I blew on the steaming liquid. “You didn’t have to stay here.”
“Yes, I did.”
Tilting his head back, he drained the last sips of his coffee. A low groan of satisfaction from the back of his throat caused my cheeks to heat. Lately, everything he did brought forth images of sex.
“Do you mind if I use your shower?” He absent-mindedly scratched his lower stomach, showing off his glorious V muscles that pointed straight to his crotch.
I swallowed. “Sure. Towels are in the bathroom.”
“Thanks.”
Once his footsteps faded, I groaned and threw myself face down into the couch. My sexual frustration had reached a dangerously high level. I yearned, no, needed to join Andrew in the shower before I exploded.
His hands slide over my naked body while his hard erection presses into my thigh. My whimpers of desire are the only invitation he needs. I bite back a scream as Andrew fills me to the breaking point. Snaking his arm around my waist, he holds me up. My back arches as Andrew thrusts in and out. His thumb sweeps over my clit, building a fierce and furious need.
“Come for me, baby,” Andrew whispers in my ear.
The front door slammed open and so did my eyes. Dazed, the sexy daydream went up in in smoke. With embarrassing clarity, I realized my hand was inches from the waistband of my pants. Yes, this was definitely going to be a problem. Monica’s high heels announced her arrival before she did. Panic zapped through my veins and I threw my feet over the edge of the couch. Monica couldn’t know Andrew slept over last night. I wouldn’t hear the end of it until the next millennium.
I intercepted her path. “Hi, you need to leave.” Shoving her toward the door, Monica dug her heels in and refused to budge. “Seriously. Leave.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing, it’s just not a good time.”
Her arms crossed. “I thought we determined your lack of hot sexy males hiding in your apartment.”
As if Andrew was summoned, the bathroom door opened and he emerged in a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped around his waist. Broad shoulders lead to a set of chiseled six-pack abs, which glistened with water. My jaw dropped to the floor along with Monica’s.
“Never mind, I take that back,” Monica uttered. “Looks like somebody found her groove.”
His lips stretched into a sexy grin. “Hey, I’m Andrew.”
Monica’s expression morphed into glee as she threw her body forward. “You are THE Andrew?”
He shot a glance my way, confused. I shrugged and wished I could disappear into the floor. Monica had a talent for embarrassing me.
“You know, the Andrew who opened that coffee shop last year, helped start that edible food garden, and is basically talented at everything?” she squealed.
“I guess, but I wouldn’t say I’m good at everything. My lemonade stand failed miserably.”
Now it was Monica’s turn to look baffled. “Lemonade stand?”
“Yeah, when I was five I opened a lemonade stand. My mom was my only customer.” He motioned toward my bedroom. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to go change into clothes.”
Monica stared after him, hands on her hips, head cocked. “I didn’t think he would be so humble.”
Andrew forged a path very few took and somehow didn’t lose his ego along the way. My respect toward him tripled. Turning her scrutinizing gaze on me, Monica bounced on her heels.
I could tell she wanted to ask a thousand questions but before she could, I held up my hand. “It is not what you think.”
“Really? Because it looks like exactly what I think.”
“Sadly, you’re mistaken. After he picked me up from work, we came back here and fell asleep talking.”
Although it wasn’t the whole truth, it wasn’t exactly a lie either. At the same time, I don’t know why I didn’t tell Monica about Sumiko and her newfound drug habit that led to stealing five hundred dollars from me. Monica had been my confidante since the third grade. She knew the bad, the ugly, and the uglier parts of my childhood.
Monica rolled her eyes. “That is so boring. You know what I did last night?”
“What?”
“I experienced orgasm nirvana with a gorgeous Latino man named Gabriel.”
“Awesome. Good for you.”
A piece of paper clutched in Monica’s fist caught my attention. It looked like it had been torn from the pages of a notebook.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Oh! I completely forgot.” She smoothed the paper against her jeans and handed it to me. “It was tacked to your door when I came over.”
Nerves jittered in my stomach. As children Sumiko used to practice her penmanship by writing letters. Her father drilled the idea in her head that a proper young lady had to have a talent. Since Sumiko hated sports and playing music, she chose cursive. A skill she only used on the rare occasion, like now.
My dearest sister,
I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I never intended to fall off the wagon but the nightmares became too real and too frequent until my reality merged with my dreams. Desperation made me crave the sweet numbness drugs offered. Nonetheless, that’s not why I stole the money. Based on the knife Big Ted held to my throat, he will make good on his threat. The five hundred will buy you some time.
Love,
Sumiko
Monica left with explicit instructions to bang Andrew because and I quote, “He is too hot to not bang repeatedly and on the regular.” While I would’ve loved to lose myself in a sweaty round of aerobics, right now wasn’t the time.
The note Sumiko left had thrown me for a loop, to put it mildly. After his heart attack, Big Ted became a guy who relied on intimidation rather than violence to get shit done. It didn’t make sense why that changed all of a sudden. Sumiko could be lying or Big Ted had grown desperate. When I’d last seen him a year ago, the foundation he had grown his empire on had formed a gaping crevice by the name of Superfly, a newer, younger drug dealer with competitive rates. Big Ted said he wasn’t worried but the panic in his eyes told a different story. I could go ask him point blank, but if my mom did owe him money, I would be screwed. That five hundred dollars was everything I had.
Andrew found me at the dining room table, gazing blankly into a cold cup of coffee. He saw the note and looked at me for permission to read it. Gesturing at him to go ahead, his mouth moved along with words. When he was done, he folded the note into thirds and tucked into his pocket.
“What are you doing?” I wondered.
“In case the police do get involved, this note is evidence.”
“And you think it’s safer in your pocket than in my apartment?”
Andrew’s hesitated but his unwavering honesty won. “Well—yes.”
My molars gritted together as my eyes clouded over with anger. Luckily for Andrew, my emotional limit had hit its peak. Besides, he was most likely right. Underneath my mattress wasn’t the best hiding spot. I saw that now.
“Ok, but the police aren’t going to get involved. This is a matter between my family and my family only.”
Andrew’s mouth thinned. His eyes rolled to the ceiling and fixated on a smudge of dirt. I heard him counting backwards from five. An unfamiliar wave of anxiety hit me square in the chest.
“There is this thing called a door. You are more than welcome to leave. With your art show coming up, I’m sure my family drama is the last item you need on your plate.” My hands wove together in my lap as I blathered on. “Really, I won’t be offended. I’m used to being on my own.”
I felt his weighty gaze and looked up. Tenacity shined in his eyes and it hit me—Andrew wasn’t going anywhere. We were in this together.