She was effervescent.

She was impetuous.

She was amazing, unbridled, and tempestuous. She was unrestrained and brilliant, and fucking insatiable.

She met me at the door wearing one of my t-shirts. I could see the lines of her underwear underneath. She often wore little bras that weren’t really bras. A scrap of fabric so flimsy I could rip it off with a tug of my little finger. Fuck, I loved that tiny scarp of fabric. Knickers that matched. Yep. On the floor in a heap.

I watched her as the hit of her orgasm rendered her unable to do the simplest of tasks, including blinking or even lifting the corner of her mouth into a smile. Her mouth was frozen in an O shape that made me want to press my cock into it. Finally, that O curved into the smile that I’d grown to really…love? Yes. Shit and holy fuck. Love.

I hovered above her, my dick still pulsing from the orgasm that had just torn me to shreds. But one look in those mischievous eyes and I was ready to go again.

She was up to something. I could see it written across her face. She couldn’t hide anything from me. Those bright green eyes were unfiltered communicators. They spoke, they told, they loved. I wanted to know what caused the lip bite and the contagious giggles. I wanted to know what made her vulnerable. Cocky Abi had only been vulnerable beneath me, and I wanted that Abi with everything I had.

‘I can see your clit-dimple.’

‘Sorry?’ she laughed.

I ran my finger across her mouth and into the dip at the corner of her smile. ‘You get this sexy dimple. I think it’s connected to your clit in some way. I swear it swells alongside it.’

‘Before, during or after?’ she asked, still in that groggy blur.

‘Before, it’s subtle, barely there. During, it gets bigger. And after, it leaves a crease. A tiny line.’ I kissed it.

I felt like I was on the edge of something big. Something so huge that if she wasn’t holding my hand through all of it, I would be scared to jump. But she was gripping my hand. She was gripping me, every fucking part. I had a feeling she would always be holding on. Whatever happened, she’d still be there, like an invisible force or line tying us together. I felt safe. I felt fucking invincible.

‘I don’t know what to use next. Fingers would be a good start, tongue even better. I want to taste you,’ I breathed into her ear on a moan, thrusting my hips and connecting my cock with her sensitive clit. She gasped, she moaned, thrashing her hips in time with mine.

‘Is that what I do to you?’

‘You know what you fucking do to me,’ I said, putting my hands under her knees and dragging her forward, her pussy glistening and wet above my pubic bone. ‘Wrap your legs around me.’ And, fuck, she did.

This was turning into more than sex. We were definitely sizing up love. The pounding in my chest and the haze in my brain were enough physical clues that love was creeping in. But this was in the next stratosphere. This was fucking lovelust.

‘You have the skills, Dawson. You’re top of the regiment of cockateers. You’re making my clit swell with pride.’

I laughed as I lifted her up, my hands clasping her hips. Then in one quick movement, I thrust into her. ‘Fucking fuck, you’re good. You’re so fucking good,’ she cried as I pulled her up around my waist, angling my cock to hit the spots I was getting to know so well. She was so responsive, nothing was off limits and I yearned and longed for her.

When she wasn’t in my bed, she was in my mind, occupying it with no bounds.

Fuck. Her skin and her smile and those fluttery fingers at the base of my cock as I thrust myself into her. I wanted to stay inside her feeling every pulse of her pussy, every throb, every jerk, every exquisite spasm.

The dimple appeared. Yes. Fuck. Yes.

‘I want to know you like no one else ever has. I want to know everything about you.’ I gasped and grunted the words as she let her arms drop around her head.

‘You already do.’

Her breasts were shaking with each thrust and she had never looked more beautiful lying underneath me, letting me take charge, trusting that I knew exactly how to make her fly. ‘I want you to be mine. Say you’re mine.’

‘I’m yours. Don’t you know that? I’m ruined for other men,’ she laughed.

I wanted to chain her to my bed. I’d always had a preference for taking the lead during sex, but with Abi, I wanted to possess her, keep her and mark her as mine.

‘You don’t need other men. You’re mine.’

I felt her pussy tighten around my cock on my words. She wanted that too. She came with a shout, and I followed two seconds later.

I lifted her down gently, kissing the bare skin I’d craved so intensely. Her stomach was soft and inviting, her hips dipped as she lay, her nipples still tight after her orgasm.

‘You look beautiful. I think you may have been made for me, you fucking whirlwind.’

She laughed and turned to her side, watching me as I lay down beside her. ‘You wouldn’t want me any other way, Dawson.’

She was so right.

A loud knock broke our physical connection. Abi sprang up off the bed and grabbed her dressing gown. ‘She’s picked the worst timing ever.’ The knocking got louder and more frantic. After dressing quickly, throwing on my t-shirt and jeans, I followed Abi through to the kitchen where she was with a woman who had various bags hanging off her arms like she was carrying her life around wrapped in plastic.

