ANDREW woke up on his back. His body stiffened as grief and sorrow washed over him. He could have sworn he heard his own voice calling Emma’s name. Disoriented and stirred up, he sat upright and looked around. He was surprised that Abby was still asleep, looking so peaceful that it brought him back to the magic that was last night. He let out a thankful sigh that she hadn’t heard.

He wondered how he would have explained calling out another woman’s name while she slept beside him. Granted, Emma was his beloved wife—his dear dead wife—so that part may not have been too complex to share. But crying out her name with such anguish would have been another thing to explain. He wasn’t ready to go there. It had been two years of daily torment, and the past had no right jeopardizing his future. Hadn’t he paid enough?

Maybe Abby was his next chance. He was almost sure of it. Her gaze touched his soul in ways he never felt before. They were so warm; so honest; so therapeutic that she quite possibly had healed him the first time he had locked eyes with her. The dreams needed to end. It was time. He needed to exorcise them from his mind for good. And Abby did not ever need to hear them.

Andrew noticed it was after seven in the morning. The first light was just starting to stream in through the window blinds. He ran his hands through his hair, weighing whether to go back to sleep. That was when he heard Abby stirring beside him.

“Andrew.” Gold, silken locks tumbled down her shoulders as she slowly sat up. She turned to wrap her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulders.

“Good morning, Abby.” He so enjoyed her warm welcome, it was easy to halt his tormented thoughts. He slipped one arm around her back and pulled her closer. “How are you feeling? Still tired?”

“Normally I’m an early riser,” she said, “but I have to admit, I could use a few more winks. What time is it?”

“Just after seven,” he answered. “Lots of time left to the day, and not much we can do out there.”

“Is it still snowing?”

“Let me check.” He pulled away gently and got out of bed, then walked to the windows and pushed aside some of the vertical blinds. He looked out over the lake

“No.” His heart sank a little. “It looks like it’s stopped.”

“That’s great,” she said, raising one hand to shade her eyes from the piercing light. “Wow, it’s so bright out there.”

“It is.” He walked back to stand at the foot of the bed and admired her anew.

“These windows face southwest, so the morning sun is fierce in here. I like it, though.”

“Maybe I can use some more time in bed.” She laid back and pulled the covers over her, all the way up to her neck.

“Still sleepy?”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” she teased seductively. “Get back in here and I’ll show you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He quickly got back into his spot beside her, leaned over, and planted a soft but hungry kiss on her tender lips. God, she tasted sublime. His heat level ratcheted up a few notches as Abby pressed her sensuous, naked body on him.

“Mmm,” he groaned, wanting nothing more than to slip inside her and take her, as he had done a few hours ago. He wanted to take his time and enjoy all the gifts she was giving. “Let’s have a shower.”

Abby agreed with her eyes, so he got out of bed and walked around to her side to help her up. He held out an arm to support her when she stood up. He was so in the moment, he didn’t notice it was that arm.

“Did it hurt when this happened?”

Her soft fingertips began to run the length of his scar with such tenderness, he moaned. He was torn. Every instinct screamed for him to pull his arm away and put some distance between him and Abby. He didn’t want to revisit this painful part of his past with anyone.

For some reason, he was frozen in place. Her touch was like the kindest animal whisperer. She had sung this injured beast into an enchanting trance. It was a trance that mesmerized said beast to the point that all it could do was leave its raw paw in her hands to remove whatever was causing pain. There was no doubt in his mind that she had picked the right profession.

He stared at her, unable to answer in his bewitched state. She leaned down to his arm and kissed his wrist so softly. He accepted her kisses as they trailed slowly and gingerly up the scar until she got to his bicep. When she did, her eyes sought his. He didn’t even feel the solitary tear when it rolled down his cheek. As it cooled near his jaw, he brushed it away with his other hand.

Abby took both his arms and wrapped them around her waist, pressing herself to him as though telling him everything would be all right. Her head rested on his chest and she hugged him with such genuine warmth, all he could do was bask. After a few long, but vital minutes, she looked up at him.

“Let’s have that shower,” she said, attempting to turn on her good foot and lead him to his bathroom.

His brain and his body finally kicked into action. He swooped her up in his arms and carried her toward the shower.

“I’d like to try walking sometime,” she quipped, nibbling on his ear and driving him close to the edge.

“You don’t like this?” he asked.

“No, I mean yes, I like it,” she answered, flustered but smiling. “I’m just trying not to get too used to it. Otherwise my first splurge purchase one day may be for a Man Friday.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “I’d be the first one to apply.”

When he got to the door, he lowered her carefully and she limped into the room ahead of him. She let him pass to turn the water on in the shower. Its tiles were flush with the floor, so it was easy for Abby to maneuver inside on her own. He wished he had let her stay in his room from the night they first kissed. It would have been safer for her—and more pleasurable for them both.

She reached for his body wash and loofa sponge.

