by L. M. Carr
“Women,” I huff. “I’m supposed to hang out with my friend Toni and her new girlfriend.”
“This Toni...is she hot? How about her girl?”
“What?” I screech and let go of my hair, allowing it to fall in soft waves. “I don’t know! I don’t go around judging other women!” Baffled, I ask, “Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because two girls together is hot.”
I jump to my feet and slap his arm when he begins to laugh at my discomfort. “You are disgusting! I’m sure your mother would be proud,” I screech with sarcasm. “Get out!”
A moment of awkward silence passes as we stare at each other. I swallow down the unexpected flutter in my core.
“I’ll go, but you’re going to have to let go of my arm first.”
My eyes flash to his bicep, and I release my tight grasp immediately. “I don’t remember your arms being this big.”
“What did you say?” he teases, knowing he’s heard me correctly.
Flustered, I clarify my comment. “I’m just saying I don’t recall your arms being that big when you ran out of the room butt naked to confront me in your parents’ kitchen last night.” My attempt to embarrass him fails miserably because while fighting a smile of his own, Andrew cocks his head to one side and captures my eyes, holding me hostage with those gorgeous blues. “You didn’t seem to be paying that much attention to my arms last night.”
My eyes constrict and my lips purse. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“If you play your cards right tonight, you could be full of me too,” he quips with a waggle of his brows.
“Andrew Darling! Ewwww! You’re an egocentric, narcissistic, arrogant dick!”
“So I’ve been told. Guess I take after my father.” His laughter is light yet edgy.
“No way! You are nothing like Mark. He’s wonderful! He’s —” A genuine smile appears on my face when I think about how generous my employer has been. From the first day I stepped foot into the office building, Mark has been a father figure to me, often referring to me as the daughter he always wanted but never had.
Andrew pauses and gazes at me as deep vertical lines form above his nose. He looks as though he’s just bitten into an extremely sour lemon.
“Are you fucking around with my old man?” he asks in disgust, horror distorting his face.
“What? Oh my God! Eww, no!! That’s not what I meant! Your dad is kind and generous.” I smile before continuing, “...he’s thoughtful and giving and...”
The deep lines smooth out, giving way to a bright, mischievous smile. “Oh sweetheart, I’m giving. Just ask what’s her name from last night.”
Annoyance and anger bubble deep within me and I holler, “PIG! Get out!” I force him to turn around, but Andrew’s laughter fills the small space of the living room. My mood is souring by the second and it reinforces even more that I want him gone this instant. With my palms flat against his back, I push and usher him out of my home although his resistance requires little effort. Just when I think I’ve succeeded, I feel the muscles in his back flex. His arms rise simultaneously as he extends them to reach for the door frame, halting the movement entirely. My legs stop, but my forward motion does not and I face-plant right into his back. I continue forward until my nose is buried in the soft cotton of his T-shirt. I inhale and immediately regret it because my insides turn to mush and my legs to jelly, causing my fingers to grip the soft material tightly, preventing my collapse to the hardwood floor.
The delectable scent of his skin through the material is a heady combination and desire rips through my entire being in a split second. I’ve had him once, yet it is clear once won’t be enough.
Andrew turns around slowly and looks down. Why my hands are now on the front of his vintage Eagles concert T-shirt while my fingers clutch his chest is a mystery to me. It’s obvious, judging by the expression on his face, we share a common desire and attraction. The strong hands I admired a mere twenty-four hours earlier skate around to my waist and pull me flush against his abdomen.
My heartbeat quickens, and I moisten my lips with a quick swipe of my tongue.
“What are you doing?” I whisper when he lowers his face to mine. I wait with anticipation as his hands move closer to the small of my back. His luscious lips are millimeters away and I close my eyes, waiting for the moment his lips touch mine.
Seconds drag on, feeling more like years.
The faintest hint of a moan erupts from his throat and I am consumed with desire. Tilting my head, I move past the point of no return and I feel his lips graze against mine, moving leisurely until he reaches my flushed cheek.
