Cabin Fever: A New Adult and College Romance (The Billionaire Romance Redemption Series Book 2) (4 page)

ANDREW woke up to the shrill sound of the satellite phone ringing on his night table. The bright morning sunlight was streaming into his room, and Abby was curled up beside him. He turned and got out of bed to answer it in the back hallway, under the skylight.

“Yes?” He hit the soft key on the right to turn on the speakerphone setting.

“Good morning, Mr. Carrington. This is Bruce at Angel Air Paramedic.”

“Hello Bruce. So how is he?”

“He just got out of two back-to-back surgeries, sir. He’s stable and resting in the private recovery room.”

“And the arm?”

“They’ve inserted six pins to set it, sir. It will need a few months of physiotherapy after it heals. Anywhere between four to six months. The doctor believes he will be fine.”

“Good. And does he or his girlfriend need anything?”

“I think they’re both fine. She said his parents would travel down from Reno as soon as the roads are cleared. Probably later today.”

“If they need anything at all—”

“Not to worry sir. They’ll be fine here. We’ll set her up at the hotel next to the hospital if she wants to be close.”

“Thanks for the update, Bruce. Take care.”

Andrew hung up. The news couldn’t be any better. John was out of the woods, and wouldn’t lose the arm or experience any paralysis. With any luck after physio, he’d be as good as new. It was good news all round; and that would be a lot easier to share with John’s friends than the worst case scenario. He decided he would let Abby tell the rest of them.

It was close to eight in the morning. He put the phone down and went straight into the bathroom for a shower. He thought of her as he bathed himself, thinking how lucky he was to have met her, and he guessed, her friends as well. A pang of anxiety seized up his chest for a brief moment. It was getting closer to that time. His guests—and Abby—would be leaving soon. If the plows were already clearing the roads between Reno and Lake Tahoe, it would only be a day at most before they got to his side roads.

He took in a shallow breath as he thought about it. He stepped out of the shower, dried off and put a towel around his waist. Abby was awake when he got back into the bedroom.

“Good morning,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Good morning, Abby. Slept well?” He searched the large closet for a shirt and jeans to wear, and pulled a pair of boxers from one of the top drawers.

“Yes. It must be late. I feel like I’ve overslept.” She sat up and stretched her arms as she yawned.

“You didn’t do too badly. It’s around eight.”

“Okay.” She got out of bed and pulled on the robe before going into his arms. “You smell so good.”

He kissed her hair and held her close, the clothes he was planning to wear still hanging from one arm. If he could, he wouldn’t let her go. Not for a long time.

“I’m going to have a shower.” She looked up at him, studying his eyes and his face. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Great. And I have good news for you and your friends.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The air medic phoned. John’s going to be fine.”

“Oh thank God. What did they say?”

He threw the clothes on the bed and gave her the update on John’s status. He could see the relief on her face. She sank into his chest again, and let the weight of her slight frame lean into him for support. It was clear she had been bracing for the worst.

“This is excellent news, Andrew! Sure, he’ll probably miss a few weeks of school, maybe a full semester, if the demands of rehab are intense. But he’s going to be fine! Trina must be ecstatic. Oh, I’ve got to tell the others. I’ll have a shower and go let them know.”

“Perfect. I’ll start breakfast.”

“Wait a minute.” She studied his face again. “Was there something else?”

“No. Not really.”

“You look—well you seem a little worried.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on, Andrew. Tell me. What is it?”

“Really, it’s nothing. It’s actually good news. The medic mentioned the roads from Reno to Lake Tahoe are being cleared today. That usually means they’ll get to these lake access side roads later today or tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She smiled, but it was more of a polite smile than her bubbly ones. “So we’ll be able to get out of your hair soon.”

“Yes. Well no. You weren’t a bother. Especially not you.”

“Still, I’m sure you’d like to get back to your peace and quiet again. We’ve created so much chaos and disorder around your place.”

“It wasn’t so bad. And, I—I enjoyed getting to know you, Abby. A lot.”

She laced her hands around his waist again and held him, pressing her cheek into his chest. “Same here.”

