by L. M. Carr
“I forgot how well you played the drums. You’re really good.”
Andrew sits forward, sets the dish on the coffee table and rests his elbows on his knees, running both hands through his hair. “My parents wanted me to play the piano.”
“And you were quite the baseball player, huh?”
He shakes his head and furrows his eyebrows, a sense of confusion on his face. “Actually, I wasn’t. I played hockey.”
“Really? But I saw a picture of you in their office. You were standing in between your parents, holding a trophy.” I glance at his dark waves covering his head. “Your hair has gotten so much darker over the years. My nephew has hair like that. Every time I see him, he’s becoming a full-fledged ginger.”
Andrew angles his neck and scratches his jaw roughly before reiterating tersely, “I didn’t play ball.”
It seems as though I keep saying the wrong things.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask cautiously as the tip of my index finger reaches for my bottom lip, gliding back and forth, refreshing my memory of an intimate touch.
His eyes snap up to mine expectantly.
Nice Andrew sits before me so I ask the question that’s been plaguing me for days especially when Ogre Andrew appeared at work.
I drop my hand from my lip and turn to face him straight on. His beautiful blues wait expectantly for my inquiry. “Why’d you kiss me by the pool?”
The slightest lift of his cheek suggests he’s restraining a smile, but his reply is contradictory. With a quick clearing of his throat, Andrew replies wryly while shrugging casually, “I wanted to...” then immediately adding, “But don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”
He holds my eyes captive and I search desperately for any sign that his words are in vain. When I find none, panic rises in my heart at the thought of never tasting his lips again, of never having his tongue dance with mine, of never feeling his soft whisper on my skin. Eventually I look away, trying to mask the hurt and disappointment with a muffled chuckle that slips from my mouth.
“I wasn’t complaining,” I grin slyly. “You’re just hot one day and cold the next.”
His hand reaches back to massage the nape of his neck. Rolling his neck in a small circle before tilting it to the left and right, several dull cracks are heard. Andrew peeks over at me and grins. “So you think I’m hot?” he teases.
I roll my eyes and purse my lips dramatically. “Eh.” I shrug. “You’re okay.”
He laughs lightly and my core tightens at the sound. It’s a sound I don’t hear often enough.
“You’re...” he wrinkles his nose, “you’re okay, too. Even if you are a tomboy.”
His cell phone chirps and he glances at it quickly, but he doesn’t reply to the text message.
“Wow! Look at you, Andrew Darling.” Sarcasm drips from my words. “You sure know how to make a girl feel good! Your mom would be so prou—” Fuck! “There I go again...” I sigh sadly. “I think I should just stop talking.”
As if ignoring my last comment and the awkwardness floating in the air, Andrew simply states confidently, “I’ve never had a single complaint from any woman I’ve fucked.”
I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. “Eww! And just when I thought you were a decent guy, you go and prove me wrong.”
“I’m just saying...” he boasts as two hands fly up in the air defensively.
Grinning, I open then close my mouth. I wish there were words to counter his claim, but he’s right. Andrew is an expert at the art of seduction; his words alone brought that woman at the restaurant to the point of orgasm and again with me in the car. I know first-hand how masterful he is in the bedroom with that considerable dick. Never in my life have I experienced what I did in the few hours we joined our bodies. I remember the rhythmic pounding he’d given as if he were still playing the drums. Our drinking game had been interrupted when someone handed him a pair of drumsticks.
I smile at the memory of watching him rip off his T-shirt and tap a drum set with precision. Determination displayed on his face as he lost himself in the beat, the sticks an extension of his hands. Those same hands that later undressed and spread me for his pleasure.
Feeling goose bumps line my skin, I rub my arms gently, remembering how my body felt beneath his. Euphoric. Sated. Exhausted.
Thinking back now, the party Andrew threw was reckless and careless with cars parked all over the lawn, beer bottles tossed everywhere and a band playing into the early morning hours until the police showed up and shut the party down. It seemed like it was a “Fuck you” party to his parents.
I exhale quietly and peer at him with an amused expression on my face. “I have to tell you...I like this Andrew much better than the other one. He’s not very nice.”
“He’s—” Andrew murmurs, “kind of pissed at the world right now. Cut him a little slack.”
I nod and smile before taking a bite of pizza.
“Can I ask you a question?” Andrew’s voice pulls me away from my private thoughts and transports me back to the here and now.
A bundle of nerves forms and settles in the pit of my belly. I have no idea what he might ask, but I respond in the affirmation with a simple tip of my head. I take a final sip of my soda and wait.
“Why didn’t you let me fuck you in Vegas?”
A spray of dark liquid shoots from my mouth onto the hardwood floor. “What?”
“In Vegas, why didn’t you let m—”
“I heard you the first time!” I wipe my chin with the back of my hand. “Sheesh! No beating around the bush with you, huh?”
“I can beat the bush if you’d like.” His eyes shine with humor as he lifts the clear plastic bottle to his lips then tips it, filling his mouth with water. My eyes drop to his Adam’s apple when he swallows the huge gulp.