“I’ll take these,” Andrew whispers gruffly in my ear as the contact to my backside dissipates.
“What?!” I open my eyes and encounter his smiling face along with the bag of M&Ms in his hand. “Give me those! Those are my M&Ms!”
Raising the bag high above his head, Andrew unravels it and removes a few pieces of chocolate covered peanut goodness then pops them into his mouth. “Want some?”
I grit my teeth and look around for something to hit him with when I realize his vulnerability is exposed right in front of me. Quickly, I pinch the vertical line of hair running along his abdomen and twist, forcing him to yelp.
“Give me the M&Ms and I’ll stop,” I demand menacingly, suppressing amusement as I hold my palm out.
Wide eyes surrender immediately. “Fuck! Alright, alright!” Andrew places the bag in my hand and raises his hands in the air, admitting defeat.
I twist the hair for good measure before letting go. “Don’t take what isn’t yours!”
CHAPTER THREE
“Knock, knock,” Andrew calls as he enters the front door uninvited.
“C’mon! Andrew!” I freeze and grip the towel around my body.
“What?” he asks genuinely intrigued, dropping his gaze to my cleavage peeking out from the bright yellow cotton.
I point to the open door and stomp my foot. “Seriously, were you dropped on your head as a baby?”
He continues to venture into my kitchen and grabs a Granny Smith apple. He takes a huge bite and replies with a mouthful, “I don’t think so, but you can ask my mother the next time you talk to her. Almost ready to go?”
“Go where?”
He takes another bite and juices dribble, forcing him to slurp with his tongue and lips. I cross my legs and squeeze to quell my body’s response to his presence.
“To the beach. Remember I asked you earlier? Or were you dropped on your head as a baby?” He grins as he tosses my words back at me.
I consider lying and telling him that I’ve got plans, but since Toni cancelled on me, there is no point.
Sighing heavily as if going to a party with him is a huge inconvenience, I roll my eyes and groan. “I’ll go on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You have to feed the felines. I can’t set foot in that house again unless I take Benadryl. And Benadryl and I don’t always get along. It usually wins out.”
“Deal.”
While in my room dressing, I catch a glimpse of Andrew walking out of the garage carrying a golf club and a wire basket filled with white balls. He looks freshly showered wearing a Denver Broncos T-shirt and khaki shorts. At the edge of the property, he finally stops, sets up a tee and secures a ball. Adjusting his long legs, he widens his stance, tucks his head and swings, propelling the golf ball into the air and down the steep embankment. What seems like hundreds of balls soar through the air until he notes the time on his phone and wanders in the direction of the pool house.
After rushing to the door, I turn the lock then stand with my back against it before he has the opportunity to walk right in. The laughter I’d been holding in shoots forth in a groan when I hear a key being inserted into the lock.
I fling the door open and yell at him. “Stop acting like you own the place!”
His crooked smile is infectious.
“Ugh! When did you sa
y you’re leaving?” I ask then mumble, “Not soon enough” under my breath. I close the door behind me and follow him to the garage. Tapping a code on the keypad, all four doors open, revealing several shiny vehicles and one tucked away, hidden beneath a blanket of black material.
“What should we take?” he asks, motioning to the cars. “I haven’t driven this one in a while.” He states, pointing to a sleek Mercedes. “Or this one.” He walks over to the bright yellow Hummer and glides his fingers over the hood.
Feeling as though we’re doing something wrong, I offer an alternative. “I don’t mind driving my Acura. It’s not as fancy as these cars, but it’s paid off and it’s mine.”
Ignoring me entirely, Andrew walks to the far end of the garage and lifts the black material, taking a quick peek. “What have we got here?” He grabs the corner and suddenly whips off the blanket, revealing a stunning 1966 candy apple red Mustang convertible in absolute mint condition. “Hello, sweetheart.” He whistles in appreciation. “You are mine tonight.”
