by K. A. Linde
“I know. But I think I have everything I need. I hired an event planner for the occasion, and we just have to make it happen.”
“You will. I know it.”
He pulled off the main road, wove through a few back neighborhoods, and then stopped in front of a historic brick townhouse.
“What’s this?” Andrea asked.
“Just something I’m looking into. I thought, since I finally had some time off, I could take you with me to come look at it.”
“You’re thinking of moving?” she asked. Andrea cautiously exited the car.
“Something like that,” he muttered.
She stilled. She had a half-smile on her face, but there was clearly something wrong. “What? Looking for a new bachelor pad?”
The joke was there, but it was riddled with underlying truth. “Why don’t you take a look inside?”
“What’s wrong with your other place?”
“Besides the fact that you won’t step foot in it?” he countered, walking around the car to her.
And she hadn’t. Not one foot. He’d even gotten new sheets. Not that she seemed to care. She hadn’t been there since she had stormed out on him the night Gigi had come downstairs.
“I…would. You haven’t asked.”
“You would, but you wouldn’t like to,” he corrected her.
“There are a lot of memories there,” she said. “Not all of them are that pleasant.”
“Like Gigi coming down the stairs?”
She closed her eyes and blew out through her nose. “Like Gigi coming downstairs.”
“Are you ever going to forgive me for that?”
She opened her eyes and answered, “I do. I do forgive you for that. I know nothing happened, but it’s hard, Clay. It’s hard when we had ten years of a relationship that was based on an understanding…not trust. I want to trust you. I want to go back to your place. I want to accept Gigi as your friend. I just…I’m not entirely there yet.”
“Okay,” he said, not pushing her. “Well, maybe this will help. Maybe if we have a place without memories, it’ll help.”
“You’re probably right. I’m just letting my own insecurities rule me. I’m working on it.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Can I show you the place now?”
She nodded. “Please.”
Clay punched in the code that the real estate agent had given him into the lockbox. The key dropped out of the bottom, and he let them both in.
Andrea walked in first to the partially furnished townhouse. The agency liked to put enough furniture into the space so that people could get a realistic view of what it looked like. Or at least that was what the realtor had told him when he asked.
“Hmm,” Andrea said. She turned in a circle in the foyer and looked three stories up to where a skylight cast afternoon light into the room.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked, closing the door behind him. “Give me the rundown.”
“All right,” she agreed.
Then she started telling him everything she liked about the space starting in the living room, moving to the dining room and then the kitchen. Her eyes lit up.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“You like it?” he asked, following her inside.
“Like it? No. I love it.” In awe, she ran her hand across the granite countertops and to the large center island. Her eyes flickered up to his, and then she bent forward at the waist. His eyes landed on the ample amount of breasts spilling out of her top and then to her ass that was perfectly level with the counter.
“Good, sturdy island. Good size. Good height.”
“Fuck,” he breathed. He strode toward her and grabbed her hips. Yeah, perfect fucking height. He was definitely going to have to break this in.
She straightened, sliding her ass against his dick, and he just gripped her tighter. Fucking hell. He wasn’t going to get through the rest of the tour.
She giggled and then started toward the stairs, leaving him alone and horny.
Goddamn it. He loved this woman and all her torture.
He followed her all the way up to the top of the steps. She skipped the second floor and went straight to the third.
“Most important things first,” she told him over her shoulder.
Then, he followed her into the large master bedroom, which she observed with little interest. Then, she strode right on into the walk-in closet, just like he’d known she would. It was huge, and by her gasp when she entered, he was pretty sure she hadn’t seen anything like it, except for in one of those Sex in the City movies.
“What the hell would you need all this space for?” she asked, looking around, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Your suits will only take up this much space.”
Clay shrugged, his eyes alight with mischief. “Always room to grow.”
She furrowed her brows and then strode out of the room and scrambled down the stairs to the second floor. There were two bedrooms and a third room, which was clearly meant to be an office. It had a large bay window with a window seat.
Her lips trembled slightly for a second, and then she gave her opinion of the room. “You’d put in built-in shelves for your law books, of course. A mahogany desk about yea high,” she said, gesturing to just above her hip.
She turned to face him, and he could see she was wary. Very wary. Confused and excited and cautious. She couldn’t seem to decide what to do with her hands, but she didn’t break his stare.
“I had other plans for this room.”
“Oh?” she whispered.
“This room has the best view and the best light.” She swallowed hard as he approached her. “I thought it should be your studio.”
Andrea stilled entirely. “What?”
“The walls are empty. I want you to fill them. I know you love painting just as much as you love collecting even if you pretend like you have no interest,” he told her. “You’d put your easel there.” He pointed at a corner. “The light reflects there best in the morning, which is when you’d work. I’d bring in a long table to fill some of the space and a settee for you to work on when you can’t sit at a stool any longer.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “How did you know?” she whispered.
