Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (59 page)

I glanced away again and Flor leaned forward, kissing the side of my neck, brushing my hair back from my face. One arm circled around me and pulled me down to the roof while he settled himself on top of me. His fingers found my panties and stroked along the fabric, forcing me to bite my lip to keep from crying out. My clit was hard beneath his fingers and I knew I was already wet, completely soaked through. Just
looking
at him was usually enough to get me there.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight and reveled in the feel of him pulling the fabric down, revealing my entire body to him in one smooth motion. He continued downward, letting my body weight rest on the roof as he moved back and tossed the panties aside. I opened my eyes suddenly and found them tumbling over the edge to the yard, just like the champagne bottle.

I didn't have a chance to protest because Flor was back, pressing the heat of his body against mine. I could feel him hard and ready at my opening, as desperate for me as I was for him. I bit my lip so hard it bled, looked up into his face and rested my palms on his cheeks.

I can't do this,
I thought, and then,
but I want to. I can't, but I
need
to.

Flor pushed himself against me and I spread my legs at the knee, opening up for him, letting him in. The fullness of his body made me gasp as I dug my nails into the strong muscles of his back and arched my own, trying to take every inch in one, single thrust. I wanted Flor to be mine, to feel my body wrapped around his and like it better than any other woman he'd been with. I wanted him to forget Rhonda, to forget about sleeping around, to want only me.

Our hips arched together and another sigh fell from my lips, captured by Flor's mouth as he kissed me, his own sounds of pleasure mixing with my own. If he'd thought having him like this would quench my thirst, he was wrong. I felt my need and my desire for him grow, felt myself rocking against him as his body and mine melted into one, bare flesh sliding together in a sea of sweat and groans and voices stifled by kisses.

“Abigail,” he growled again, taking my head in his hands and kissing my forehead before he leaned back and pushed my thighs aside, thrust harder and faster and deeper into me. Those green eyes never strayed from my face, sharp as pine needles, brilliant. I saw his dark head silhouetted against the afternoon sky. There was something else I both wanted and dreaded for him to say. He must've seen it on my face because he slowed down, only briefly and leaned forward to whisper, “
nee-chan.
”

Those were the sweetest, strangest syllables I had ever heard.

I felt him move again, felt my own body rise up and let the pleasure wash over and through me.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I woke to shivers and stars, curling up closer to the only source of warmth I could find. When I opened my eyes and found the hard, perfect planes of Flor's back filling my vision, I balked.

Oh my God. What did I just do?

Not only had I fallen asleep on a roof (not the safest idea in the world), but I was curled up against Florian. We were both still naked, and I found myself searching around for something to put on. The blanket I'd brought out was wrapped around Flor and tucked underneath him, so that I'd have to wake him to move it. Rather than doing that, I hunted around for my shirt and found it sticky with champagne. Images of my panties fluttering over the edge of the rooftop assailed me, and I flushed. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I managed to locate Flor's shirt and slipped it over my head. Since my leggings were
also
covered in champagne, I gathered them up and tossed them in the still open window along with my shirt.

Tucking my legs up under the black fabric, I closed my eyes and reveled in the smell of Flor's clothing. There was that citrus tang of his shampoo and a gentle lingering of cigarette smoke. I clutched the fabric tight in my fingertips and poked him with my toe. Already my face was turning red and memories were dancing in front of my eyes like specters.

Flor's hard hot body moving above me, the feel of him deep inside, the rush of pleasure I felt followed by the shudder of his own.
I choked back a noise and clamped my palm over my mouth. We should've used a condom, but thank God I was on birth control. I poked Flor again and he grumbled, much the same way as he'd always done when I'd found him sleeping on the couch or, once, on my own bed with my diary clutched in his then bare fingers. When I leaned over him now, I saw the shadows of color, the tattoos that were barely visible in the darkness.
What time was it?
I wondered, rubbing at my upper arms and shivering against the early winter chill in the air. Eugene was a fairly mild city when it came to weather, but it was also faithful to the seasons. Winter was on its way and it was
cold.