My eyes dart to find his, but his attention is laser focused on the car with a classic license plate.
“Andrew, your dad just got that. I really don’t think you should drive it without talking to him first.”
Grinning salaciously while moving slowly, Andrew motions with his chin to the interior of the vintage vehicle then opens the passenger door for me. I hesitate but eventually lower myself onto the soft leather when he gestures with his hand in a gentlemanlike fashion and smiles.
Whispering as he closes the door, I hear him. “C’est une belle nuit pour une balade.”
Once the seat is adjusted to accommodate his height, I glance over and smile.
“What does that mean and where’d you learn to speak French?” I inquire, wondering about the time he must have spent perfecting his accent. I can only imagine the years of studying, the hard work and intense linguistic training to become so fluent. Perhaps he’d spent several semesters abroad studying the French culture while backpacking through the medieval villages or maybe he traveled to Paris to meet up with friends.
Turning his head, Andrew’s eyes shine with humor. “Do you speak French?” he asks with a sly smile.
“No,” I reply regretfully, wishing I had paid more attention in college. “Did you major in French in college? Go to France?”
Pulling his eyes away from mine, his fingertips caress the steering wheel, letting it glide between his hands. Watching his every move, I swallow hard when his grip tightens around the helm and he whispers softly in the foreign language.
Astonished, I listen to his quiet ramblings of seduction as the purr of the engine comes to life. “What does that mean?”
Andrew shifts in his seat and faces me as he brings his hands up to tuck the loose strands behind my ear. Magnificent blue eyes framed by perfect eyebrows and long eyelashes bore into mine. I blink several times, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze until finally his luscious lips produce a choreographed symphony of melodic words in a language so romantic, so beautiful, so hypnotic. As each utterance emerges and infiltrates my ears, my sex tightens and moistens. Enthralled by the sound of his voice, I nod subtly and silently vow to do whatever he commands or go wherever he directs.
My eyelids flutter before closing. I inhale sharply when his fingertips slowly graze the skin just below my earlobe then trail across my bottom lip.
“Oh God. That’s so sexy,” I murmur. Opening my eyes quickly, I nervously realize I have spoken the words aloud. I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment and I pull my eyes away.
A victorious grin, one of satisfaction, slides across his face because he knows he’s got me right where he wants me.
Wet, willing and ready.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” I am not certain if my question is referring to his acquisition and use of a foreign language or his incredible ability to almost make me come simply by whispering a few spoken words.
“My father is actually fluent in several languages and I studied abroad then backpacked across Europe during my gap year,” he says, shifting the car into gear and looking over his right shoulder to back out onto the driveway.
Crossing my legs, I pray the dampness between my thighs has not soiled the seat. “Gap year?” I ask as Andrew lowers the convertible top, revealing a picturesque dark night sky filled with a million stars.
As Andrew steps out of the car to close the garage doors, he calls back, “You know, the year before you become an adult.” Light laughter is added to his words and I groan internally wondering if he’s ridiculing me for my near orgasm.
“Must be nice,” I reply upon his return. “Some of us didn’t have that luxury.”
Andrew revs the engine and a plume of smoke rises from the heated back tires.
“Easy!” I reprimand.
He chuckles. “She can handle it.”
“That’s not the point! She isn’t your car so handle her with care.”
Andrew glances at me and licks his lips. “So if she were mine, I could do whatever I want? Treat her any way I desire? Have my wicked way with her?”
Biting back another round of snarky replies, I simply close my eyes and shake my head, groaning quietly. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
♦♦♦
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in!” a man’s voice calls as Andrew leads me around the back of a beach house to where a huge fire pit roars and embers dance, floating in the air.
“What’s up, Twinkle Toes!” Andrew retorts, offering a clasped hand and a shoulder bump to a man about his same size. “How’ve you been, man?”
“Life is good. Married life is even better. When are you taking the plunge?”
