Her arms dipped from their place around my neck to my back.

“Yes,” I shouted as her nails scratched me. Mark me. Possess me. “Damn it. Yes.”

I knew then that as much as I might possess her, she also possessed me. That thought, the thought of her owning me, sent me into more of a frenzy. I thrust into her again, wanting to force myself deeper.

She groaned in my arms.

“Not yet, Abigail.” I pounded her into the door again, slipped even deeper inside. “I’m not finished.”

I would never f**king be finished with her.

She groaned again as her muscles tightened around my cock.

“You better not come before I tell you,” I said, thrusting into her again. “I brought the leather strap.”

Her nails ran down my back again, and I felt the marks she left behind. Knowing she’d marked me increased my fury and we hit the door again. She moaned once more. I knew I was being unfair not letting her release. She just felt so f**king good. I bent my legs lower and angled my h*ps to hit a different place inside her on my next thrust. She groaned in response.

That’s right, Abby. Your moans and groans are for me and me alone.

I thrust into her three more times and I knew I couldn’t hold on anymore. Not to her. Not to myself.

She whimpered again, the strain of trying so hard not to cl**ax evident in her expression.

“Now,” I said in a whisper.

She let her breath out in a sigh of relief, her orgasm causing her to spasm around me. Over and over, her muscles constricted my cock. I dropped my head and bit into her shoulder as I came deep within her, unable to hold out any longer.

With trembling arms, I held her pressed again the door while I struggled to get my breathing under control. She leaned her body against me and I pulled back to look at her, brushed the hair away from her face.

She looked thoroughly and completely f**ked.

I propped her up and staggered into the closest bathroom. Several towels and washcloths hung from the sink’s towel bar. I took one and soaked it in warm water.

When I made it back to the doorway, Abby hadn’t moved. I parted her legs and washed away the traces of her arousal and my release. Gently. After last night and what had just happened, I was certain she was sore. Or would be.

I washed her, looked into her soft, trusting eyes, and knew what I had to do.

I had to tell her.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I wasn’t sure what I was sorry for—the rough sex, the truth I hadn’t told her, the pain she would feel when I did tell her. All of it, maybe. All of it and then some. “I have to go out. I’ll be back later.” Because in that moment, I couldn’t look her in the eyes knowing I’d lied to her.

Chapter Twenty-four

As I jogged the next morning, I thought back to the previous evening and my conversation with Todd. I’d knocked on his door after leaving Abby. He had looked surprised, but agreed to talk with me in one of the hotel’s lounges.

He had seemed relieved at my decision to tell Abby, but I knew the hard part would be the actual telling. Todd had talked with me for several hours, saying repeatedly that I’d made the right decision. He even seemed content with my timeline—I’d tell her within three weeks.

The entire time, the thought that ran through my head most was I no longer have all the time in the world. I have three weeks.

Three weeks.

I’d left Todd and gone down to the lobby to play the hotel piano. Of course, the only song that came to mind was Abby’s song. I’d counted as I played:

Three weeks.

Twenty-one days.

Five hundred and four hours.

I still wasn’t sure how to tell her, but I knew one thing—I sure as hell wouldn’t be telling her anything this weekend.

I’d played for hours, letting the music take over my mind, just as Abby had taken over my soul. With each note I played, I felt myself grow calmer and calmer. By the time I’d returned to the suite, I’d felt more like myself than I had in weeks.

I told myself I was still the same man I’d always been. The same exact one. Except now I had Abby in my life. I would tell her the truth sometime in the next few weeks and . . .

Well, I didn’t know what would happen then. I didn’t want to think about that yet. We still had this weekend to get through.

I finished my jog and returned to the suite. Stepping into Abby’s room, I noted she was still asleep. Good. I probably had time to shower before she woke up.

By the time she made it into the suite’s living room, I had showered and dressed for the day. She stood in the doorway between the dining and living room, wearing pants, a gray sweater, and a devilish grin.

I let out a sigh of relief. At least she didn’t appear scared after the rough sex of the night before. She looked . . . refreshed . . . replete . . . and totally f**kable.

She danced over to the coffeepot, poured a cup of coffee and, God help me, wiggled her ass.

I almost spilled my coffee.

The panty lines, idiot. She’s showing you her panty lines.

Abby wanted a spanking.

My c**k went hard in less than three seconds.

“Abigail,” I said calmly. “Do I see panty lines?”

She held still for just a second. Just stood there and let me admire her ass.

I placed the coffee cup on the table in front of me. “Come here.”

She turned, devilish grin still in place.

“You’re wearing panties.” I walked behind her. “Take them off. Now.”

With trembling hands, she undid her pants and pushed them to the floor. Her panties joined her pants.

“Over the arm of the couch, Abigail.”

She draped herself over the couch and lifted her butt in the air.

I gave her ass a sharp slap. “No more panties the rest of the weekend.” I slapped it again. “When I finish, you will go to your room and bring them all out to me.” Another one. “You’ll get them back when I say.” Another slap. “Which won’t be next weekend either.” Slap. “I told you last night what will happen next weekend.”