He cupped her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “I wouldn’t have met you otherwise, I don’t think. I wish there was more time before you had to leave.”

She stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips softly. “There’s as much time as you and I want. And I’d like us to get to know each other better too.”

“So you—”

“Andrew, I’m kind of far away, but not too far. San Francisco is less than four hours from here. In good weather anyway.”

“So you…you’d…” he cleared his throat. “Would you like to go out with me sometime, Abigail Wittfield?”

“I would,” she answered cheerily. “I would love to.”

“Great.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips into hers, fiercely yearning for more of her—for all of her. He parted her lips and invaded her mouth with his tongue, taking her mouth in the way he wanted to possess her body but couldn’t. There wasn’t much time before the others would be up. He took what he could, and etched the sensations into his memories as he went.

“Abby,” he groaned into her mouth as he claimed her.

He felt her tiny hands tugging at the towel around his waist. “I want you now.”

“Do you think your friends may be up soon?”

“I don’t really care right now.” She wrapped her fingers over his cock. “I want as much of you as I can get before I have to leave.”

She slid her hand up his shaft, slowly and deliberately. Andrew closed his eyes and let her. He had to return the favor. He pried her hand from his member, took off her robe, and picked her up to deliver her into his shower. He stood in the path of the cold water until it warmed up, and moved behind her to let the water flow over her.

“So, where were we?” He wrapped his arms around her body from behind.

“Oh, I think I remember,” she answered, turning to resume her massage on his cock.

“Ahhhh.” He moaned. “Have I told you just how good you are at that?”

“Perhaps.”

He snaked his hand down her belly and found her slit. “I’ve been thinking. I could work on improving too. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“Mmmm. Not true. It’s you. It’s us. We’re perfect.”

He grinned, chin resting on her shoulder. His two fingers slid inside her slowly, pressing gently against her inner walls, while his thumb strummed on her clit. He kept the motion subtle, but let her know he was there. It became harder by the minute to focus while she so adeptly stroked and played on his shaft.

She rocked her hips and bent her knees, and he sensed she wanted to feel his fingers more deeply, or even better, his cock buried deep, bringing her the pleasure he hoped she would only ever know in future with him. Sliding his fingers out, he bent on one knee to meet her pussy head on. Sure she could no longer stroke his raging hard-on, but he knew what was coming next would make it all the more worthwhile.

He spread her legs and let his tongue find her clit as he reinserted his fingers and quickened their pace.

“Andrew, oh God.”

“Yes?”

“I—oh God.”

She may have forgotten what she wanted to say. Her legs seemed to weaken and buckle slightly as he continued to plunder her sweet, wet pussy. His fingers were doing wicked things to her insides and he doubted she cared about much else right now.

She shook her head. “Your fingers—”

He pulled his head back and looked up at her. “You mean these fingers?”

He withdrew them. She whimpered.

“Don’t stop, Andrew. Please don’t stop.”

Ducking his hand back down between her thighs, he slipped three fingers inside her this time, pumping the digits in and out of her slowly. He curved them and touched her G-spot, which made her legs tremble even more. He flicked again on her clit with his tongue, circling it as his palm nuzzled against the heat at her lower belly. He could hear her panting more quickly.

He picked up the pace and moved his fingers deeper inside her. Her hips rocked with fervor. She grabbed his hair and pulled. He wisely ignored her and kept up his licking and pumping. She was close. Very close.

He pulled his lips away from her clit again. “I’m not stopping until you come, Abby.”

She moaned and looked like she would sob at his words. Finally, she let go and came. Removing his fingers, he stood up and picked her up high with both arm. She wrapped her weakened legs loosely around his waist. He positioned himself and lowered her onto his swollen cock. He lifted her body slowly again, and lowered her again as he dipped inside her with long, strong strokes.

She clamped her hands on his shoulder when some energy returned. He picked up the pace and thrust into her once again. She tightened her legs around him and ground her pussy down on his cock, and he felt her climax climbing again. He sped up as he plunged into to her wildly. Her legs began to shake again, and she dug her nails down into his shoulders. With a final few thrusts, she welcomed him over the edge with her second climax. He was ready to let it go. He came inside her as her walls undulated through its orgasm. Slowly, he let her legs down, but held up most of her weight.