Maintaining eye contact, I chuckle at his words. “You are something else, Andrew Darling. Do you remember Crystal?”
His eyebrows furrow as he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and castigates me. “No and you didn’t answer my question.”
“Of course you don’t. She’s part of the reason, but besides that you already know why,” I retort with frustration in my voice and pity in my eyes.
Heckling with admonition, he shakes his head. “They would’ve still been dead whether we fucked or not. It wouldn’t have changed anything,” he counters harshly.
“It would’ve changed everything!”
“But I fucked you before and nothing changed. You went your way and I went mine.”
I remember all too well I think to myself. “Could you please stop saying that? You make it sound so cheap and dirty. Like I was some hooker you paid to have sex with you.”
“I don’t pay for sex,” he counters harshly.
“Really?” I tilt my head and glare at him.
His lips remain perfectly still until he drags his hand across his face. “I remember now.”
“And for the record, the first time I slept with you, I was in a weird place. I don’t go around sleeping with random guys! I’d never had a one-night stand before...or after,” I confess quietly.
“That was quite a night,” he says quietly.
I stand, stomp my way into the bathroom and slam the door shut. Looking at myself in the mirror, I notice my cheeks are flushed and my eyes anxious. I hate that I’m letting him affect me this way. He’s nothing to me. We’re nothing to each other. When I return to the living room, I lean against the door frame and watch quietly as Andrew scrolls through his phone.
“I don’t get you,” I say, grabbing his attention away from the device. “When I said earlier that you’re hot then cold, I wasn’t referring to your...” I drag my eyes over his body. “We were having a nice normal conversation and you had to make it awkward by bringing up a situation that we shouldn’t have put ourselves in.”
Walking into the living room, I deliberately choose to sit on the adjacent chair so I can concentrate. Lines have to be drawn and
serious conversations have to be had, but the proximity between us clouds my brain and clearly my judgment. I need to find a way to rein in my attraction to him if we’re going to work together on a daily basis.
Andrew’s eyebrows furrow when he notices the distance between us. “Why’d you sit over there?”
I look at him pointedly.
A deep sigh expels from his chest. “I thought you wanted us to be friends. Or are we strictly business partners?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” My voice sounds strong and confident while my heart beats frantically in my chest.
“I think,” he says with some trepidation, “I think I’d like to be both if that’s okay.” A genuine smile spreads across his handsome face. “I actually like hanging out with you and I kind of need to learn a few things about advertising, so...”
“Friends. Partners. I can do that,” I agree, letting the words of affirmation linger in the air. “Friends look out for each other. You know that, right?”
Andrew confirms with a nod.
“I was worried about you the other day. Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?”
His honesty floors me. “I was pissed off and I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“You realize I’m not your enemy, right? I didn’t ask to be named in their will,” I say as I sit on the couch beside him.
“It’s not about the will.”
His comment surprises me. I can’t think of another reason to be upset with me.
“We have a company to run and we may not always agree, but I think we’ll need to talk things through and sometimes even compromise.” I purse my lips, cock an eyebrow and whisper one word, “Keurig.”
After responding to a text message, Andrew sets his phone down and glances over at me.
“Could you try to not be such an ogre at work? These are good people. Your parents really cared about each and every one of them. You want to be involved in the day to day routine of the company? Great. Start by getting to know your employees and showing them a little kindness.”
“I’ve never really run a business before.”
“Didn’t you go to work with your dad when you were a kid?”
Andrew cringes. “No.”
“Your parents ran their company like a family.”
“God, I hope that’s not true,” he retorts, shaking his head.
“I’m not sure why you’d say that. Your mom and dad were wonderful, loving and generous people.”
Looking at me somberly, he replies, “You weren’t their son.”
I’m left scratching my head at his comment and a million scenarios swirl around my brain while I try desperately to decipher exactly what he meant.
♦♦♦
Every day at work, Andrew wheels his leather chair into my office and sits beside me so I can teach him some of the basics about the program I use for designing. His hand grazes against mine when we both point to a line on the logo. He makes suggestions, and I smile. Working so closely to him, his scent, his skin, his eyes, messes with my head.
“Seems easy enough,” he says on Friday afternoon, lifting a shoulder to display his confident thoughts.
“You may be smart and all, but you’re no computer whiz,” I shoot back with a smile.
I grab a folder and open it.
“Wanna try this one?”
Andrew opens the folder, his eyes perusing over the design I’d sketched last week.
“It’s an easy one, pretty straight forward. They just want something clean and bold.”
He studies it.
“See how these two lines run parallel, traveling side by side?” I glide my finger along the page. “You think their paths are never going to cross until right here.” I point to the sheet then look at him. I swallow thickly at the intensity in his gaze. “Finally they meet.”
Drawn in by his searing look, I find my eyes are locked on his mouth before dragging them upward once again. Involuntarily, my head tips and my tongue glides out to moisten my lips, ghosting them mere millimeters away from his.
