I'm melting in his arms.
I lean forward, forgetting my towel, my ass just brushing against his hips. My hands reach for his face.
Running through his hair, my fingertips cup his chin, pressing his lips to mine.
I sit up straighter in Andrew's lap, my hands running across his chest. The feel of his muscles underneath my fingertips is surreal—better every time.
I run my hand up his chest, tracing the line of his tattoos. Tattoos covered by the beautiful tux on his body.
I breathe his name. “Andrew.”
The sound of the zipper pulls me from my thoughts. I look down and notice that I'm already trying to undress him, my hands moving over his body from muscle memory—pure desire alone.
I'm not me, or at least a conscious me, when I'm with him.
Someone else takes over.
A different version of me. And this one might be my favorite.
I don’t hide my smile.
“I like the tux,” I say, enjoying my own boldness.
“Maybe I should keep it on?” he suggests.
“Maybe you should take it off.”
He raises his brows. “So, you can see what's underneath.” He kisses me. “You already know what's underneath.” He glances down as my hand sinks into his open fly, feeling around. “And it seems you like what you see.” My fingers wrap around his length and squeeze. “Mmm.”
His hands caress the planes of my face. “You're so sexy.”
“I’m glad you think so.” I grin.
He reaches down, his hands tracing the ridges of my spine. “I want you.”
“You have me.” My hands are on his shoulders, my fingers running into his hair.
I look down at our bodies, straddling him. I'm not even me.
My hands rest on his shoulders, but he's reaching out, his hands on my waist. He pulls me closer, and I sink down on his cock. My hands dive into his hair.
I'm losing myself against him and I can't stop, no matter how hard I try.
Nothing else matters—not him, not me. Not what I've been through, not what I'm supposed to be doing.
Not even my towel, which slides to the floor leaving me completely nude.
The only thing in the world that matters is Andrew.
I move up and down on his cock, my head thrown back in pleasure.
Andrew's hands clutch my ass, pulling me against him.
My lips find his, and I kiss him, moving my hips faster. Sliding his hands up my hips, he grabs my breasts, massaging them, his thumbs running across my nipples, and I moan against him, the sound hot against his skin.
His grip on my breasts tightens, and he pulls me down onto him even harder.
My hips are moving faster now, my breath growing heavier and deeper.
Andrew's hands move from my breasts, and he grabs my hips, pulling me against him. He thrusts his hips up, pressing his cock into me.
I moan, my head thrown back. He bends down, sucking on my nipples, and I scream, needing him more than life, my orgasm building.
“Oh, God, Andrew…”
“Fuck, baby, I love you so much,” he groans, the sound guttural as he thrusts inside me. “I can't take it anymore. You feel so fucking amazing I'm gonna explode. So fucking wet. So perfect. Holy shit.”
I'm on fire, burning under his dirty words and fast pumping, and I know I'm on the edge of ecstasy.
Right now.
And he's there with me.
So close.
I grab the base of his cock as I lower myself down onto him, and I kiss him and swivel faster, my hips winding against his, knowing he’s ready to explode.
Biting his bottom lip softly, I pull it gently against mine, and just as I feel Andrew's cock start to thicken inside me on the edge of his release…
A voice sounds from behind me—interrupting, like a splash of cold water on a burning flame.
A moment later Sabrina and Lachlan enter the room.
I glance over my shoulder in time to see Lachlan's hazel eyes dance between us. His gaze flicks from me, still sitting on Andrew's lap, to the two of us, in the throes of passion. His eyes widen and his jaw drops.
“What the hell did you invite me to, Sabrina?” Lachlan asks, pointing at us in disbelief. “You said we were going to a party.”
“We have to go,” Sabrina says, grabbing Lachlan's arm and pulling him away. “You know, we could have been watching a movie in my room.”
Andrew's eyes are on me, and I know those eyes have questions about Sabrina and Lachlan. But he doesn't ask.
I turn to him, face growing hot as I gnaw my bottom lip into oblivion. I sigh, placing my forehead onto Andrew’s shoulder just as he swears.
“Fuck…” he mutters, glancing at the open door. “Does this mean I'm going to have to get a new vomit bag? We just bought that new furniture, and I can't have Sabrina throwing up all over it.”
I groan. “God, if we thought we scarred her before…”
“I know. And we just gave her the live show.” He kisses me quickly, hands patting on my hips as he looks at me, appearing ready to go for another round. “I'm sorry we were interrupted.”
“So am I,” I respond. “But maybe it's for the best. We have a bar to run.”
“No, I have a bar to run. You have film class registration starting soon, so I won’t keep you out late tonight. You've got an early morning tomorrow.”
I grin, wrapping my arms around him again, my clutch tight. “Yes, sir. You're the boss now.”
“I am, aren't I?” He smirks. “Can't lie. It feels good…” He stops. “I meant what I said,” he whispers in my ear as he pulls out of me. “I do love you, Nancy.” He grabs my chin, caressing it as he presses a full kiss to mouth, his lips coming down hard on mine before he lets up. “But do you think you can warn me the next time you give my sister a key to our apartment? Because the last time I checked, I didn't give her one.”
I shake my