Abi looked up and opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it again when the woman started laughing. ‘Oh no, Abi. Oh, I’m so sorry. You were otherwise engaged,’ she slurred.

‘This is my mum. Keep your distance; she likes the younger man.’

‘Oh my God! She’s got such a baggy mouth!’ her mum shrieked. She pushed Abi by her shoulder before a hacking smokers cough took over her ability to breathe. I smiled briefly before catching Abi’s apologetic stare.

‘I’ll get you a drink. Sit down.’ Abi pulled out a stool from the kitchen table and eased her mum onto it before filling a glass with water.

‘Well, hello, mister tall-dark-and-handsome,’ she said, lifting her head. ‘Let me get a closer look.’ She attempted to stand but promptly fell back down onto the stool. ‘Sit with me, gorgeous.’

I pulled up a stool and sat next to her. At the same time, she took a miniature bottle of vodka out of her bag. Abi reached for it but as she pulled it away from her mum’s grip, it spilled across the table. I heard Abi swear under her breath as she turned towards the sink to tip the rest of the bottle down the plughole.

‘You’re drunk and you’re carrying your belongings around in five plastic bags. What’s happened?’ Abi asked, her back still turned.

‘I've had a few but I'm fine. This is my home too, Abi. I can sleep in my own bedroom. You don’t need to get all hoity toity about it. When was the last time you got a bit tipsy?’

‘You aren’t tipsy. You’re passed tipsy.’

‘I won't disturb you. I’ll have another drink and I’ll be out like a light,’ she said, turning to me at the same time as reaching for another miniature. ‘Make her scream to your heart’s desire. I won't hear a thing.’

‘What’s happened to Eric with the man bun?’ Abi asked. I couldn’t help but smile.

‘We split up. No big deal,’ she said before turning her attention back to me, scaring me shitless. ‘You know, there’s a lot to be said for the younger man. They seem to have this inbuilt need to satisfy, like they have to prove their worth.’

‘Jesus wept. So you have nowhere to go but here?’ Abi asked as she emptied a second bottle of vodka down the sink.

‘I’ve got no money, sweetheart. I’m back, but I wondered if we could forget about the rent this month.’

‘You can't forget rent, Mum. It has this annoying habit of needing to be paid.’

She became tearful. ‘I'm such a bad person. I've been such a crap mum.’ She clasped my knee with her hand. ‘Look at her. She’s precious. She’s so precious, and here I am waltzing in with all my problems. I’m so bad with money the only things I can hand down to her are my flawless skin and unfathomably youthful appearance. Good genes. Things are still tight everywhere, if you know what I mean. If this works out, you can thank me later.’

‘Fucking hell, Mum’

‘She'll grip you until you’re of an age where sex won’t matter anymore,’ she said, tapping her pubic bone as I looked for a corner to hide in.

‘I think you need to go to bed,’ Abi said, smiling in my direction.

‘I think I’d like to stay and get to know this one better.’ Abi’s mum winked at me while Abi dropped her head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you’d got yourself a boyfriend?’

‘Because you’d do this. You’d turn up unannounced and offer yourself to him.’

‘I wouldn’t! Don’t listen to her. I’ve been offering my only daughter relationship advice for years. She doesn’t give a fuck, but that doesn’t stop me trying. I don’t want her to be lonely. Not like me.’

‘You’ve never been lonely. You don’t leave a big enough gap between men to be lonely.’ Abi crossed her arms, forcing me to drag my gaze away from her magnificent breasts. I turned to find her mum smirking.

‘She gets them from me,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I saw you, mister tall-dark-and-handsome. She has quite a beautiful set, doesn’t she? Are you a tit man?’

‘Bed. Now!’ Abi ordered.

I realised that I’d just had a front row seat to a glimpse into Abi’s childhood and knew from this small but awkwardly strange introduction that Abi had been the parent for most of her life. I think I fell more in love with her in that moment.

‘Come on. I’ll help you get ready to pass out.’ She smiled as she put her arms around her mum’s neck and walked her through to the other bedroom.

* * *

‘Wow. No need to tell me where you get your ballsy mouth. I've just seen into the future and I’m not sure I’ll survive it.’ I handed her a mug of tea and kissed her on her forehead. She wrapped her body into me, shivering slightly.

‘I’m sorry. She’s a handful sometimes.’

‘Don’t worry. Honestly, I think I’ve learnt more about you in the last twenty minutes than I have in the whole time I’ve known you.’ I pulled her from me and took her hand before walking back to her room where we both lay down on the bed.

‘She’s not always like that. Well, she is, but being drunk doesn’t need to accompany her habit of saying what the hell she wants. That’s a given.’

