Andrew gently nipped my plump bottom lip.
Pain mixed with pleasure. I found his thick hardness waiting for me and I wrapped my fingers around the length of his shaft. My hand pumped forward. Andrew’s groan vibrated through me. Stopping at the entrance to the bedroom, he lifted me off the ground and my legs tangled around his waist.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we changed direction.
“My art studio.”
“Your art studio?”
Andrew looked at me with desire. “I want to paint you, naked and sedated with pleasure. I want to run my paintbrush over your lush curves. I want to plunge deep inside you and fill you to the very brim.”
My mouth gaped open in an O. “That sounds… nice.”
“Nice? It sounds nice?” Andrew laughed. “Nice is reserved for kittens and soft fluffy things. What we are about to do is anything but nice.”
He shifted me higher on his waist so that my clit brushed his hipbone. A zap of pleasure hit my core. Squirming in his arms, my fingers dug into his back.
His gaze darkened. “If you keep doing that, we might not make it there.”
I swiveled my head around and saw we were near the kitchen. I had no idea where his art studio was actually located, but if we didn’t get there within the next five seconds, I might die. Lust coiled tightly in my belly like a rubber band about to snap.
Andrew’s thumb dragged over my throbbing sex. “You’re so wet.”
A gasp passed my lips as I arched into his touch. Desperation sunk me to a new level, begging. “Please, I need you inside me. Please, Andrew.”
He swallowed my pleas. Our tongues danced together and he lowered me to the ground onto the scratchy surface of the runner in the hallway. Shedding his boxers, I drank him in.
“Shit.” Frustration passed over Andrew’s face. “One second. I have to grab a condom.”
“It’s fine. I’m on birth control and I’m guessing you’re clean. Right?”
“Clean as a whistle.”
With that information out of the way, I reached greedily toward Andrew. “Great, now fuck me.”
“Such a dirty mouth,” he chided.
Both at our breaking points, Andrew shoved my underwear to the side and thrust inside me. He remained a slow and steady rhythm that was both maddening and mind blowing. Andrew flicked his tongue against my covered nipple. I whimpered as a tornado built.
“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Andrew purred, his eyes locked onto mine. “That’s it, come.”
Throwing my head backwards, a scream ripped from my throat as an orgasm racked through my body. Moments later, Andrew tipped over the edge. He slumped foreword, his dick twitching and spent.
I laughed, breathlessly. “What happened to having sex in your art studio?”
“Your not wearing any panties happened.” He rolled off of me. His cum dripped free, coating my inner thighs with the sticky substance. “I’ll get a rag to clean you up.”
He put his pants back on and walked to the bathroom. As I waited for him to return, I thought about the significance of Andrew inviting me into his art studio. Yes, we didn’t make it, however, Matthew said only Camilla was allowed in there when they were together. His studio was his sacred space and Andrew wanted me to see it. Actually, it was more like he’d wanted to fuck me in it, but that was neither here nor there. Hopefully, this mess with Big Ted would be gone by tomorrow and we could start fresh. Maybe we could be a real couple with normal problems like dirty dishes in the sink.
Seconds later, Andrew returned with a wet rag. “I’ll never get over how stunning you are, Haven.”
He got on his knees and cleaned me up. The rag was cool against my heated skin. I had never felt more cherished than when I was with Andrew. He knew how to treat me in bed and out. A rare quality ninety-nine percent of men didn’t have. The day he walked into The Roasted Bean was the luckiest day of my life. Helping me to my feet, Andrew held open a silk robe. I slipped my arms through the sleeves and tied the belt around my waist.
“Do you still want to see my art studio?” Andrew asked.
“Of course.”
We went upstairs to his office where he opened a door hidden in the ceiling. He pulled down a ladder and gestured for me to go first. I climbed the rickety steps. Andrew’s art studio was a converted greenhouse. The all glass structure offered an unobstructed view of the twinkling stars. His paintings, small and large, leaned against the walls while wood easels offered a glimpse into his works of progress.
I spun around in a circle. “This is incredible. It’s like something out of a movie.”
He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking like a proud father. “I know. I couldn’t believe my luck when the landlord said I could have it. Granted, it was pretty dilapidated at that time but it only needed a little love and care.”
“You did all the work yourself?”
“Of course. It just needed new plumbing, new floors and five quarts of window cleaner.”
My eyebrow quirked. “That’s all?”
Laughing good naturedly, he shrugged. “My dad taught me from a young age the importance of hard work.”
“Did he also teach you to be incredibly ADD?” Seeing his look of confusion, my thoughts tumbled out. “You bounce from one thing to another. Last year it was a pop up coffee shop and this year it’s painting.”
“I get bored easily and besides, what’s the fun in exploring one thing?”
“Yeah, but how do you afford to live like this?”
“A year ago, I was in law school and incredibly unhappy. Hating my life, unsure what to do about it, and hungry for adventure. My grandma passed away that fall and left me a large sum of money. She always told me to follow my own path so that’s what I did. I dropped out, traveled the world, and came back to Detroit with a fresh outlook.”
“So you can understand why I have to leave? To get that fresh outlook you’re talking about.”
“Of course,” Andrew said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. “You will?”
Walking to where I stood, he cupped my face in his hands. His brown eyes churned with endearment. “You’re an idiot if you think otherwise. You are the best part of my day.”
He lightly brushed a kiss against my lips. Before Andrew, it would have been as easy as packing a bag and hitting the open road. Now though, everything had changed. The idea of leaving him made me physically ache. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself though, if I acted like my mother and rerouted my dreams for a guy.
Andrew smoothed the crease between my brows. “Stop thinking so much.”
“I can’t help it. My brain didn’t come with an off switch.”
“Meditation would work wonders for you. Do you want to learn?”
Hokey-pokey religion stuff was never my cup of tea. My mom briefly dated her yoga teacher and they would practice in the living room. While he was the nicest guy my mom was involved with, he never wore shoes, which was unfortunate because he had the nastiest feet. I’m talking toenails that curled. I shivered in repulsion.
“I’m good,” I said. “I like to bury my problems and emotions under a layer of doubt until they fester and explode in a crying jag.”
“That’s healthy,” he said sarcastically.
“That’s me. I’m all about a healthy mindset. How did you find meditation?”
“I googled it.”
I snorted, slapping him on the arm. “Real funny.”
Andrew’s lips tugged up at the corners. He walked over to a pile of pillows, sat down, and patted the cushion next to him. I had a gut feeling whatever story he was about to tell had to do with Camilla. My legs crossed as I positioned myself.
“The first stop on my adventure was in India,” Andrew began.
“What was it like?”
“Congested with levels of poverty that were unlike anything I had never seen before.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen photographs in National Geographic magazines. It is profoundly sad.”