“Feeling good now?”

She nodded her head. “Better than good.”

“Perfect.” He hesitated as he caught his breath. He had to ask. “I know this is a very late post hoc question, but are you…”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “I haven’t been with another man for a long time. At least eighteen months. You?”

“Celibate for two years.”

“And yes, I’m on the pill. I’m clean, and you have nothing to worry about. And you are too. Right?”

“Yes. I’m clean. Not on the pill, though.”

“Funny guy.”

“Come on,” He kissed her hair. “Let’s have breakfast.”

They stepped out the shower and dried off.

“How about breakfast in bed? It doesn’t sound as if anyone’s up yet.”

“Oh, extra time in bed with you? That could be loads of fun. Sure. In that case, I’ll get breakfast. You relax.”

“No, no. I meant I’ll make you breakfast. My ankle’s fine now. And you’ve all been catering to me the whole time. Let me do this for you. I really want to, especially if it’s our last day or two. Please?”

“Sure. Thanks for the kind gesture.” He started walking to the door, but turned back. “Whatever you’re planning to make, can you make double?”

“Ooooo, getting demanding, aren’t you?” She teased.

“What? Oh, no, it’s not like that. I meant, I don’t think anyone was able to eat last night. It was too nerve-wracking. And I’m starved, so your friends must be too. Let’s go.”

She pulled back her towel and snapped it softly on his butt when he got to the door. “Now get that sexy ass back in bed before I tie you to it.”

He smiled and made it back to her in three quick strides, pulling her into his arms. “Playful are we? After we eat, I’ll let you, but only if you’ll let me tie you up first. But I’ll warn you. You may end up trading in your best night ever for it.”

“Sounds like a dare. I’m game.” She winked.

ABBY put on her robe, pulled up her towel-dried hair into a ponytail, and went to the kitchen. She opened the large double-door fridge in search of eggs, meat and vegetables. Omelets would be a good option for everyone. She pulled out eggs, ham, celery and red peppers, and set them on the counter before looking around for onions and garlic. She vaguely remembered someone mentioning a pantry. She tried the door beside the fridge.

The room was almost as large as the kitchen, with food packed neatly on open shelves along all four walls, and on two free-standing shelves in the middle. She loved cooking. A room like this would be a chef’s dream. The food inside could probably feed an army for days. Walking along the first aisle—it
did
feel like a little grocery store in there—she made a mental note of where items were. She would make lunch and dinner for everyone today.

She found the garlic and onions on a lower shelf in the far corner. They were placed inside labeled, hole-punched paper bags for longer storage. It was just like her mom used to do. That had been so long ago, she had almost forgotten about it. There were many little things Abby had tried to remember about her mom, but had forgotten. Like these hole-punched paper bags, they were probably just trapped in her memory, far behind the blurry cobwebs of time. She decided she would store her onions and garlic just like this when she got back to San Francisco.

She was setting them down on the counter when she felt Andrews arms reach around her waist.

“Hey,” she said, turning to him. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t help it. If you’re all leaving soon, I want to get as much of you as I can.”

“Fine.” She smiled and glowered at him. “But I’m still making you breakfast. You can sit over there.”

“Can I at least help you chop veggies?”

“Hmmm,” she murmured. “Okay. You get the garlic and onions.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” He got the cutting board and pulled the chopping knife to start dicing.

By the time she put the coffee maker on, filled the kettle, cracked the eggs and whipped them in the large bowl, he had finished cutting up all the vegetables and had placed them into separate bowls. His eyes were red and watery.

“Done already?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Are you doing alright over there?”

“I’m used to this. I cook most of my own meals, remember?”

“Right. I forgot.” 

“Except when the housekeeper comes.”

“Where’s a saucepan?”

“Bottom drawer to your left.”

She found the frying pan and placed in to heat up on the stove top. He leaned against the opposite counter and looked at her while she cooked.

“So what’s it like? Being out here alone?”