“Because I know you. I know every little thing about you, and I love you for it all. I’d love you if you never once let me see your paintings. If you kept them hidden away in that spare room in your apartment. Locked away and contained, like you’ve always treated the rest of your life, Andrea. I’d even put a lock on this door for your privacy. I know you, love. You must realize this by now.”
She nodded softly but didn’t say anything. She seemed struck with awe.
“Move in with me,” he said softly.
“What?” she asked.
“Move in with me, Andrea.”
“You’re serious?” Her mouth was hanging open. She seemed shocked that this was what he wanted.
“I’ve never been more serious. You said that I needed to prove that this was what I wanted. Well, this is what I want.” He gestured around the space. “I don’t need another woman in my life. I don’t want you second-guessing our relationship. I don’t want you worried about anything. I just want us together.”
“You don’t…you don’t think this is too soon?” she asked.
“Maybe it is,” he said with an easy shrug. “Maybe we’re moving too fast, but we spent so much time at a standstill that I don’t want to do it anymore.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and a smile spread across her face. “So, this really isn’t a new bachelor pad for you?” she joked through a hiccup.
“No, it’s really not,” he told her with a kiss to her stunned lips. “Move in with me. I want to come home from a long day at work to find you sprawled in our bed. I want to wake up every morning with your body curled around me. I want us to share a space, as I have shared my life with you. I want you here. With me. Always.”
“Clay,” she
gasped. “I…I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it. I want to get rid of our apartments and sell the house.” He drew her even closer. “Make new memories, happy memories, here with me.”
“Okay,” she said finally as if she had finally realized that he was completely serious.
“Is that a yes?” he joked.
She stretched up onto her tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth. “Yes, I’ll move in with you. There’s nothing else I want more in the world. Let’s do it.”
Chapter 27
THE ISLAND
“No! No! Be careful with that!” Andrea shrieked. “Do you know how much that cost? I’ll sue you for everything you’re worth if you drop that.”
The mover stared at her, as if she were insane. Clay just chuckled. Andrea was a little obsessive when it came to moving.
“Now, put it over there.” She flung her hand to the side and pointed at the wall. “And hang it neatly, please.”
The guy trudged into the room, and Clay followed him as Andrea flounced back out to harass the rest of the movers.
“Hey, man, sorry about that. She’s just really particular,” Clay said after the man had settled the artwork down on the floor, as if it were the most precious thing he’d ever held.
“No offense, but your wife is a little crazy,” the guy said.
Clay smiled and didn’t correct him. “That she is. But we all love them that way, don’t we?”
The mover shrugged and nodded. “Sure. Makes them good in bed.”
Clay pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and passed it to the man. “Just do whatever she says.”
“Sure thing. Priceless artwork hanging on the wall—neatly.”
“Thanks, man.”
When Andrea set her mind to something, everything had to be done exactly the way she wanted. He’d known as soon as she had agreed to move into their new place together that the move-in job was going to be one hell of a ride. She couldn’t even go to sleep unless all of her artwork was unpacked and hanging on the walls.
It didn’t help matters that she’d decided they needed to move in within the week. Nor did it help that he’d been so swamped at work that he couldn’t be there to pack. She’d hired someone to do most of the work, of course, but she also didn’t trust anyone with half of the things in her house, so she’d stormed around in a rampage, making sure people were properly storing everything in sight.
Most people would find it annoying.
He found it adorable.
They spent the better part of the day arranging, rearranging, and unpacking. It was grueling but worth it. When he surveyed the place at the end of the long day, he saw how it had transformed from a house to a home before his eyes.
“What do you think?” he asked.
Andrea was coming down the stairs in nothing but a pair of skintight workout shorts and a tank top with the hem tied under her tits. Her hair was in a messy bun at the top of her head with wisps floating all around her face. At that moment, he’d do anything to get his hands on her.
“It’s a work in progress.” She stopped at the foot of the stairs. “But it’s ours.”
“Very fitting then. I’d say we’re a work in progress.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms.
“Ugh! I’m so sweaty and grimy.” She tried to wrestle away, but he just lowered his lips to the crook of her neck and licked up her skin. She shivered in his arms, and he watched her pupils dilate with desire.
“Perfect then.”
“You’re ridiculous. We should go shower.”
“Oh, we will.” He gave her a mischievous look. “After we christen that kitchen island you’ve been teasing me with all week.”
She arched an eyebrow, but he didn’t wait for her to respond. He hoisted her up into his arms and carried her into their kitchen. Their kitchen. He deposited her on her ass onto the kitchen island. Their kitchen island. His fingers brushed across her knees, spreading her legs open as far as they’d go.
“I hate to break it to you, lover,” she whispered, her voice breathy, “but I’m actually wearing something under this.”
“Well, I’ll just have to fix that, won’t I?”