“God, I needed this,” she moaned, pouring soap into the sponge and rubbing it across her chest.

“Want me to wash your back?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes, please.”

He took the sponge but was enthralled. He watched the hot water cascade down her back. Leaning into the spray, she lifted her hair and let the water wash the soap buds down her body until they swirled and disappeared down the drain. Andrew dropped the loofa sponge and wrapped his hands around her waist, turning her gently in the spray.

“Um…I thought you were going to wash my back,” she inquired.

“I can’t. Not now.” He flicked his gaze down and she followed his glance. His cock stood erect from his dark bush of hair, pointing directly at her.

“Mmmm. Guess we will have to change those plans.” She smiled softly, lips rising at the corners.

And then she did the most amazing thing. Abby knelt slowly in the stall and took him in her mouth. As the water struck his chest and rolled down his abdomen, pooling and dripping down his shaft, she worked as hard as possible to suck him dry.

He ran his hands over her silky hair and cupped the back of her head, slowing her down. Looking up from under her lashes, she let his cock pop free of her mouth. Taking it in both hands, she stroked him hard and fast, from tip to base. He groaned, clutching her head harder. Sticking out her tongue, she lapped the dripping water from his tip. She eased her tongue over the head and flicked the nerves there, testing his willpower.

“Oh God,” he muttered.

She spread her lips, gripped the base of his cock, and held him steady as she once again took him deep down her throat. Again and again, she pushed the limits of his control. He was ready to explode, balls drawn up tight and purple with the effort to hold his passion in.

Finally—all too soon and yet way past due—she released him and stood up. Pressing her breasts to his chest, she tiptoed on her good leg and kissed him hard. He could almost taste himself in her mouth. She had one arm wrapped around his neck, teasing the hairs along his nape. The other, she wrapped around his waist. Reaching down, she grabbed his ass and pulled him tight against her. His hardness was trapped between their bodies. He wanted to move, to slide into her, but she held him too closely.

Andrew kissed her back; their tongues wrestling, dueling for supremacy. She didn’t seem ready to let him take over. She was directing this interlude and he was happy to go along for the ride. Growling, he let her have her way. He opened his mouth and let her explore every inch she desired. He closed his eyes and let her kiss him wherever she wanted. His hands rested on her hips, though his fingers flexed as he fought his decision.

Her nails scraped down his bare back and then up. His body reacted—a pure, primal reply. He took her hands and pulled away from her, supporting her stance so she wouldn’t trip backwards or slip on the tile. He was ready to take back the reins—but only to please her, body and soul.

“Hold on to the safety bar,” he instructed.

She did.

“Spread your legs.”

She did.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Abby.”

She sighed. For a second he feared she wouldn’t play along, then she spoke.

“Touch my breasts.”

Andrew did. He had her panting, moaning his name. She pushed her ass back in need.

“What else?”

“Touch my clit.”

She was whimpering, each word a sob of desire. He caressed down her abdomen, reveling in the way her skin shivered and vibrated under his fingertips. At the first loving touch, he felt her stomach tighten and heard her moans turn to squeaks. She was incredibly close. Her clit was swollen and erect. He was gentle, circling around and around the bud of flesh. He knew better than to play too much when she was this close.

“And?” he whispered in her ear.

“Come inside me, Andrew.”

He held nothing back. The thought of safe sex left the building with rational thinking and was nowhere to be found. Lifting her completely off the ground, he angled his cock between her legs. One, then two strokes along her tight opening and she was keening, head falling back and mouth open.

Tilting his hips, he slipped through her folds and entered her an inch at a time. Her muscles tightened on his cock. Withdrawing, he pushed in again. Another inch. Withdrew. In. Out. In. Out. Inch by inch, he pierced her opening. He filled her core and captured her heart. At least, he hoped so. God knew he was already a goner. This woman, without his permission or any planning of his own, had become the most important person in his life. She was his life.

He lowered her slowly until her feet touched the floor. Going with the moment, he sat on the warm, wet floor of the shower, and gently pulled her down to sit facing him on his lap. He filled his palms with her breasts, and kissed her shoulder and neck.

“Ride me, Abby. Find your pleasure.”

She rose on his lap, folding her knees beside his legs. Without shame, lost in sensations, she bounced on his cock. She took her pleasure from him; he just followed her on her journey. Beginning to reach an erratic, speedy pace, half the time barely moving her body above her undulating pelvis, to him it seemed that she had no idea how to find her own release.

He lowered his hands to slow her, lifted her from his shaft, holding her suspended above him. With three long strokes, he filled her completely and withdrew, leaving her empty. Upon melding their bodies, joining their futures, a fourth time, he hadn’t prepared himself for the scream she let out. He hugged her close, and impaled himself deep inside her quivering walls. Her climax tore wildly through her body. As she slowly relaxed, he let go of his own release. Erupting within her warm channel, he lifted her face toward him and kissed her lips.