooper, or Betty Jo, for that matter. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he’d run into any of them, but he had a good idea it wouldn’t be pretty.

He was that far gone.

He’d nodded to one of the waiting drivers, and he and Abby had been on their way before anyone even knew they were missing from the reception.

Now they were back in their hotel room.

Now he had her alone and… Jesus, the things he wanted to do to her. It took every ounce of self-control that he had not to push her up against the wall and bury himself inside her. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this rabid…like he was an animal losing control.

This overwhelming need to connect with Abby had snuck up on him, but now that it had him basically by the balls, he needed to keep his shit together. He had to proceed with caution. This was Abby, for Christ sake. He couldn’t fuck this up.

Tucker tore off his tie and tossed it onto the sofa in the seating area. “Drink?” he asked casually, though inside a war raged. If she licked her bottom lip one more time he was going to go all caveman on her and carry her over to the bed. Or—he glanced at the wall to his right—he’d have her naked in less than five seconds.

“No,” she replied quickly. There went that bottom lip again.

“Can I get you any—“

“No.” Abby shook her head, those brown eyes glistening in the low light. Slowly she walked toward him, moving gracefully like a cat until she stopped a few inches away.

Suddenly on alert, Tucker couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Something had just changed, and he wasn’t even sure what it was, but this Abby was fierce. Sexy as hell.

And not to be messed with.

“I don’t want a drink. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to make small talk or anything else for that matter.” She took a moment, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

“I want you.” It was a whisper, but man, it hit him hard and he clenched his hands into fists.