The Call Page 9

  His tongue runs over my bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth. “What is it with you and aggression? Your reaction to it is infuriatingly compelling.” His lips connect with mine. When I get a little weak in the knees, he lifts me to his waist. “Upstairs?”

  “Yes.” He takes them two at a time, carrying me to our bed and lying me on it. “Mm. I don’t want slow, Abraham. I’ll let you know if I start to feel off. Just please, don’t treat me like I’m broken.” He pauses, hovering over my body, and stares into my eyes. There’s worry, temptation, lust, and love swirling in his hooded eyes. “Please. I need a little bit of ‘my Adonis’ today.”

  His ornery half smile turns up his mouth. “I’ll just skip over that split personality implication. Take your clothes off, Reagan.”

  I do. Once I’m fully naked, he stands next to the bed. “Now mine.” Don’t mind if I do. It’s like unwrapping the ultimate, tattooed present. When I pull his boxers down, my body follows them to the floor. I look at him through my lashes as I stand back up. “On the bed.”

  Once I’m sitting up in the middle of the bed, he starts to crawl over me, forcing me to lie down. “Abraham.” He brings his lips to mine.

  His fingers glide through my folds. “You’re so wet.” He reaches down, grabs his erection, and slides it back and forth, soaking it in my arousal. He does it over and over again. Never actually entering me, he just slides it up and down. “You’re fidgeting, sweet girl. Do you need that sweet relief?”

  “Yes. Fuck yes. Abraham, I need you inside of me. Right now. Please.” He lets go of himself once he’s in position, grabs my wrists, raises them above my head, and then thrusts deep inside of me.

  My back arches and I cry out. His grip on my wrists tightens. When my back levels out enough, he dips his head into the crook of my neck. “Ah, fuck.” His teeth clamp down on my skin. I’m fighting the hold he has on my wrists. I need to touch him.

  “No.” He says against my collarbone.

  “Abraham.”

  He gives a breathy laugh. “Shhh, you’ll be okay.” He transfers my wrists to one hand and squeezes my hip bone with the other.

  “Ah.” I rip my hands from his hold, latch onto his shoulder blades, and drag my nails down a bit, making him growl. My hands transfer to his hair and pull until his lips meet mine. “Oh God, Abraham.”

  He thrusts harder. He stops thrusting, grabs both of my hips, and walks on his knees until I’m only touching the bed with my shoulder blades. “Put your feet flat on my chest.” I do and he starts rocketing into me again, holding me up by my hips. He groans in satisfaction. “If I ever get used to this feeling, shoot me.”

  I’m close, and by the way he’s gripping my hips, he is too. I straighten out my legs, cross my ankles, and lean them on his shoulder. My name fills every room of the house as he climaxes. His hand smacks the side of my ass and I’m thrown from the cliff, free falling in all that is Abraham and my ‘Adonis of the stars’.

  He untangles my legs and puts them on either side of him before lying on my chest. Out of breath and sweating, he says, “I love you, Reagan. With all of me.”

  “And I you, Abraham.” We continue to lie there catching our breath while I stroke his hair.

  »»•««

  About an hour later, there’s a ruckus downstairs. We fell asleep apparently. “Abraham. Abraham. Wake up.” He stirs and lifts his head, just staring at me.

  “What, what’s wrong?”

  Our dogs come running into the bedroom followed by Princess. “Shit. Abraham, get off of me. Clothes. Devon’s here.” He springs into motion, running toward the closet and shutting our bedroom door on his way.

  “Damn, woman. You need to stop sexing me into a coma.” His face gets a little morbid. “That was a shitty choice of words. Sorry.”

  I laugh while getting up and walking to him. “It's not a big deal, stud. You were awake when I woke up. Besides, we’re both awake and home now. Let’s get dressed to go.”

  Devon knocks on the door. “Seriously? Pretty sure the doctor said at least a week. You guys are ridiculous. Put some clothes on and let’s go.”

  “You’ll live, bro.” Abraham is smiling and pulling a T-shirt over his head. When he gets his pants up and zipped, he goes to the dresser to grab some socks. “You need a pair?”

  “Yeah, ankle socks please. Going with the short Converse today.”