Placing his hands on my thighs, Andrew wheels my leather chair closer to his. His knees part my legs. My heart thunders in my ears. Time ticks by as we stare at one another until his hand rises and cups the nape of my neck, bringing me closer. Andrew touches my lips with his then pulls back slightly. The kiss is gentle and hesitant as if he’s having a sample before taking more.
When my body responds with hardened nipples and a pulsating core, my hands mirror his, pulling his face back to mine. Given permission to continue, Andrew takes more.
Mouths open, tongues merge into a sensual dance for two. His large hands move from my neck to the front of my shirt and gently massage my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. Each squeeze sends a direct signal to my clit and I scramble out of my chair to sit on my desk.
Wedged between my open thighs, Andrew presses his length into me while devouring my mouth.
“I want you,” he murmurs against my neck where his kisses blaze a hot trail. “Do you hear me? I want you.”
“Knock, knock,” Cara interrupts the heated moment. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry,” she stammers. “I’ll just come back later.” She giggles nervously. “You two can finish up.”
Reality slaps me in the face and I push Andrew away, leaving him breathless with desire seeping from his pores as I stand.
“Doesn’t she know how to fucking knock?” Andrew barks.
“Cara,” I call after her, but halt my steps when I realize my shirt is unbuttoned.
I step back into my office and close the door, pressing my back into the barrier.
“Andrew...that cannot happen again.” I pin him with stern eyes. “This is a place of business.”
With a forceful step, Andrew strides over to me. “We can mix business and pleasure, don’t you think?” he asks, sliding his hands around my waist and burying his nose in my neck yet again.
I grab the tufts at the back of his head and yank back as a smile spreads across my face.
“We need to be professional around here.”
“Friends and partners.”
“I’m serious!”
With twisted lips displaying his disappointment, Andrew nods and pushes away before exiting my office.
♦♦♦
A knock on my door reveals Andrew standing there with Chinese takeout.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Not having sex with you!” I laugh.
“Damn,” he laughs, “I was hoping to finish what we started.”
My lips form a tight line and I shake my head. “Yeah, sorry buddy, not happening. I’m chalking that one up to a momentary lapse in judgment.”
Andrew clutches his chest as if my words have wounded him. “Ouch, but it was worth a shot.”
I realize I’m smiling as Playful Andrew materializes.
“Well, since you won’t have sex with me, how about we go to a movie or catch a band somewhere? I could really use a diversion and get away from this place for a little while.”
“Together?” I shriek. “Why would we do that?”
“Because you’re living in my pool house, we have a business to run together...and we’re friends. Isn’t that something friends would do?”
I offer a hard side-eye, wondering what his real motive is.
“Can I be honest with you?” I implore, rubbing my hands over my face before smoothing my hair back. “I’m really tired. It’s been a few long and emotionally draining weeks. This new guy started working at the company recently and he’s a real pain in the ass. So demanding.” I crack a smile.
Andrew stands quickly and picks up his cell phone from the couch cushion. “No problem,” he scoffs, “I’ll let you get some rest then.”
Feeling as though I’ve offended him, I jump to my feet and block his path, my hand rising involuntarily to his chest. I look up with eager but hesitant eyes. “Don’t leave. I was going to suggest watching a movie here.” A weak smile tips my li
ps into a smirk. “And I doubt there are any good bands playing tonight. This isn’t Denver, you know.”
Several moments tick by while his eyes search my face then drop to my hand still on his chest. After looking around, he draws his attention back to me.
“What?” I ask, slowly removing my hand as embarrassment flushes my cheeks pink.
Motioning with his chin, Andrew points to the vacant spot above the fireplace where a television should be. Realization dawns on me at the same moment, and I force a whispered confession through my lips. “The T.V. is in my bedroom.”
Waggling his eyebrows playfully with a wide grin on his face, Andrew suggests I lead the way.
“This isn’t an invitation for anything else, mister!” I point upward at his roguish smile.
“I will be a perfect gentleman,” he utters darkly.
“Somehow I don’t believe you,” I laugh. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable,” I say as I begin to unbutton my shirt.
Andrew follows me into my bedroom and kicks off his worn leather flip flops. I, however, make a beeline for the bathroom so I can change into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized Lake George sweatshirt. What I really want to do, aside from straddling his lap and riding him off into the sunset, is to unclasp my bra and let my girls hang free, but knowing Andrew will be feet away, that isn’t an option.
My hair is piled high on top of my head and my glasses are on my face when I emerge from the bathroom.
“You look very...comfortable,” he comments, sizing up my appearance.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I narrow my eyes and place my hands on my hips.
“Usually when a woman tells me she’s slipping into something more comfortable, it usually means less clothing—not more.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not—”
A crackle of laughter interrupts my angry rant.
“Morgan, I’m just messing with you. You look cute...in a nerdy kinda way.”
“Top 2% in my class! Thank you very much!” I boast, plopping myself onto the bed beside him which causes his manly scent to infiltrate my nose. I inhale, savoring the hint of cologne.
Noticing how relaxed Andrew looks on my bed, I turn away, smiling inwardly as I reach over to the night stand and grab the remote.
