Chapter 78

As the last of the dishes were cleared and the soft music faded into a comforting hum, a cozy stillness settled over the penthouse. Golden sunlight spilled across the floor in long streaks, making everything feel softer, warmer, like the day itself was in no rush to move on.

Ashley stretched with a sigh, her fingers brushing Megan’s knee. “As much as I could nap right here forever…”

Megan chuckled and leaned into her. “We probably should head back. We came over here smelling like wine and garlic bread. I can’t even imagine what our hair smells like.”

“Delicious,” Abigail teased, leaning against the kitchen counter with her glass of sparkling cider in hand.

Emma, perched on one of the barstools, gave a sleepy smile. “We’re ordering burgers and fries in a bit. Probably around 1:30. If you want to come back, we’ll be horizontal on the couch with fry grease on our fingers.”

Abigail grinned. “And I have a full bar that I absolutely need help drinking.”

Ashley raised her brows. “Now that is a proper invitation.”

Megan stood, stretching out her arms with a playful yawn. “Alright, we’ll go shower, reset, maybe change into something that doesn’t smell like midnight pasta. But we just might show up again.”

Emma tilted her head, still smiling. “We’ll leave the door open around 1. Just come in when you get back.”

Ashley blinked, then smirked. “Open-door policy? We really are neighbors now.”

Abigail gave a lazy wave. “Mi casa es su penthouse.”

As Megan and Ashley made their way to the door, Ashley glanced back. “Tell those fries to be ready for a rematch.”

Emma laughed. “Only if you’re bringing extra dipping sauce.”

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving a soft, quiet glow in their wake. Emma turned to Abigail, chin propped on her hand.

“I really like them,” she murmured.

Abigail leaned over, kissed her cheek, and smiled. “Me too.”

Emma grinned. “Now let’s find the messiest burgers and biggest fries on the menu.”

Abigail smirked. “You’re speaking my love language.”

The soft echo of the front door closing behind Megan and Ashley left the penthouse in a rare hush. For a moment, Emma and Abigail just stood there—soaking in the stillness, the afterglow of good company, and the delicious scent of herbs and candle wax lingering in the air.

Then Emma let out a sigh that was half contentment, half exhaustion. “Alright, operation clean-up begins.”

Abigail laughed, already moving toward the table. “We threw a whole dinner party last night and hosted brunch this morning. I think we’re officially grown-ups.”

Emma gathered a few empty glasses. “Only if grown-ups are allowed to eat fries on the couch in pajamas.”

“Then yes, fully grown,” Abigail agreed, stacking plates with practiced ease.

They moved in tandem—clearing the dishes, wiping down countertops, fluffing throw pillows. It wasn’t rushed. There was music playing again, something upbeat and a little jazzy, and every so often one of them would dance a little with a plate in hand or sneak a kiss between trips to the kitchen.

It didn’t take long. Their home was already more warm than messy, just little signs of a good night—a napkin here, a stray throw blanket there, the faint trace of laughter still hanging in the air.

When the last of the kitchen was wiped down and the dishwasher hummed to life, Abigail stretched and looked around with satisfaction. “Okay. Not bad. I think we’ve earned a shower.”

Emma grinned. “Separately or…?”

Abigail arched a brow. “We’re supposed to be resetting, remember?”

Emma walked past her slowly, brushing her fingers along Abigail’s arm. “I said nothing about behaving.”

Abigail laughed, following her toward the hallway. “You are dangerously persuasive for someone who still smells like garlic.”

They stepped into the bathroom together, the warm light reflecting off the marble tiles and glass. Emma reached for her hair tie, catching Abigail’s gaze in the mirror. “I can’t believe how much happened in just a day.”

Abigail wrapped her arms around her from behind, resting her chin on Emma’s shoulder. “It’s been one hell of a weekend.”

Emma leaned into her with a smile. “And it’s not over yet.”

They shared a soft kiss—quick, familiar, full of promise—before stepping into the steam, ready to reset and refresh for the next part of the day.