“Never if I can help it!” Andrew laughs, looking around at the other people gathered for the night.
“Hey, I’m Rob. Welcome! Apparently my friend here forgot his manners.” Rob extends a hand in greeting.
“Morgan.” I return the hearty handshake with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Rob looks down at our clasped hands. “Strong grip. I like that.”
Embarrassed, I shrug and look away briefly before returning my attention to him. “My dad believes eye contact and a firm handshake will get you far in life.”
A wide grin spreads across Rob’s face. “You’re gonna be the one to settle him down.”
Andrew and I look at each other dubiously.
My response is swift and curt. “Uh, no thanks. Not interested in the job.”
Rob snickers, leaning in to whisper to Andrew, “I like this girl. She might be the one.”
“Shut the fuck up, man!” Andrew snorts, countering with a sense of annoyance. “Where’s that pretty little wife of yours? I owe her a kiss.”
“Kiss my ass, bro!”
Needing to remove myself from the awkward situation and ward off the inexplicable feeling of jealousy at the idea of Andrew kissing someone, I hitch my thumb in the direction of the bar. “I’m going to get a drink. Want something?”
“I’ll go with you,” Andrew remarks after telling Rob he’ll catch up with him in a few.
“I don’t need you to hold my hand to get a drink.” I turn away, but he’s by my side in a split second.
“Don’t worry...I wasn’t going to hold your hand anyway,” he teases, whispering in my ear. “I usually go for the wrist.”
I swat him away. “You’re like a nine-year-old.”
He laughs.
“How old are you anyway?” I ask.
“Thirty-three.”
“You’re such a liar!” I answer back, grabbing a can of Coke.
“How old are you?” he retorts while reaching for a bottle of beer and a bottle of water.
“None of your business!”
“Andrew Darling, there you are!” a pregnant woman waddles over and tosses her arms up into the air.
“Emma! Hey babe!” Andrew returns the embrace. “Holy shit. You’re huge!”
I cover my mo
uth to hide my laughter.
The petite redhead’s jaw drops open. “What?! Only because I’ve known you forever and you’re gorgeous, I’ll forgive you for that dickhead comment.”
“Sorry! I mean, you look incredible...just big.”
Emma turns to me and scowls. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”
“Luckily, I don’t,” I reply quickly and shoot him a hard side-eye.
Andrew finds his manners and makes formal introductions.
“So you work for Mark and Diana?”
I nod enthusiastically.
“I love them! They’re the best!” Emma sighs then chuckles. “I wish Diana were my mother-in-law instead of the monster I ended up with.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty great. They’re in Vegas for the long weekend. They’re so spontaneous and adventurous. They’re taking a helicopter ride around Vegas tonight at sunset and then having dinner near the Grand Canyon.”
“Sounds romantic,” she adds, clutching her petite hands to her chest.
“Sounds cliché,” Andrew comments dryly as a scowl emerges.
“Oh man! I have to pee...again,” Emma grumbles, excusing herself to use the restroom. Apparently the two babies she’s carrying like to play footsies against her bladder.
An hour turns into two then three with food, drinks and fireworks just as Andrew promised. What I did not anticipate were the subtle interjections of French seemingly at my expense as if he were enjoying a private joke with himself.
I kick off my flip-flops, carrying them in one hand as I cradle a beer in the other and walk along the shore. Small waves crash against my feet. I stop and stare at the water, wondering what lies just beyond the dark horizon. My thoughts, like a pendulum, swing back and forth as the tide continues to ebb and flow. I sigh heavily and wonder where I would be tonight if I hadn’t made the decision to leave my husband. Probably at home alone.
“Want one?” Andrew extends his arm, handing something over as he comes down to the water’s edge and stands beside me. I glance over and notice the Good Humor Toasted Almond ice cream bar. I laugh when he bites into it and moans his delight. “So sweet and creamy.” Again he presents the second bar, but I decline his offer with a chuckle.