“Well, it’s quiet. Peaceful. A little lonely at times, but I enjoy the solitude most of the time. It’s—easier.”

“Easier than what?”

He hesitated before replying.  “Crowds. City life. Loud noises.”

Andrew was standing off to one side behind her, but Abby knew without looking directly at him that she had hit on an uncomfortable topic. He fidgeted where he stood, and his one hand instantly began to move along the scar on his forearm. She wanted to take some of the pressure off him.

“I think I know what you mean. When I first moved from our farm outside Sparks to San Francisco, I didn’t think I could ever get used to it. And it’s a beautiful city, but there was always that noise. Even at night. It’s like the city hums or something.”

“Yeah.”

She removed the first omelet. “Can you bring me a few plates?”

“Sure.”

“You should eat. Here, take the first one. I’ll make four all-veggie omelets and four more with ham. That should be enough for us and Ruth, Barb and Rob.”

“Sound great. Here are the plates. You can leave theirs on the back warmers.”

“Good idea. The coffee is probably ready too.”

“Awesome.” He pulled out two mugs and went over to the pot to pour them some.

“So where did you learn to cook?” Her focus was on the omelets, but she listened intently.

“My mom taught us. She wanted Joy and me—Joy’s my sister back in New York City—she wanted us to be self-sufficient.”

Andrew hadn’t mentioned anything about his mother before, and she wasn’t sure whether it was a touchy subject. “That’s great. She must love this kitchen and pantry.”

“Yes, she sure did. She designed this entire house. My dad had it built exactly how she wanted it.”

“Very nice. So does she come to visit you often?”

“No. My parents are divorced. Mom lives in Paris now. I haven’t seen her in years. The last time I heard from her was a couple years back. Since then, nothing.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear. I’m sure she misses you all.”

“Well if she does, she has a great way of showing it.”

Another touchy subject.
She didn’t notice any nervousness when he spoke that time, though; just a hint of sarcasm.

“So how about your dad? Does he come often? I guess he must, if he flies in to see you.”

His body relaxed completely. “Yeah. My dad stops in once or twice a month, sometimes more around year end. I help him with strategy for his companies. Although, he would say it’s
our
companies. He’s always hoped I would take it over after him, or play a more prominent role.”

“Cool. What kind of business is it?”

“We’re in retail. Department store chains and designer clothing, mostly. And a few high end footwear lines. There’s some real estate too.”

“So what’s your last name again? If I’ve been wearing your family’s designer clothing all this time, I’d want to know about it.”

She laughed, maybe a little more loudly than she normally would, just so he’d know she wasn’t too inquisitive.

“Carrington.”

“You mean
the
Carrington’s? Like that—”

“Yeah.
That
Carrington’s.”

“Ohhhh.”

“Yep.”

“Want another omelet?”

He nodded, and took the last bite on his plate while she brought him seconds. She moved the last ham omelet from the saucepan into the stack on the plate, and covered it up. All this cooking made her hungry. She took one of the vegetable omelets and went to sit beside Andrew at the table.

“Gosh, my mom loved to window-shop in your stores when I was little. There wasn’t much we could afford to buy there, though. They ran a small farm, and even if my parents could afford it, they would probably find a million reasons to get it at Target. We farmers have penny-pinching in our blood, I think.

“I remember when I worked my first summer job off the farm. I was a camp counselor. I must have been sixteen. I saved all my money that entire summer, and brought home an ipod and a pair of Gucci shoes. My mom had already passed away. But my dad balked, and wanted me to return it—specifically the shoes. I told him I was wearing it to my prom the following year. He said,
you’d better be wearing it more than once, for that price.
”

“And did you?”

“No actually. Worse. I went through a growth spell that fall. I grew three inches in eight months. I was tiny before that. And so were my feet. In the end, I couldn’t even wear those shoes to my graduation dance. I ended it up giving them to Becky—Rob’s sister.” 

“Ouch. That must have hurt.”

“It stung like hell. I was so jealous, watching her dance in my shoes, while I ended up with cheap suede knockoffs from the local shoe store.”