  He tosses me some. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” He walks over and kisses me.

  Once we’re loaded in Devon’s truck with him and Sara, we head out of the neighborhood with Mickey and Kate on our six. “So where are we going?”

  “We were thinking New Orleans Food and Spirits.” Devon smiles at me through the mirror.

  “Have I told you how much I love you, Dev?”

  “Never gets old to hear.” We laugh and have idle chitchat the entire way there, after Damon and Sam fall in line behind Mickey.

  When we pull into the lot, I notice a very familiar truck. “Guys, is that Aunt Kathy’s truck?”

  Damon looks at it. “Looks like hers. Even has the ‘cowboy up’ sticker. I thought she went home yesterday?”

  When we go in, Aunt Kathy and Abraham’s Uncle Peter are sitting in a booth, holding hands across the table while eating. Mickey laughs loud enough that they both turn and look at us. Peter’s spoon stops halfway to his mouth, and Aunt Kathy lies her head back on the chair.

  “Don’t you kids have anything better to do than to follow us around?”

  “Um, believe it or not, we had no idea you guys were even here. We thought you left yesterday, Aunt Kathy. What gives?”

  She sits up and looks to Devon. “Well, I decided to stay another day. Neighbor’s daughter is having fun taking care of the horses and cattle. It was spur of the moment. Well? Are you just going to stand there, or are you kids going to sit down?”

  Abraham puts his arm around my waist. “We’ll give you two some privacy, there’s a big table in the back that we’ll occupy. No need to intrude on your date.”

  She smiles at him. “I think I like you even more now, kiddo.”

  We head to our usual table and order our usual meals. Once everyone is done eating and is just sipping the last of our drinks, the waitress comes over with the bill and a Crescent City Pilsner. She hands it to me. “From the gentleman at the bar.”

  I look at the bar and see no one. “Who?”

  She looks over. “Huh, he must have left.”

  I look at Abraham and hand the beer back to her. “No thanks. We’re headed out.”

  She nods and walks away. “That was weird.”

  Kate pipes up, “I can’t take you anywhere,” She laughs. “Constantly attracting strange men’s attention.”

  “Ha, ha. Come on preggers. Let’s head out.” Uncle Peter and Aunt Kathy left about fifteen minutes ago, after saying goodbye.

  As we start to load into the vehicles, the bartender comes rushing out. “Miss? The man who bought you a beer, asked me to give you this when you left.”

  She hands me a note. When I open it I about vomit. A picture of me covered in blood, lying in the middle of the street in Devon’s crying arms, falls to the ground. The paper reads:

  You forced my hand, Reagan.

  This was only the beginning. I’ve shown what I’m capable of. He’s shown that he can’t protect you. But I can, I’ll keep you safe. Walk away.

  You don’t deserve her. She is mine. I will kill her before I let you win. And you won’t even see it coming, much less be able to stop it. It will be all your fault. I will have her.

  Chapter Seven

  Abraham

  When we get home from the restaurant, she heads straight to the freezer and grabs what’s left of the B&J. “Go away with me.”

  She stops and looks at me skeptically, with a spoon hanging from her mouth. “What?”

  “Let’s take a trip. Let’s leave the country for a few days. Leave all of this here.”

  “Abraham, it doesn’t matter
how far we go. The problems will be here when we get home, all the same. And who’s to say that the problems won’t follow us?”

  Walking across the house to her, I put my hands on her hips. “I don’t care, I just want to go away with you. Just the two of us. No interruptions.” I push my groin into hers and wiggle my hips a little. “Come dirty dance with me in Rio. Make out with me on the top of the Eiffel Tower. Let me eat fresh grapes, from the vineyards in Italy, out of your bellybutton. Come have sex with me in one of the floating huts of Tahiti. Come chase kangaroos with me in Australia. Just go somewhere with me. Anywhere you want. You name it and we’ll leave tomorrow.”

  “All right, let’s fly to Tahiti Friday morning.” Kissing her lips, I pick her up and head to our bedroom.

  “I can hardly wait to see you in a white sand setting.” She grins and I toss her onto the bed. I’m super fucking happy we’re both pretty much healed. I’m all for slow and meticulous, but fuck I missed ‘rough Reagan’.