“Flor,” I whispered, brushing some hair from his forehead, wondering how things would be between us when those dark lashes of his fluttered open and his green eyes found mine.
What was I thinking?
“Flor.” More loudly this time, just enough to get him to stir.

He grumbled awake, facing away from me and then, slowly, turned. Our gazes met and my body lit up like the Fourth of July, like that memory from the locket was pulsing through me and morphing into something older, more mature. What would it be like to watch fireworks up here with him? To have his arm around my waist, to go inside and climb into bed and feel him move inside of me? For a brief second there, I'd almost forgotten I was at my parents' house.
Our
parents' house.

“Shit,” Flor groaned, pushing himself up and onto his knees. He rubbed a hand over his hair, the blanket covering just the right amount of him for me to stay civil, and looked around. At first his green eyes were confused, but recognition slowly dawned and we were left staring at one another.

I wished I could say his face filled with love, that he reached out and cupped my cheek, kissed me and told me it would all work out okay. Somehow, someway. But no, instead he shook his head like he was trying to clear it and then groaned, covering his face with both hands.

“Shit,” he said again, looking up at me. His gaze pierced through me like an arrow and his lips parted, but before he got the chance to say anything, we both heard the rumble of tires and saw the sweep of headlights across the yard. “When were they supposed to be back?” he asked frantically, and I shook my head. I didn't know.

Flor and I both scrambled for the window, collecting the discarded items as we went. He helped me through first, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my ass, either by accident or design I'm not sure. My bare feet hit the wood floor and I stumbled towards the attic stairs, already praying that it was Max or Addi or someone else entirely at the front door. At this point, I'd even settle for Rhonda. Anyone but my parents.

I moved down the stairs quickly, cringing as River's voice traveled up from the first floor to meet us.

“Florian? Abigail? We're back.” Footsteps sounded below as I scrambled into my old bedroom and flung the drawers open, looking feverishly for something to wear. I'd done a damn good job packing my stuff and was left with a single pair of old pajama pants, ripped down one side but better than nothing at all. Underwear I had to give up on, and I managed to dress myself just as Flor stumbled by and paused, moving into my room and hiding the blanket and champagne stained clothes in my closet.

A second later, River appeared in the doorway and paused.

There I was, standing in mismatched, faded pajama pants that had once had hearts on them, dressed in Flor's shirt with my hair mussed and my lips swollen and a tender ache between my legs that said Flor was
definitely
bigger than Max. My stepbrother stood beside me in jeans and nothing else, just as mussed, just as disheveled as I was.

I rushed to fill the silence.

“I, uh, fell asleep and I guess Flor didn't realize I was here. I didn't know he was here either,” I added uselessly, wondering how this looked, wondering how River could possibly miss the heavy tension between us.

Flor tucked his left hand in his pocket and withdrew a cigarette with his right.

“I'm gonna go have a smoke,” he said, ambling away like he didn't have a care in the world. His mother moved aside to let him pass, a strange glow suffusing her cheeks. When she looked at me again, she was actually smiling.

“When you're done doing … whatever,” she said, cocking her head to the side curiously. I guess I looked a little weird, standing there next to my old dresser in a nearly empty room, doing absolutely nothing. “Meet me downstairs. Your father and I want to have a talk with the two of you.” I nodded and River moved away, taking one last look at Flor's shirt draped over my shoulders.

I pored through the rest of the drawers and nearly sobbed in relief when I found a tank top I'd left behind. It was big and boxy and definitely not the most flattering piece of clothing in existence, but when you've just slept with your stepbrother and are being forced to face your parents, it beats being caught.

I slipped the top on and retreated to the bathroom, desperately battling my hair with the lone brush left in the top drawer. Some deodorant, a quick brush of my teeth, and I felt ready to face the world. Well, as ready as I ever would considering the circumstances. It'd have been nice to have a pair of panties, too.

