Gods & Monsters - Page 49

Abel was trapped back there.

Because of me. He wouldn’t leave because that town was my home. I’m so glad we’re out of there. So glad that we’re done with that place.

Things are working out already. Ethan’s a photographer too, and he says that he’s going to bring Abel to his studio and try to hook him up with a job. Isn’t that wonderful?

Abel’s going to be a photographer and I’m going to look for a job of my own and try to write in my free time. Isn’t that what I wanted to do? I’ve always wanted to be a writer and now I’m in the most artsy city in the world. Imagine all the stories New York has. Imagine all the people I can meet and write about.

I twist the ring on my finger, and it catches Abel’s attention. Ethan’s still saying something but Abel’s watching me. Smiling, I mouth I love you, and he gives me his signature reply: a smirk.

Yup, New York is going to be the best adventure of our lives.

That boy will be your downfall.

I jerk awake at my dad’s voice ringing in my ears. For a second, I feel empty, bereft, like I’ve been sleeping with sadness wrapped around my body instead of a blanket.

But then everything rushes back. The rain, the running, Abel’s proposal, the drive, the wind in my hair, the highway. New York.

We’re safe. We’re in New York. And I’m sleeping next to the boy I love.

His arm is thrown over my waist, almost flattening me to the bed. Oh wait, we only have a mattress. His bronzed fingers are super close to my breasts. Actually, his thumb is touching my nipple that now stands to attention. My back is flush with his chest – naked chest – and his big thigh is wedged between my legs.

I’m sweating with my own personal heater at my spine. Well, what else can you expect when you sleep with the sun? The window right above us doesn’t have curtains or bars like my old window, so I can see pieces of the sky. It’s pink and purple with dawn a few minutes away.

Biting my lip, I wiggle my butt and feel his dick jerk. Abel hums but doesn’t wake up. He must be dead tired. After an early dinner last night, we both crashed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and I guess he did too. The events of the last forty-eight hours had sucked us dry.

Slowly, I turn around in his arms and face him. I watch him with wonder. So, this is what Abel looks like first thing in the morning: his messy hair sticking up; that silver chain, flung to the side, resting on his pillow; the stubble; his pink lips slightly parted. The only unusual occurrence is the colored, misshapen bruises.

We were just playing with each other. Abel was only taking photos and I was willing. He wasn’t hurting anyone. He’s been evasive but I think they were rough with him in the jail. I think the only reason they kept him in there was to scare him away. To show that they were more powerful than him, than us.

I touch his bruises, gingerly, carefully, trying to not add any additional pain. His stubble is scratchy against my skin, ticklish but with a sharp edge. My fingers travel down to his hard jaw, the line of his throat, over the bump of his Adam’s apple.

“You’re beautiful.”

My eyes whip up at the sound of his sleepy whisper. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.”

“If you weren’t trying to wake me then you shouldn’t have touched me.”

I laugh softly. “What, are you my own sleeping prince now? I touch you and you wake from slumber?”

I don’t know how he does it but even first thing in the morning with the cobwebs of sleep hanging over us, he throws me his perfect typical smirk. “I think you’re forgetting the story, Pixie.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” He stretches, all muscular and sexy-like, and props his head on his hand, looking down at me with a wicked glint in his eyes. “You gotta kiss the prince to wake him up.”

I shake my head, smiling and slide closer to him, and kiss his chin. “Here. Are you fully awake now?”

“Not the kind of kiss I had in mind. Not in the area I had in mind either. Maybe try going lower. A lot lower.”

He nudges my stomach with his dick, which feels like the hardest thing ever. Hardest and biggest thing I’ve ever felt. “You’re such a…”

Abel laughs, grabbing my hands and turning me on my back. He finds a home in between my thighs, making me realize I’m only wearing my thin nightshirt with sunflowers on it, and he’s only wearing a pair of black boxers.

Tags: Saffron A. Kent Romance
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