Page 378 of Summer Heat
And his ego was celebrating it.
Abby’s chin lifted stubbornly. “What do you mean, why? Easy access, of course,” she answered, straight-faced. “You know what they say…better felt than seen.”
His imagination went nuts.
Picturing Abby wearing the microscopic scrap of lace he saw earlier for easy access in private unhinged him, propelled him to shackle her wrists above her head with one hand and begin tickling her ribs with the other. “Another foul.”
“Stop!” she screeched, dissolving into a breathless puddle of mirth. “Okay, I admit it! These were all dirty, dirty fouls on my part; you should definitely take a free throw shot.”
He paused, wondering where she was going with this.
She pointed to the trashcan. “There’s the basket. My new panties can be the ball…since yours are clearly in a twist.”
Incredulous, he dialed up the tickle torture to merciless.
Her squealing ‘I-take-it-backs’ hit an ultrasonic range as she wriggled and squirmed and bucked until soon, he was fairly certain he was suffering more than she was.
Breathing hard, he released her wrists and rolled onto his back beside her. “You’re planning to drive me completely crazy these next few weeks, aren’t you?”
Dangling half off the bed, limbs all akimbo, she heaved between breaths, “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
With a groaning chuckle, he dragged her up to steal a long, hard kiss while she was too tickle-drunk to object. And the smile he couldn’t seem to contain around her snuck up on him once again.
Mostly because she’d sobered up enough to proclaim weakly, “Foul…and a really mean one at that.”
For the first time in his life, two weeks of imposed abstinence didn’t seem all that bad.
CHAPTER NINE
IT WAS WORSE THAN BAD.
It was impossible. Six days of pure, unmitigated, using-up-all-the-cold-water agony. And there were still eight days ahead to face.
Survival was looking highly unlikely.
He had to admit though that the last six days had been pretty great in their own right.
Fun.
Given the constraints of her busy writing schedule, Connor made sure to limit himself to only one short, concentrated flirt session with Abby a day, either by phone or a flurry of text message bantering.
And every night, she’d greet him at home with a radiant smile, and depending on how steamy their flirting had been that day, a damn cute blush, too.
It was addictive.
After seeing her warming his home her first night there, he’d found it impossible to stay away each following night as well. Sure, he still had his occasional evening meetings and late office work but he always made sure to be ‘home by dinner.’
What a concept.
Growing up, his father had never felt a need to do it more than once, maybe twice a week. Even though he’d had a wife and two sons waiting at home for him. As a kid, Connor had missed him, from middle school on, not so much. Now as an adult with someone to actually come home to for once—regardless how temporary it was—he felt renewed disappointment in his father. Again.
Or rather, still.
“I cooked us up some Greek food tonight,” called out a cheerful voice from the kitchen, breaking into his thoughts, luring him over to where all the sumptuous smells were originating.
The sight of Abby bent over pulling something out from the oven was the best thing he’d set his eyes on all day...at least until she plopped the baking tin on the stove and gifted him with her most dazzling, room-brightening smile yet.
Then that officially became the greatest thing he’d seen all day.
