Chapter 19
Abigail
Mmmm. Warmth. I snuggled up tighter to the source of the warmth as I slowly left the land of dreams and became aware of reality.
Hard, warm body, against mine. It felt so good. I sighed as I wrapped my arm around the man in front of me and melded my naked body against his back.
“Mmm, Devon,” I murmured with a smile on my face.
Devon?
Wait. What?
Opening my eyes, I stared at the back of Devon’s head for a moment as the events of the previous night came crashing down on me. Holy shit! I’d slept with him. And enjoyed it. Not just once, but over and over again.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!
What did I do now? I had no idea. Slowly, I removed my arm from around his waist and looked over his shoulder at the silver clock on the wall. It was past seven in the morning. If I was one of the hoochies he normally brought home, I’d have already hustled myself out the door, forgetting some piece of underwear in the process.
That wasn’t the case though.
Do I wake him up? I was about to tap him on the shoulder, but stopped myself. Nope. A part of me wanted to pretend that he was my mine and slip my arm back around his waist and fall back to sleep. But I couldn’t.
I didn’t want the awkward conversation that would take place if I woke him. Or even worse then that, another round of love making… Fuck. No. Not love making. Sex. It was simply sex and physical release. Nothing more. Love had nothing to do with it.
Deciding I’d simply make like last night never happened, I took my time and slowly inched my way out of bed, hoping not to wake him. Luck was with me, and I managed to get free and, after gathering my belongings, I put on a white terry cloth robe from the back of his bedroom door and exited his bedroom.
Closing the door behind me, I was about to slip into my room when I heard a door opening from down the hallway.
“Mommy. Where were you?”
My body froze, my hand on the doorknob. “What do you mean, honey?”
I looked over at my daughter and smiled praying she didn’t see the guilt in my face and know what had happened.
“I couldn’t find you. I had a bad dream last night.” She run over to me and gave me a hug. “Where were you? You weren’t in your room,” she asked, her brown eyes looked up at me.
Looking over my shoulder at Devon’s door, I cringed. How did I get out of this one?
I just blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Devon was having bad dreams to. I stayed in his room with him, like I do with you when you have bad dreams.” Not the best excuse, but it was what came to mind in a pinch. And she was five. She wouldn’t overthink it.
“Did you stay all night?”
“What?” I turned the knob and opened the door to my room, entering, Isabella following behind me.
“I looked for you a bunch of times. I couldn’t find you.”
I tossed my clothing in the hamper, really wishing I could take a shower to wash away the evidence of the previous night since I could faintly smell his cologne on me. But Isabella wasn’t going to allow that. She was rigid with her schedule, and right now it was breakfast time.
Grabbing jeans, t-shirt and underwear from the dresser, I turned to Isabella and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Wait here, and once I’m changed I’ll make you breakfast. How’s that?”
Isabella nodded and I breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully that would be the end of that conversation.
~*~ TT ~*~
Bacon. Oh sweet, maple flavored bacon. It made everything okay.
I began preparing breakfast for myself and Isabella, but something told me Devon would be downstairs before we were finished up, so I made sure to put on extra. He didn’t care for anything fancy, preferring the normal bacon and scrambled eggs. He had a cook, but the cook was on call and only came a few days a week. Devon figured that since he usually either worked late or had business dinners, there wasn’t much point in having someone on staff full-time, which made perfect sense.
The man was like a bloodhound. Just as the bacon was ready to serve, Devon stuck his head into the kitchen. “Something smells delicious.” He entered the kitchen and sit in his spot at the table. “What all did you make for breakfast, Abby?”
“Bacon, eggs and hash browns.”
“My favorite.”
“I know.”
As I served, he kept things light, as if nothing ever happened between us. One thing was peculiar though; he was wearing a suit. It was Saturday. He usually didn’t go into the office on Saturday or Sunday. That wasn’t to say he didn’t work – I’d never met anyone with such a strong work ethic – but for the past few weeks, he’d worked from home or taken off to attend some semi-formal business meet-up.
Maybe now that he’d gotten what he’d wanted from me, he didn’t feel the need to make an effort anymore. That thought hurt; I knew I shouldn’t feel that way and hated that it did. The agreement was love, not sex, so if he assumed he’d won, I had sorry news for him, he hadn’t.
“That was really good,” he stated finishing up the last bite.
“It’s hard to mess up breakfast.”
“It’s easier than you think. I’ve had some disgustingly prepared food for breakfast in the past, especially when I was growing up. We ate what we could get, quality wasn’t a priority.”
“What do you mean?” He hadn’t spoken much of his childhood.
“We just didn’t have much money growing up. There was a time when we lived off hot dogs. We didn’t have money for electricity for a short bit and our power had been disconnected. We made due using a fondue set so we would fondue our hot dogs.”
“That’s so sad.”
“It’s part of my history.”
“What’s a fondo?” Isabella asked.
“Fondue,” I corrected.
“Fondue,” she repeated, her pronunciation still a little off, but it was a good enough improvement that I didn’t correct her a second time.
“It’s a little kettle that you heat up and dip foods into,” I explained.
She frowned. I could tell she wasn’t quite clear on what I was talking about, but didn’t press it.
“Well, I have to head into the office,” he stated, grabbing his plate and standing.
“It’s Saturday.” I protested, with a little more need in my voice than intended.
“I know.” He rinsed off his plate and placed it inside the dishwasher. “But there’s a huge deal in the works and I have a meeting with a couple people on my legal team to ensure we’re ready to go. I then have an off-schedule meeting. I shouldn’t be too late though. Perhaps 2pm.”
“Okay.” Taking my empty plate, I rinsed it off. Turning to put it into the dishwasher Devon had kept open, I inhaled sharply realizing he’d taken a step forward, so he was right before me.
“By the way, you left something in my room last night.” He whispered, grinning as his hand slipped into the back pocket of my jeans.
“What are -”
I didn’t have a chance to question him further. His hand exited my pocket, but not before giving my ass a gentle squeeze and depositing something within. He didn’t say another word, just left. My hand slipped into my pocket and my heart stopped beating for a moment – my panties!
Oh shit, I was one of those girls that I’d bitched him out over the first day we’d met. And he was mocking me with it! Son-of-a…
I was about to call out to him, but stopped myself. There was no point, especially with Isabella in the same room listening to our exchange with interest. We’d deal with it later.