28
Deacon
He pulled a clean shirt from the closet. He remembered Abby mention she liked how he looked in crisp white. He threw it on, realizing he had never once cared how he dressed for a woman.
Cole had agreed to push back the flight so Deacon could take Abby to the Bellagio exhibit. It was a date. Not something he was known for doing for a woman. The last time he tried to impress a girl was in high school. And yes, this was backward. He had already fucked her.
He didn’t care. He was ready to show her there were more sides of him. They both had a love for art. It was something they shared. And today he had a special surprise for her.
He walked out of his suite. Cole was on the couch with his laptop.
“We’re headed out, man,” he reported.
Cole looked up for a second. “Ok. I’ll have the valet take everything to the lobby and get the bags to the jet. Take your time at the exhibit. I have work to do.”
“Any word on Soar?” he asked. Last night they had spent their time in Abby’s bed, fucking each other senseless. He hadn’t read yesterday’s headlines.
“It’s all good. We have five million in donations.”
Deacon’s eyes widened. “Fuck. That’s insane.”
“It is.”
He heard her voice before he saw her. “Did you say five million in donations?” Abby walked into the room wearing a white sundress. Her breasts looked lush and ripe. His cock twitched.
“That’s right.” Cole grinned. “Soar is kicking ass and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.”
She walked toward them. Deacon held his hand out for her.
“Ready for the exhibit?”
She nodded. “I can’t wait to see it. Cole, are you sure you don’t want to go?”
“Yeah, that’s your thing. I have plenty to do. When you get back I’ll take a break.”
Abby twisted her lips together. Deacon knew she was still struggling with how to spend her time between them. She was great when the three of them were together, but the one-on-one time was harder to navigate. He knew it would get easier.
“Let’s go, sweetheart.”
She pulled her purse on her shoulder and they left the Rapture Resort for the Bellagio.
***
“I have a surprise for you.” Deacon held the door open for Abby as they walked into the lavish hotel.
“Is there an addition to the collection?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Guess again.”
“Do we have a tour with the museum curator?”
He laughed. “I don’t think so. Not really my style.”
“Then what is it?”
He guided her through the hotel and toward the museum. “What if I told you I rented out the museum for the afternoon? It’s ours.”
“What?” Her eyes lit with amazement. He loved all the shades of green when she was happy.
“Just for you. You can take your time and look at every single painting with no one looking over your shoulder. No one rushing you on to the next work. It’s all yours.”
“This is too much. You didn’t have to do that, Deac.”
He nodded at the guard who unlocked the exhibit for them.
“I know I didn’t. But I wanted to.”
“It’s extravagant. I’m fine looking at the paintings like everyone else. It’s what I’m used to.” She hesitated at the entrance.
“Abby, enjoy it. This is our day together. Don’t worry about the money. It’s not like I robbed the museum.” He winked.
She giggled involuntarily. “Ok. Fine. I’ll enjoy all the priceless works of art if you insist.”
“I do.”
The guard nodded, leaving them alone inside the recesses of the museum. Deacon wound his fingers through Abby’s and led her through the first row of paintings. They examined each one, discussing the lines and the colors. Abby told him what she liked and what she would have used instead, or remarked on how she wished she had come up with a particular color combination.
They strolled, taking in each canvas. Walking through the hushed halls.
Abby sat in front of one of the ballerina paintings.
“I think this is my favorite,” she whispered. “She’s sad, but I see the control and strength she has.”
Deacon sat next to her. He inhaled the shampoo from her hair as he brushed the strands away from her shoulder. He planted a kiss on her neck.
“I don’t think she looks sad,” he commented. “I think she looks serious.”
Abby shook her head. “No, she’s sad. Trapped almost.”
He tilted her chin toward him, grazing his lips against her mouth. She tasted like the sweetest honey, especially when he was between her legs.
“Do you still feel trapped?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered. “You freed me.”
He pressed his lips harder to hers, threading his tongue along hers. Twisting and licking. Sucking at her lips.
“You freed yourself, Abby.”
He moved around to the front of the bench, kneeling between her legs.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Going to make you come in front of this painting. You did say it’s your favorite.” He lowered her to the bench.
“But there are cameras everywhere,” she protested, pointing to the corners of the room.
“I don’t give a fuck.”
He ran a palm over the center of her feet, groaning when he felt the wet silkiness of her panties. He tucked a finger under the edge and massaged, nudging her clit until it was hard and peaked.
“Oh, Deac.” She ran her fingers through his hair.
Her sundress splayed around her as he lowered his face between her legs. She was sexy and ripe for him. He pushed her leg up, sliding her panties out fo the way as his tongue lapped at her folds.
She writhed on the bench. He swirled his tongue before dipping it inside her pussy. It was his slice of heaven. He fucking loved sucking her clit and pussy. She was so ready for it. Hot and eager. Her hips grinding with hunger for it. He pulsed his tongue inside her as she began to lose control.
He watched as she ran her hands over her breasts. She was slowly losing control. So was he. He’d never seen anything more beautiful. They were surrounded by some of the most amazing art in the world and the most stunning work was in his arms.
“Oh Deac, I want you. Please.” She lifted her head, locking her sultry gaze on him.
Deacon rose, shedding his pants. He shoved the boxer briefs to the museum floor as he stepped toward her. She opened her legs wide, inviting him in.
His bulging cock nestled at her entrance. He loved her pussy. For a second he waited, knowing the next sensation that would hit him would send him to heaven.
“Fuck,” he growled, sinking himself inside her. Sliding deep and slow, filling her with everything he had.
He began to pump in and out as she panted and rocked into him.
She trembled with sudden bursts as she began to come apart in his arms. It only made him want to bury himself in her deeper. He grunted as he fucked her as if these were his last breaths. His last seconds on Earth. He shot his release in her walls, coating her with his essence.
“Oh, Deacon.” She arched off the bench, absorbing everything he gave her.
“Fuck, Abby.” He pumped inside her until he had no energy. Until he collapsed on her chest.
“Oh my God. We just had sex in front of one of the most famous paintings in the world,” she gasped.
“Yes, we did. Want to try another?” He tried to catch his breath.
She giggled. “Do we have any lines we don’t cross?”
He leaned forward and kissed her. “I’ll cross any line you ask me to cross.”
He sat back, and helped her to an upright position.
“Deacon, can I ask you something seriously?” She looked up at him.
“What is it?” He retrieved his pants from the floor. He felt as if he had taken a five-hour nap. He was completely sated and relaxed.
“We’re going back to Chicago in a couple of hours. Then what?”
He fastened his belt. “What do you mean?”
“I finished the project for Soar. I fulfilled Vegas. What happens when we get back?”
He wasn’t the one who usually had the serious conversations. He left the heavy shit to Cole. He was better at it anyway. It was one reason they worked so well together as a team.
“I hope you’re asking me if you can move into the bedroom between Cole’s and mine.”
She smiled shyly. “Can I?”
“I don’t want you to move out, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I don’t want to either. I never want to go back to the Mantelli compound. But I can stand on my own. I need you and Cole to know that.”
“Hey.” He wrapped a hand around her waist. “We know exactly how strong you are. We want you to live with us. To work with us. I think you should head Soar from now on.”
“What?”
He nodded. “Soar should be yours. It’s our baby together. Cole and I can’t trust it with anyone else.”
“Deac, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes, sweetheart. Say you’ll stay. Say you are ours.”
She nodded. A tear slid down her cheek. “Yes.” She kissed him. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”