They ate quietly for a minute. It wasn’t uncomfortable at all. He seemed content, and she was famished.

He looked up from his coffee. “So do you miss her?”

“My mom? Gosh, yes. It was hard the first few years. I was fourteen. I wish I had her a little longer. Talking to my dad about things like graduation, and boys—well, let’s just say it was interesting. But it got easier. How about you?”

“Sure. She was a great mother. And so patient. I think she knew for a long time she would leave, in hindsight. She took time to painstakingly teach Joy and me things, and looking back, we took a lot of it for granted. But it all made sense when she left after Joy started college.”

“I can’t imagine. Is it tough, knowing she’s just a flight or two away and still not seeing her?”

“Sometimes. But I’ve put her out of my mind, for the most part. It doesn’t sound logical, does it?”

“Probably a little. I can’t judge. She probably had her reasons.”

“It’s hard to be logical about things like this. One the one hand, if she was unhappy, she made an incredible sacrifice for a long time. She stuck with us until we were both adults, before she left to find her own happiness. And she never complained, not once. How can I blame her for that? On the other hand, we’re her kids; her babies. She’s got to be missing us, probably more than we miss her. I figure she’ll come around when she’s ready, or reach out when she wants us to see her.”

Andrew wasn’t eating anymore. From Abby’s spot beside him, he seemed to gaze into the distance, like he was daydreaming. The fork he was eating was raised above the plate, like he had become frozen in the thought. She sat beside him and waited. He continued after a few moments.

“She was a great mother to us. Firm, fair, compassionate, and she loved us to bits. She was at the door when we left for school every day, and waiting in the same spot when we came home. She was our rock. She grounded us. With all the wealth and power she had access to, she never put any value in them. Money never meant much to her, and she wouldn’t let Joy and I get too spoiled—although if you meet Joy, you might think differently. My mother did a great job raising us. She made home a stable, caring place. And she was so proud when I chose the field of medicine.

“Maybe it would be more painful if we were younger. I don’t know. And yes, I wish she was closer so we could see her. But if she’s happy, I’m happy for her too.”

“That’s so—kind, and honest, Andrew. I can see she’s done a great job with you.”

Abby stacked their plates after he finished and took it to the sink. She rinsed them and placed them in the dishwasher.  Turning back to face him, she leaned against the counter.

“Did either of them remarry?”

“No. Well, I’m not sure about my mom, to be honest. My dad definitely hasn’t. He’s married to the businesses. And ever since she left, he’s been the rock. I never thought about it before, but she seemed to pass the parenting torch to him when she left. Before that, he was barely around. He traveled constantly, and was mentally absent when he
was
around. But when she left, he just found the time to be there, for anything, no, for everything that mattered. And he dotes on us kids, now, in his own way. You know those horrible flannel pajamas you all wore?”

“Yes?”

“That’s how he shows his affection; with me anyway. I get them for birthdays, Christmas, any excuse he can get, that’s what he gives me as gifts. If he had come to visit while you were all here, he’d be thrilled to see them being put to good use.”

She laughed and walked over to stand closer to him. “That’s so sweet.”

“Not if you hate sleeping in pajamas. But I know, it’s the thought that counts.”

“And what about your sister? Joy, right?  

“Oh, I think I’ll need a week to get into Joy’s story.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Not quite. She’s a pretty good kid. It’s just, well, I wouldn’t call her bad; I’d say she is unusually distasteful in the pursuit of her love interests. Let’s leave her for the moment. What I’ll say is she’s four years younger than me—I’m twenty-seven—and she lives with my dad in New York City.”

“Now I’m
really
curious.”

“Trust me. You don’t want to know. But if you really do, I’ll tell you later on.” He stood up in front of her and pulled her into his arms.

“Okay.”

“Right now,” he said softly in her ear, “I want to do less talking, and more touching.”

“Mmmm,” she moaned. “Sounds exciting. Let’s go back to your room.”

“I was thinking we could…” He looked over at the kitchen center island.

“You mean there?”

“You know, you’re starting to have the best ideas,” he said flirtatiously.

“What if my friends come in? Actually, forget I asked. Let’s do it.”