‘Does she really offer you relationship advice?’

‘She tries.’

‘I wouldn’t listen.’

‘Sometimes she can be quite insightful. She knows you’re a tit man,’ she said with a smile.

‘Abi, when it comes to your body, I show no preference.’ I drew my hand down the curve of her hip. She turned into me and rested her head on my chest.

‘She doesn’t always cope well. I have to look out for her.’

‘Tell me everything. I want to know it all. Your parents, your friends, where you grew up. I want to know what’s made you who you are.’

She turned onto her front and cradled her head in her hands. She was still facing me but with slightly more trepidation. ‘You first,’ she deflected.

‘Well, I grew up in Luton but gravitated towards London every chance I could. There was just me and my mum. My dad died when I was fourteen. Not a great age to lose your hero. It’s so weird to think he’s been dead as long as he was a part of my life.’

‘Your dad died?’

‘Yeah, bone cancer. Three months after diagnosis.’

‘Oh God, this is so weird. My dad died when I was eight,’ she stuttered.

‘I’m sorry. Fuck. You were so young to lose him.’

‘I’m sorry too.’

‘I went off the rails for a bit. Nothing too heavy. I just turned into a fourteen-year-old dick for a while. I got in with the wrong crowd, ran away from home, drank, smoked weed. I got taken in for nicking a bike from a neighbour’s front garden. Turned out the copper was an old mate of my dad’s. I got a reality-inducing pep talk. Hearing someone say my dad would hate to see me acting like that was like a punch to the balls. I found out years later that my mum had set the whole thing up.’

‘She loves you,’ she whispered as she stroked my neck.

‘Yeah. It was the two of us against the world. So are you going to tell me your story?’

She visibly withdrew, not just her fingers from my neck or her eyes from my face, but her whole self.

‘We don’t all have nice guy hero dads. Mine was an arsehole.’ She turned her body to the other side of the bed. I followed, wrapping my arms around her.

‘Tell me why.’

Her chest heaved under my arms. ‘He wasn’t violent, but he had a temper. Expectations of how I should behave, I guess. I was a fireball. Never followed the rules.’

‘No way. I don’t believe it.’ I couldn’t help but be sarcastic.

‘One time, he had a friend over from work and asked me to get some beers for them from the fridge. I wasn’t quick enough, so he went to get it himself. I thought that was the end of it. He woke me up later and poured a jug of cold water over me. The bed was drenched and I had to sleep on the floor. He was unpredictable. I never knew what mood he was going to be in. Alcohol did that, so it made me watchful. We lived in high-rise flats, so I quickly made friends with the other kids. We’d play on the balcony because it was a great way of staying out of his way. We didn’t really have a relationship towards the end. Isn’t that sad?’

I held her and supported the deep breaths she was fighting through her body. She was honest and open. She didn’t hold anything back because she didn’t have to. She sat on her knees, naked and exposed, talking about her father like he was someone she didn’t relate any part of herself to.

She crossed her legs and cradled my head in her lap. She told me she went out to play as if nothing had happened the afternoon he’d pulled his car over to the side of the road, clutching at his chest before slumping across the steering wheel, two bottles of beer at his feet. She talked steadily of how he held out his hand to her as he sought comfort in the last few minutes of his life despite never showing affection before.

She traced her fingers across my eyebrow as she talked about holding on to his little finger, letting his hand drop to the ground as she got out of the car to flag down help.

‘My mum needed something to take away the pain and hurt after he died. She found it at the bottom of a wine glass. She just couldn't forgive him for leaving her like that, but you know the hardest thing? She could have drunk herself to death too. She was all I had left, but she just couldn't make the connection that the loss she was struggling with would be the same for me if I lost her.’

I took her hand and pulled her closer. ‘I think when you lose a parent so young, no matter what kind of parent, the experience dims you slightly, or turns your volume down. You know, I really believe that the things you go through that change the direction of your life can have a really positive impact on the kids we work with. It helps me relate to them. I can look them in the eye and say I’ve been there. It does get better. Things can change.’ She listened and took it all in. She turned into my body, running her fingers down my chest and resting underneath my belly button.

‘I think that’s why I chose this as a career. I learned so much about myself through grief counselling, and my counsellor really did change my life. I wanted to be that person for someone else,’ she replied thoughtfully, like she had never made that connection before.

‘You’re changing my life.’

‘You’re changing mine. You don’t know what you do to me.’

‘Tell me.’

‘You make me less fierce. Softer,’ she said as I tightened my arms around her.

‘I’ve always seen your softer side.’

‘I know.’ She looked at me so clearly, like everything was finally falling into place. It was a look of contentment that she’d never had before. I could see it in her eyes. Now she looked at me like I would be the only person who could provide it, and that felt fucking astounding.