The bathroom filled with the soft hiss of water as steam curled up the mirror and glass walls. Emma stepped in first, tilting her head back beneath the warm spray with a blissful sigh. Abigail followed, pulling the glass door closed behind them.

“I swear,” Emma murmured, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”

Abigail wrapped her arms around her waist from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “Mine too. Especially when you look like that.”

Emma peeked over her shoulder, water dripping from her lashes. “Like what?”

“Like someone who knows they’re beautiful without even trying.” Abigail’s voice was a low hum, her fingers tracing gentle paths down Emma’s arms.

Emma rolled her eyes playfully but blushed anyway. “You’re biased.”

“Absolutely,” Abigail said, “and proudly so.”

They stood there for a moment, just breathing in the warmth and closeness, their bodies fitting like puzzle pieces under the water. Abigail lathered shampoo into Emma’s curls with slow, careful hands, massaging her scalp until Emma practically melted against her.

“You’re going to make me fall asleep,” Emma murmured dreamily.

“Not on my watch,” Abigail whispered back, placing a kiss just behind her ear that made Emma shiver.

Emma turned in her arms then, eyes sparkling despite the haze of steam. “You’re not going to behave, are you?”

Abigail smirked, brushing a wet strand of hair from Emma’s face. “Absolutely not.”

They leaned in again, foreheads touching, the moment quiet and grounding. Water beaded on their skin, mixing with soap and affection, every touch unhurried.

Emma cupped Abigail’s face. “You always make me feel like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.”

“That’s because you are,” Abigail said simply.

Emma looped her arms around Abigail’s neck, fingers playing with the damp hair at her nape. “Take me to bed,” she murmured, eyes hooded and heated. “Give me everything.”

Abigail’s lips curved against Emma’s in a promise of a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

She turned off the taps, helping Emma step out on wobbly legs. Abigail wrapped her in a fluffy towel, rubbing Emma down with slow, thorough touches that left her shivering. Emma was practically boneless by the time Abigail scooped her up in strong arms.

“Warn a girl,” Emma said breathlessly as Abigail carried her into the bedroom.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Abigail quipped, laying her gently on crisp sheets that smelled like lavender.

Emma stretched out with a hum of satisfaction, back arching sinuously as she watched Abigail strip off her own towel. “My. God.”

Abigail grinned, unembarrassed by Emma’s appreciative once-over. “Like what you see?”

“Very much,” Emma breathed. “Now come here and show me.”

Abigail climbed onto the bed, crawling up Emma’s body with intent. She mapped a path of open-mouthed kisses up Emma’s thigh, over her hip, pausing to adore the curve of her waist. Emma tangled her fingers in Abigail’s hair, guiding her lower again with a needy whimper.

Abigail obliged, parting Emma’s legs and running her tongue along slick folds. Emma keened, back bowing off the mattress. “Abby…”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Abigail soothed, lapping at Emma’s clit. She worked her in with lips and tongue and clever fingers, coaxing Emma higher and higher until she was writhing, a litany of curses and pleas spilling from her lips.

Just before she crested, Abigail pulled back, ignoring Emma’s bereft wail. cock hard and heavy between her thighs. Emma’s eyes fluttered open, glassy with want.

“Please,” she rasped, opening her arms. “Need you.”

Abigail shuddered, tracing Emma’s entrance with the tip of her cock. “You have me, Em. Always.”

She pushed in with one long, slow thrust, crooking a grin at Emma’s guttural moan. Then Abigail started to move, finding a deep, driving rhythm that had Emma arching to meet every thrust. They moved together like they were made for it, sweating skin sliding against skin, breathy moans and gasps filling the room.

Abigail hooked Emma’s knees over her elbows, spreading her wider, hitting that perfect spot inside that made stars burst behind Emma’s eyes. She raked her nails down Abigail’s back, urging her deeper, harder.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Abigail gritted out, angling to hit that spot again. Emma keened, clenching tight around her.

“Close,” Emma panted. “Abby, I’m gonna…”