“You hate nicknames, don’t you?”
I inched my pointer finger and thumb together. “Just a little bit.”
“Figured. What I was trying to say was that I just need a break from the drama. Not being able to help you is driving me insane, Haven. If I had it my way, Big Ted would be behind bars and your stepsister in rehab.” He tightened his hold. “Can we just pretend for an hour that we are on our first date? You laugh at my jokes, we flirt, and maybe at the end we share a goodnight kiss.”
His dark eyes flickered with hope, igniting a sense of bravery inside me.
I moved his hands to cup the round curve of his ass. “I think we have moved past first base Andrew and are running toward home.”
He grinned wickedly. “Are you coming onto me, Haven McClain?”
“I don’t know? Am I, Andrew Foster?”
“Mmm,” he dipped his head and whispered in my ear. “I like when you say my full name. It sounds sexy coming from your lips.”
My heart rate tripled as his minty fresh breath sent shivers down my spine. “Is that so?”
“That is definitely so.”
Andrew slid his hands up underneath the back of my shirt, racking his short-cut fingernails against my skin. Pleasure heated my bloodstream. The sound of a truck barreling past reminded me we were in plain sight, yet I couldn’t care less. I had waited long enough. My sexual dry spell ended now. Tipping my chin upwards, my mouth found his. Andrew growled, losing the control he so desperately held onto and kissed me like a man starved of oxygen. His fingers tangled into my hair while he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth. I moaned and pulled Andrew closer until we were one and the same. Dizzy with desire, the world around us faded. A whimper of protest left the back of my throat when we separated, breaths ragged.
“If you keep it up, I won’t be able to wait until we get home,” Andrew said.
“Why wait?” My gaze flickered to the abounded house. “We can act out your teenage fantasies in your childhood fort.”
“I knew there was a vixen inside you yet.”
He swung me off my feet and into his arms. Kicking the splintered door open, I breathed in a lungful of damp earth. Wooden boards nailed on the windows blocked out the sunlight. The small one room shack knocked up to a ten on the creep factor. I began to regret my decision. Sensing my discomfort, Andrew put me down and clicked his cell phone on. While meager, it provided enough light to better see our surrounding.
“There might be a few candlesticks and matches,” Andrew mused. “Let me check.”
He raided the set of chest of drawers next to a shell of a bedframe missing its mattress. I hugged my arms around my waist and pretended not to notice the structure’s dilapidated state. Otherwise, my dry spell would stay intact for another day.
“Ha! I knew they were in here,” Andrew struck a match and begun to place the candlesticks around the room. A faint glow flickered against the walls. “I could also start a fire too, if you’re cold.”
“I’m good. Thank you.”
Recognizing the unease in my voice, Andrew strode to where I was and flashed a heart-stopping grin. “We are perfectly safe. Relax.”
“This is how every horror movie starts.”
His eyes darkened. “Then let’s rewrite history.” Taking off his jacket, he laid it on the scratched hardwood floor like a makeshift blanket.
“Romance at its finest,” I mumbled.
Andrew laughed softly while our gazes locked. My doubts were forgotten as I tumbled into his arresting eyes. Location didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the feel of him inside me. We began right where we’d left off, lips locked, bodies pressed together, and our moans of pleasure shattering the dusty silence. He guided me down onto the jacket. Grabbing the hem of my t-shirt, reluctance churned in my stomach. The last time Andrew saw my scars was in the middle of our first and last argument. He hadn’t uttered a word about them since.
As if he felt my body stiffen, he lifted his mouth from mine. Concern creased his eyebrows together. “If you don’t want to do this, say the word and we will stop.”
“No! It’s just….” I hesitated. “Usually it’s darker.”
Awareness dawned in his eyes. “You are completely and utterly beautiful. Do not hide from me, Haven. I want you, all of you.”
The plea in his voice untied the knots in my stomach. Andrew didn’t fall in the same league as the other men I had been with. He saw beyond my body to the fragile soul underneath. This time when Andrew inched my t-shirt over my head, I didn’t stop him. Resisting the urge to cover myself with my hands, they curled into fist at my sides.
Andrew drank in my half naked torso and sighed. “God, how did I get so lucky?”
A rush of affection spilt me into two and the unspoken question—How did I?—rang in my head.
He pressed a kiss against the saw-toothed scar above my bellybutton and spoke. “These scars are simply a part of you, but they do not define you.”
As the night proceeded, Andrew showed me exactly what he meant with every caress on my heated skin, each thrust between my legs, and every lick of his tongue until my scars no longer held the meaning they once did.
I knew I’d spend the next day walking around bowlegged due to the events of that afternoon, but I couldn’t complain. Andrew had ended my two-year dry spell with multiple orgasms. He’d put my needs before his and didn’t give it a second thought. Not to mention, controlling in a sexy way that had me bending over backwards to please him (pun intended). A goofy grin had been plastered on my face since we’d left the abandoned house and wouldn’t disappear. It only grew bigger as flashes of our tryst popped into my head. I couldn’t believe we had sex in an abounded house. Anybody could have found us, yet the forbidden factor raked up the hotness scale. Spank my fanny and call me Mary, an exhibitionist resided in my yet. Never thought I would say that. Although my inner slut raged hard in high school, my sex life wasn’t very dirty. I didn’t have sex in closets, in the backseat of cars, or anywhere besides where a bed was present. Andrew’s intoxicating presence made me forget the outside world and solely on the lust raging through my veins.
Dumping my suitcase on his bed, I searched for a dressy casual outfit to wear tonight. Since I had no idea what that term meant, my options were overwhelming. A black wrap cardigan got discarded into the yes pile along with black slacks. So far the pile looked like a whole lot of black and nothing else. However if my memory served me correctly, Andrew’s friends at the strip club had a fondness for the midnight shade. My phone beeped on my nightstand and I pulled up a text message from Monica.
Kick ass tonight and be the sexy bitch I know you are.
I smiled at the screen and wished Monica could have come to the art show. I needed the self-confidence boost of my best friend by my side. Glancing at my lackluster options, my fingers slid open Andrew’s closet doors. A dress stood out amongst the black and gray suites. It shimmered in the light, changing from gray to a light blue, reminding me of a waterfall. A simple note with my name was tacked to the bodice. A squeal bounced off the walls when I realized Andrew had bought the dress for me.
Changing out of my street clothes, I took the dress off the hanger and slipped it over my head. The gown skimmed my curves, landing above my knees. I swished back and forth, overcome with gratitude. Andrew should be renamed Prince Charming. The beauty of the dress blinded me to the shoes on the closet floor. They were white, strappy, and had a six-inch heel. Tonight Andrew and I would be ideal kissing height. Sliding my feet into the stilettos, I did a practice run around his bedroom. At first my legs wobbled but they eventually got the hang of it.
“You are a sight for sore eyes.”
Spinning around, Andrew leaned against the doorframe. He wore an old band t-shirt with a black slim cut jacket. Day old stubble dotted his cheeks. His brown eyes were almost black against his tan complexion and framed by a pair of rim horned glasses. It was a sin how gorgeous Andrew looked.