  »»•««

  I’m dancing with Reagan in Rio. “Abraham?”

  Reagan becomes engulfed with light and everything around us disappears. “Reagan?”

  She smiles and I return it. She places a hand in the middle of my chest. “You’ll keep me safe. If you watch and look past it. You’ll keep me safe and be able to stop it.”

  “Stop what, sweet girl?” Her hands move to her abdomen, and my eyes follow. She’s wearing the sundress again. Blood starts to soak it and runs through the fingers she’s pressing against it.

  “Reagan!” She starts to collapse. I catch her and slowly lower us both to the floor. “Reagan, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  I cradle her head on my arm. Her long hair, once brown, has blood in it covering my arm as it cascades over it. “Abraham? Abraham!” My body starts to shake back and forth.

  “Reagan?”

  Her eyes turn to mine. “I love you, Abraham.”

  “Reagan!”

  »»•««

  “Abraham! Wake up!” I shoot straight up in the bed. Reagan is sitting on her knees, looking at me with sad, worried eyes. “What were you dreaming about?”

  “I don’t know…the harder I think about it, the faster it fades. It feels familiar though.”

  “You were calling out ‘angel’ and ‘how do I help.’ ”

  Confusion takes over my mind and face. “I don’t know. Weird. What time is it?” I wipe my eyes and see that the sun is shining into the room.

  “Eight o’clock. I say we go downstairs and book some airline tickets to Tahiti and dig out our passports. What do you think?”

  The reminder has me smiling from ear to ear. Her eyes light up. She turns her head a little and looks briefly to the door. “You won’t make it.”

  Her smile gets bigger. “You always say that.” She leaps off the bed and is nothing but a blur as I chase her down the hall.

  When she leaps to jump over the stairs, I snatch her out of the air. “And I’m always right.” She’s giggling and clinging to my arm as I walk us both down the stairs. “Breakfast?” I set her down next to the kitchen island.

  “Mm chocolate covered bacon sounds delicious.”

  My nose scrunches at the thought. “Are you serious?”

  “Chyah. I’m an adult and I’ll eat what I want, whenever I please. You got a beef, Stone?” She puts on her best ‘fighting’ face and mock lunges at me.

  My mouth hangs open. “Miss ballsy, this morning, are we?”

  She kisses my lips and then heads toward the fridge. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

  Flashes of a bright woman, in a white dress, run past my eyes…or is it red? When I shake my head and refocus, I see a sight I want burned into my brain forever.

  Reagan is in one of my pale blue dress shirts. It’s wrinkled from her sleeping in it. She has on a pair of lace panties just a shade darker than the shirt. Her hair is in that cinnabun thing at the top of her head. One hand is holding the refrigerator door open, the other is keeping her balance on the freezer, and her leg is bent, scratching the back of her calf with the top of her foot.

  She pokes her head around the door and looks at me. “Don’t start growling at me. We’ve got food to eat, tickets to buy, and then some running around to do. We also have a lunch date.”

  My brow furrows. “We do? When I signed up for medical leave, I was promised bed rest and extra care with minimal paperwork in between. Not errands and secret lunch dates.”

  “You sir, are not allowed to complain.”

  “Oh?”

  “You heard me. You’ll live. And, if you’re good, I’ll make it worth your while when we return home this evening.”

  “Promises, promises.” She laughs and pulls out a carton of eggs. “I thought you wanted chocolate dipped bacon for breakfast?”

  “I’m a very indecisive woman, Stone. Deal with it.” I love it when she’s full of piss and vinegar.

  “You make a mean omelet, woman.” She smiles, grabs our plates, and heads for the sink. “I love that ass.”

  “It’s magnificent. I know.”

  “So cocky.”

  She laughs and throws the dishtowel at my face. “Not cocky, confident. Now, get that ass up, and go get ready to go out.”

  “So pushy.” I smile and give her a kiss before she shoos me upstairs.

  »»•««

  We pull into the tattoo shop’s parking lot and head inside. “S’up, wife? You comin’ back to work early?”