I slapped her ass again. Her skin was turning such a lovely shade of pink. I slipped a hand between her legs. Fuck, she was wet. Her butt pushed back toward me.

“Not this morning.” I spanked her again. Believe me, I wish we had time. “Put your pants on and bring me what I asked for.”

She stood slowly and redid her pants. Her expression was one of intense longing.

Next weekend, Abby. I promise. We’ll have all the time in the world.

At least for the next three weeks.

She gave an impish grin and trotted back to her room, returning moments later with an armful of panties.

“Planning on staying in Tampa long, Abigail?” I said, taking them from her.

“I like to be prepared, Master,” she said with lowered eyes.

Fuck.

When we entered the ballroom for brunch, I glanced around the room. Many of my business associates were present. Several of Jackson’s friends stood together talking and, in one corner, Felicia talked with Linda. Another couple stood nearby.

I sighed.

Melanie’s parents. And they had seen us come in.

I didn’t want to leave Abby’s side, but I knew I had to at least chat with them and I preferred to do so without Abby present. Abby knew I’d dated Melanie. I suspected she also knew Melanie was not my submissive. But Melanie’s parents didn’t know of my lifestyle. At least, I didn’t think they did.

“We’re a bit early.” I dropped my hand to Abby’s lower back. Just in case the Tompkinses had any doubt, I wanted them to know I was with Abby. Word would get back to Melanie, of course. Perhaps she would find some closure in that.

“I need to go speak with a few people,” I told Abby. “Should I take you over to Felicia and Linda or are you okay here?”

“I’ll be fine here.” She glanced over to where Elaina and Todd stood.

She wanted to talk to Elaina. Probably to see if Elaina would tell her anything about last night. It was a nice try, but it wouldn’t work. I knew Todd would not betray my confidence.

I brushed my finger along the top of her arm. “I won’t be long.”

The Tompkinses watched as I approached and I swallowed my grin. I hadn’t spoken to them face-to-face since I broke things off with Melanie.

“Ivan,” I said, shaking her father’s hand. “How are you?”

“Nathaniel.” He spoke far more civilly than I would have, had the situation been reversed.

“I’m so glad you were able to come,” I said with a sideways glance at Melanie’s mother, Tabitha.

“Well.” He slapped my back. “We decided to let the past stay in the past. Sometimes things don’t work out.”

I noticed Tabitha didn’t seem to share the sentiment.

“How is Melanie?” I asked.

“She’s still in New York,” her father said.

Yes, of course she was still in New York. Had she not been in New York, she wouldn’t have told Elaina and Todd about my lifestyle and perhaps I wouldn’t have the three-week deadline staring me in the face.

“I wish her every happiness,” I said.

Tabitha gave a humph in reply.

“We know you do, Nathaniel,” Ivan said. “Our families have had a long and happy relationship. That won’t change just because things between you and Melanie didn’t work out.”

“Ivan, look,” his wife said. “Isn’t that Samuel over there?”

“Why, yes. Yes, it is.” He turned back to me. “You will excuse us, won’t you, Nathaniel?”

“Of course, sir.”

He winked at me. “I’ll come by later to meet your new lady friend.”

I felt relieved at that. Tabitha would tell Melanie and then she could move on with her life. Find someone who could love her the way she deserved.

After they left, I chatted for a few minutes with some colleagues who had traveled to Tampa for the game. The box was under my name, but Linda had rented the ballroom. It was no accident on either of our parts that Melanie had not been invited to the game or the brunch. I’d told Linda to invite her parents, hoping to make peace between us. Looked like that mission had been accomplished.

Linda approached me as I moved toward Abby. “How did it go with them?”

“As well as could be expected. Ivan was fine, but I think Tabitha is still upset she can’t order the monogrammed towels.”

“I told her as much weeks ago. I even mentioned Abby—”

“Linda.”

“Now, now.” She patted my arm. “She might as well learn sooner rather than later. Melanie will never be a West.”

“I’m not marrying anyone.”

“Why don’t you go rescue Abby? Elaina has been chewing her ear off since you walked in.”

I collected Abby from Elaina and Todd, and the four of us wandered to the buffet line. Felicia joined our table when we sat down. Jackson, I knew, would be with the other players until the game was over.

“Nathaniel,” Felicia said as she sat down. It was the friendliest she’d ever spoken to me.

She’d hate me for what I’d done to Abby. If she ever found out I’d watched Abby for years . . . Even if Abby forgave me, Felicia never would.

“Felicia,” I said, acknowledging her greeting. I had three weeks. For three weeks, I could pretend all was well. “How’s Jackson doing?”

She chatted for several minutes about Jackson, the game, the players she’d met the previous night, their wives. I could see what Jackson liked about her. She did have a certain . . . something that fit well with him.

But, of course, she was no Abby.

“How long have you worked at the library, Abby?” Todd asked.

My head shot up. What the f**k?

She speared a piece of pineapple with her fork. “At the public library for seven years, but I worked at one of the campus libraries before that.”