She grabbed him by the collar of his T-shirt and yanked him toward her. She’d been right. The island was the perfect height. He pressed himself hard up against the front of her shorts and was rewarded with a moan of pleasure from Andrea. He pushed her back flat against the kitchen island and then buried his face into her thin workout shorts. He breathed heavily against the material until she was squirming against his face.
“We’re going to need to get rid of these.”
“Definitely.”
She hopped off the counter and removed all her clothes at once. Then, without warning, she grabbed his shorts and dropped to her knees, dragging his shorts to his ankles. Her hand grasped his dick, and he had to reach forward to hold on to the counter as she massaged him up and down.
Her tongue licked around the head of his cock, and he closed his eyes to keep from coming all over her face. She lavished his cock, wetting the entire head, before popping it into her mouth and playing with it, as if it were a Popsicle. His jaw clenched as he strained for control.
Fuck, she was going to work him so hard that he wouldn’t be able to get her off.
He needed to hold out.
FUCK!
She rocked forward toward him and got half of his dick in her mouth before sucking backward to the tip. Then, she pushed forward again. He knew she had an almighty gag reflex, and he didn’t want to push her, but, fuck, did he thrust his dick further into her mouth the next time she took more of him in.
Her fingers dug into his thighs, and it took all his strength not to grab her head and bottom out in her mouth. He let her do the guiding even though it was sweet, blissful torture. She drew back and forth, in and out, until he thought he might fall apart at her ministrations. His cock was thickening, lengthening still. He could feel the veins throbbing as he fought not to come yet.
Fucking hell, the woman could she suck a dick.
She didn’t do it often, but, damn, when she did, he was a goner.
“Andrea,” he growled, “I’m going to come all down your throat if you don’t stop, baby.”
She didn’t stop.
“Baby,” he moaned, fisting her hair. “Baby…I need to fuck you.”
She looked up at him with those big blue eyes, and he had to really tense up not to pop out and come all over her face.
Clay pulled out of her mouth, lifted her up off the ground with ease, and then bent her over, ass up on the counter. Her pussy was pink and gleaming at him, totally exposed in that moment. He ran his fingers through the wetness just once before prodding her opening with his dick and ramming forward into her.
He knew he had zero chance of lasting long, so he needed to make this good for her. He slammed into her brutally, unrelenting. His balls smacked against her clit as he pushed all the way inside her. He could already feel his release threatening to take him, but he needed her to come with him.
“You close?” he asked.
She moaned loudly. He pounded inside her a few more times, grabbed her hips hard enough to leave indents, and then came like a torrent inside her body.
She let out a piercing scream as he felt her walls contract all around him. Her body shook. Her legs gave out, and he had to hold her up to keep her from falling over.
“Damn,” she murmured, resting her cheek against the cold counter. “What a way to break the house in.”
“We’re not done yet,” he told her.
She laughed as he pulled out of her. “We still have a lot of rooms to break in,” she agreed.
“We do.”
“Shower first?” she suggested.
“Mmm…wet and naked. I approve.”
“I have an idea,” she said a few minutes later while under the hot stream in the shower.
“I like ideas.”
He ran his hands up and
down her body, unable to believe that all of this belonged to him. That he had earned her back. That this was his reality. He’d thought Brady was the luckiest son of a bitch alive. Now, he was pretty sure that title went to him.
“How about a housewarming party?”
His lips found hers once more as he slipped his fingers between her legs and pressed her back into the shower wall. “Anything you want.”
Clay could tell right away that Andrea was completely in her element as a hostess for their housewarming party and that she was also scared as hell about what was about to happen.
“It’s going to be fine,” he told her again.
He ran his hands up and down her bare arms. She was in a sleeveless, short floral dress and heels that kept clicking all over the hardwood floor as she paced.
“I know. I know. I just…”
“It’s okay. You want to make a good impression, but…these are our friends and family. It’s not going to be any different.”
She nodded. “It’s just…it’s the first time we’re doing something like this and as a couple.”
“We’ve been doing things together as a couple for years. The only people who know that it’s different this time are you and me. The only people’s opinions who matter here are you and me.”
She straightened her back and nodded. “I know. I don’t know why I’m nervous. Silly, really.”
He smiled at her just as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” she squeaked, rushing to the door.
Brady and Liz entered the room, and then there was a chorus of cries from the girls.
Liz pulled her into a hug and squeezed her tight. “Ahh!” she yelled again, bouncing up and down on her own high heels. “This is so awesome.”
Andrea laughed and then tried to wriggle out of Liz’s embrace. “Thank you. Y’all come in. Come in.”
Once Brady and Liz were inside the foyer, Andrea shut the door behind them and teetered back and forth in anticipation. “What do you think?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful!” Liz gushed. “Oh my God, show me everything!”
And then they dashed away for Andrea to give Liz a tour.
Clay just shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and rocked back on his heels. “At least the squealing is gone,” he said to his brother. “Drink?”