  “No ma’am, just picking up my sketchbook. I have an idea for another tattoo. I’m going to give drawing a go.”

  What? I smile at her and she blushes. Damon comes walking out of his station, taking off a pair of black gloves. “Hey, sis. What up, Abraham? You guys come for lunch?”

  Reagan shakes her head. “Nope. Just grabbing my sketchbook. How’s the arm?”

  He lifts the sleeve of his shirt and strokes his thumb over an almost-healed, puckered, circle on his shoulder. “It’s getting there. Doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m back to fully tattooing. How’s…well, how’s your everything?”

  She laughs. “I’m good. Almost one hundred percent back to normal. Wanna see my pretty new Jeep?”

  “You got another Jeep? Why wouldn’t you get something different?”

  “Hey, don’t knock the Jeep. Come look. Mickey, come see my new hotness. Kate?”

  “On your six, wife.”

  Grabbing her sketchbook, Mickey and I bring up the rear, just chuckling at how proud she is of her leather, heated, seats and her sunroof. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Yes, sweet girl, she’s gorgeous. Can we go eat lunch now? I’m starving.” She gives Kate a hug, awkwardly. She’s really starting to show. It’s almost like it happened overnight, even though they both say that Kate is really skinny for a pregnant chick. We all think the baby is going to have her tiny frame. We say goodbye and head out.

  “So, are you going to tell me who we are meeting for lunch?”

  She shakes her head back and forth. “Nope.”

  “Will you at least tell me where we’re going?”

  “IHOP.” She starts laughing.

  “What’s so funny about IHOP?”

  “You’ll see when we get there.” I can’t say that I’m fond of surprises. This is no exception.

  When we step through the doors, I spot our guest and I immediately realize what was so funny about IHOP. My mother sits at a booth, highly overdressed, looking completely out of place and like she’s not quite sure what to do with herself.

  “You invited my mother to lunch?” I whisper/yell into her ear.

  She leans close to me as we head in my mother’s direction. “She called me yesterday morning and asked if she could apologize in person for her behavior. I suggested lunch today, with you and I both. Suck it up, Abraham. Victoria, I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long?”

  Mom stands, and to my utter shock, wraps Reagan into a hug. “Not long at all. Did you get your new car squared
away, dear?” Seriously? What. The. Fuck?

  My mother is staring at me oddly. Reagan diverts her attention. “I did. Are you ready to order?”

  Mother looks over at the menu next to her. She does a good job at hiding her discomfort, sort of. “I think I’ll just have eggs, bacon, and toast on wheat. Is that good here?”

  Reagan smiles. “It is. Waiter?”

  The waiter walks over. I order for my mother and order Reagan and myself both a French dip. My mother looks uncomfortable. She opens her mouth several times before she starts to actually talk. “Reagan, dear, I want to apologize. Not just for the things I said to you and about you, but also for not seeing just how rotten Sasha really is. I’m so sorry, to you both, for the way I’ve acted.

  “I know that I can’t change overnight, and I accept that. However, I would like to be given the chance to change. If you’ll let me work on myself and repair the relationship I’ve destroyed…all I’m asking for is the chance. A chance to be a part of your world. One that you don’t avoid.”

  Wow. I look at Reagan’s face. She’s looking at my mother and I can tell she’s torn. She looks to me. The look she gives me tells me that I’m not to argue or I’ll catch hell for it. I know what her answer is. “You’re his mother. I fully support letting you be a part of our lives, if you’re going to be pleasant to be around that is.

  “My parents died when I was young, so I never really got to know what having a mom and dad was like growing up. But I do know that if Abraham and I ever get married and have kids, I’d want their grandparents to be a part of their lives.”

  My mother is watching the smile spread across my face while I stare at Reagan. She does think about marriage and children. My heart is bursting at the seams. Reagan looks at me and when she catches my smile, her half smile appears on her face. Leaning down, I connect my lips to hers. The waitress appears with our food.

  My mother keeps looking at me funny. Curiosity gets the better of me. “Mother, what has your rapt attention on me?”

  Color fills her face. I’ve never, in my entire life, seen this side of my mother. “I just…forgive me. I was unaware that you had any tattoos. Much less that your arms are covered in them.”