Tucker (The Family Simon 1)

God he wanted her so much that it hurt, but something twisted inside him. Guilt? Fear? Hell, he didn’t know what it was. The only thing that he did know was that this girl meant a lot to him. And it wasn’t as if the women he’d been with had meant nothing. He wasn’t that guy…that guy who didn’t give a shit. But those women were never going to figure into his life permanently, and they’d known that.

Sure they might have hoped, but he’d been upfront. He’d been honest. He’d given and taken and it had been returned in kind.

But this here…this night that was going to happen, it meant a lot more than just sex, and that was new territory for him. Abby wasn’t only a beautiful, smart, funny lady—she was his friend. He didn’t want to hurt her, because there were boundaries…boundaries he couldn’t cross.

Not yet. Maybe never.

“Abby.” He threaded his hand into that shiny, gorgeous hair and bent close. He needed to make sure that she knew what the score was. “Are you sure that this is what you want? You and me? Doing…”

“Sex?”

Was that a smile?

He was already hot. Already horny as fuck. Already so close to the edge and that small hint of a smile was gonna send him over.

“Tucker,” she breathed. “I want this.”

His control was slipping. Christ, was it slipping. But he wouldn’t be the guy he was if he didn’t at least try once more to make her see. If he didn’t try to make Abby understand.

“But, this…whatever this is between us…I’ve told you things, Abby. Hell, you know more about what’s going on in my head these days than my brothers do. I’m no good for someone like you and I…”

Fuck. Was he even making sense?

“You’re the kind of woman who… you deserve a lot and…”

Goddamn, but he was screwing this up. He released her and stepped back not even sure what the hell he was trying to say.

“Will you stop talking, Tucker?” she said, reaching behind her neck.

“I just,” he continued, running his fingers through his already mussed up hair, though now his eyes were riveted to the creamy skin on display as Abby slowly slid her dress down her body, over her hips until it was a mess of fabric at her feet.

“You’re not like the other women I’ve been with.” Jesus, she was standing in front of him in black panties and a matching bra. And holy hell, was that a tattoo peeking out the top of her skimpy undies?

His mouth was dry. He was pretty much done.

“I know,” she whispered taking a step toward him. She was so close now that her subtle, clean, fresh scent wafted up his nose and that set off a whole bunch of shit inside him.

Her hands were between her breasts…breasts that looked like they were a little more than a handful. Breasts that were soft-looking, so goddamn feminine. They were fucking perfect.

She toyed with the clasp and he heard her breathing change. “Stop being a choirboy, Tucker. It doesn’t suit you.”

God, she was undoing her bra, and he was standing in front of her like an idiot. Christ, he probably had drool running from his fucking mouth.

Tucker had maybe one second where he could have stepped back and put the brakes on. One second to just make sure that he wasn’t getting in too deep with a woman he’d only end up hurting. A woman he cared about.

But then the bra was on the floor, and she whispered, “touch me.”

Just like that, any resolve in him melted away. Touch her? Wicked thoughts filled his head. Wicked. Decadent. X-rated, porn star thoughts.

Tucker leaned forward, breath hot as it slid across her skin. He inhaled her scent, there beneath her ear, and smiled when he felt her shudder.

“I’m going to do a lot more than touch you, Abby.”

Was that a groan?

“I’m going to kiss.” He swiped his mouth across her ear lobe. “And lick.” Then slid his tongue down her neck.

That was definitely a groan.