Slipping my waistband over my hips, I let my tuxedo slacks fall, pooling to the floor. Standing over her, I let my boxer briefs fall with them, and, now naked, I grip her chin with my fingers waiting for her to open her eyes.
My cock twitches when she does and I notice her green irises are hungry, brushing over my skin and landing on my cock which juts proudly toward her face, ready for the taking.
“I want you.” Her speech is slow, almost slurred—drunk with need. “I want you, Andrew. So much.”
“I want you too,” I reply. I reach for the nightstand. And just as my fingers find the drawer, Nancy's find mine.
She wraps her tiny hand around my own, pulling, bringing my knuckles to her mouth which she graces with a tender kiss.
She stares up at me, emerald eyes gleaming.
“Don't.”
I stop. “What?”
“Don't,” she repeats. “I want to feel you. All of you.”
“But I —"
Before I can finish the sentence, she pulls me on top of her. Her nails dig into my shoulders, drilling softly down. Her fingers paint a picture on my skin, brushing over the ink of my skin—the names of my parents, tiny symbols all over my body.
It's as if she's inking herself there, too—incorporating her touch into my soul.
Truth be told, she is.
I know as long as I live, I will never forget this moment. Forget this time with her.
I scrape my lips across her jaw, inhaling her scent. “I am so fucking crazy about you, beautiful.”
“I’m crazy about you, Andrew. I’m insane when it comes to you.”
Her admission snaps a thread in me.
It is not everything I want from her right now. But it is everything I need.
I back up, reaching for her bra immediately and unfastening her straps. Next to go are her panties, and I shed them in seconds, flinging them across the bedroom floor.
Pinning Nancy's body to the bed, I kiss her full on the mouth, stopping my body from rushing at the rate it wants to.
I slow it down.
“Fuck, woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”
She grins. “A week ago, if you had told me that I would have said ‘Good.’”
I grin back. “Well, we’ll see who’s laughing in sixty seconds.”
“Sixty seconds? Is that all it will take?”
“Well, technically, we have my sister’s wedding to get into in about, say, two hours. But I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you. I’m talking about this.”
I lower my head to her nipples, wrapping my mouth around the nearest one I can find, soaking it with my tongue.
Because tonight is not about me. It’s about Nancy.
It’s about us.
I got her to say the three words that will be the death of me.
Now, I need her to say the three words that will be the death of her.
“I’m. Gonna. Come.”
I laugh softly to myself, getting to the task at hand—and then I slip inside of her, and she groans, and I feel like I’ve come home.
Finally, I feel like I’m home.
Chapter 25
NANCY
My body is no longer my own.
And, in wonders of all wonders, I'm actually okay with that…
Because I'm not sure my heart is either.
Both belong to Andrew.
Especially after he gives me two orgasms—served straight up with no chasers, and I’m still clinging to the second one when someone comes knocking at the door.
I’ve heard of annoying siblings. But being the only child, I’ve never known much about the dynamic…
Until now.
I nearly scream at Sabrina like she’s my younger sister when I realize that the voice behind the door is a man’s.
Andrew kisses me, just as swiftly as he made me come, before jumping to his feet, dressing in the clothes I’d just watched him so deliciously discard.
I sit up in bed, my skin begging for his, as he pulls on his slacks, buttoning his tuxedo back up.
I watch.
“Wait, that’s it. That’s all I get?”
He smiles, a sunny expression that contrasts against the encroaching darkness of the bedroom as sunset starts to creep near. He leans over, kissing me again.
“For now, sweetness,” he utters low. “I’ve been waiting on a friend to meet up. Something I’ve got to handle.”
“Something?” I urge. “Or someone…?”
He waves for a second before answering. “Someone. Yes, you’re right. Someone who thinks they can get away with hurting the people I love.”
“That Frank Levins guy?”
I reach for my discarded underwear, and Andrew stops me, his voice serious. “Frank Levins, yes… And whatever fucker is slipping him details about us in order to sabotage every death ride we’ve been on in the last two days.”
I stand up, pushing off the bed. “I’m coming with you.”
Andrew spins, blue eyes going cold. “No, the hell you’re not.”
“Yes, the hell I am,” I stand rigid, hands on my hips, indignant even when I’m naked. “You’re not doing this without me. You’re not fighting battles without me. We’re a team.”
“Good God, you’ve never sounded more like a boss than you do in this moment.” One side of his face ticks up. “It’s sexy.”
I laugh. “Yes, I am the boss. Or at least, I was. Without The Alchemist, I don’t know… I guess I’m nothing?”
Andrew grabs for me, tugging me close. “One: You are not nothing, sweetness. You have never been nothing. Don’t you dare say that… And two: We’re not losing The Alchemist. Not now. Not because of some sleaze who’s using your father’s bar as part of some revenge plot.”
“Some revenge plot?”
The question comes out jumbled, but before Andrew can answer, another knock pounds on the door.
“Aye, Fletch, you asswipe, if you want to do this, we’d better get a move on. Wedding starts in an hour, and we don’t have a lot of time. So, stop fucking around literally, and let’s go.” The man pauses. “Oh, and hi Nancy, nice to, uh, hear from you again. How have you been?”
I stare at Andrew who gazes down at me, a laugh in his eyes. He