My heart clenched at the thought of my father walking out back to mow the lawn and finding a pair of lacy purple nothings laying in his perfect grass. I swallowed hard and shook my head.
No. No.
I would find some way to get out there and grab the damn panties, even if it killed me.

I went down the stairs slowly, my hand caressing the familiar dark wood of the banister, my stomach fluttering and my knees going weak as I contemplated facing Flor again.
I had sex with my stepbrother.
I clutched a hand in the red fabric of my tank top.
No, I had sex with Florian. Flor. The guy I've been in love with for years.
Why then did I still feel so nervous, so unsure?

I walked into the kitchen and found my dad pouring himself a glass of wine while my stepmom worked to make some coffee. The time on the stove was eleven thirty, late but not too late. I wrapped my arms around myself and sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, glancing over my shoulder to find Flor smoking in the backyard. Fortunately he didn't catch me looking at him and I turned around, finding my dad staring at me instead.

“Are you and your brother both planning to spend the night here?” he grumbled and I shrugged, noticing the way his blue eyes took in my attire, his brows pinching. “You both parked in the driveway,” he added randomly. I gave him a look and shrugged, not sure what he was getting at. “So how did Flor miss the fact that you were here?”

Uh oh. Five minutes in and my lies were already falling apart.

“And what was he doing in your room?” Crap. My dad was staring at me, really staring at me, and it was sort of freaking me out. He'd always been a little wary of Flor, but did he really think … ? I felt my face flush, shrugged again, and glanced away, reaching out to grab an apple from one of my stepmom's decorative fruit bowls. I guess my dad was right on the money if he was really worried about anything happening between Flor and me. Because it had. It had. It had.

I swallowed hard and bit down on the apple as Flor came in the back door, still shirtless, still achingly beautiful. I glanced sidelong at him and immediately my eyes caught on the protrusion of purple coming from his pocket.
My panties. Flor has my panties in his pocket.
I looked back over at our parents in alarm, but neither of them were paying him much attention. My dad was still looking at me funny and my stepmom was smiling to herself.

“What do you guys want to talk about?” Flor asked with a yawn, running his fingers through his mussy hair. “I didn't mean to fall asleep here, and I really gotta get going.” I forced myself to take another bite of the apple and stared at the white countertops, at the veins of gray that wove through the stone. My mind wouldn't stop pulling at the feelings inside of me, the memory of Flor's body hot and wanting. For me. Just for me.

“Patience, Florian. Good things come to those who wait.” River smiled and turned to my dad who,
finally,
decided to pull his interrogating gaze away from me. When his eyes met my stepmother's, they both smiled and little crows feet pulled at the edges of both their gazes. They even
looked
like a couple who'd been together a long time.
Ugh.

I put a hand over my belly and leaned forward, barely tasting the sweet acidity of the apple in my mouth. Flor was definitely making an effort not to look at me, so I stared at the panties in his pocket instead. I really, really wanted to talk to him, to figure this out and see where we were, what was going to happen from this point on.
Please make this quick so I can get out of here.

“Florian,” River began, clearing her throat. “Abigail.” I looked up and found our parents still gazing into one another's eyes. “I'm sure you've been wondering where we've been going for all of this out of town business.” Neither Florian nor I said anything. I don't think either of us had even given it a second thought, considering everything else that was going on between us. “Well, we haven't been going far. There's a … clinic in Portland we've been going to.”

I glanced up sharply and Flor took a step forward.

“A clinic?” he asked, alarm in his voice. I knew that Flor really loved his mom, that even though he treated her with disrespect at times, they had a close bond, forged hard as steel long before my dad and I had ever entered the picture. It made my chest ache, not because I wanted him to hate his mom, but because I was mad at myself for simply seeing their relationship as an obstacle. It made me feel like a bad person, and I didn't want to be. “Are you okay? What's going on?”

“I'm fine, Flor,” she said, her eyes shining as she looked from him to me and back again. “I … I know it's a little late and some people might think I'm a little old, but … ”