“If you don’t mind, I have some things around the house to take care of.”
He watches my face as I run my fingers through my hair.
“Are you avoiding me as a whole or just avoiding what happened last night?”
I blink up at him. “That’s rude.”
“Really?”
“It’s courteous to ignore what people did while they were buzzed.”
“Drunk,” he corrects.
“Buzzed,” I say again. “And it’s not that I want to avoid it, but I have a headache, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.”
“I’ll help Andy use up some of his energy. You go take care of yourself.”
Jesus, does he know what saying that does to my body, what I need to take care of?
“I’ll be upstairs.” I point as if the simple words won’t compute for him.
I don’t look back, but I can feel his eyes on me all the way up to the second level. A masculine chuckle follows me into my room.
Not only do I need a shower, but I have a million other things I’ve put off doing all week. I flit around my room, thankful my stomach is holding steady and not threatening to revolt, cleaning and straightening. I won’t want to have to do this once I’m clean, but it doesn’t make the tasks any easier.
Every so often, Andy’s giggles float up the stairs, making me smile. Drew’s deep voice changes tone as they play, and I realize I’ve become accustomed to hearing him in this house playing with his son. It’s natural, him being around, being a part of both our lives. The shock is that I want this. I want him in the same space. I want to build a life with him.
I rejected the idea outright last night when he said what he said, but the longer I let the idea ruminate, the more I can see us together, raising Andy as a couple and not just two people co-parenting the same amazing little human.
It’s still on my mind, the conversation we had in the dark last night, the way he used his words instead of trying to tell me what he felt with his body. He stopped me from climbing him like a tree although he was rock solid, his body ready to give me what I was close to begging him for.
He could’ve easily lifted me, slid into me.
But he didn’t.
Drew O’Neil took the higher road, and as bitter as I was last night, going into Sophia’s guest bedroom with an ache between my thighs, I know he made the right call. Having sex last night would’ve clouded everything else.
Well, despite the headache still teasing the corners of my head, the sexual fog has mostly lifted, and I know I want him, all of him, not just the amazing sex we have together.
As if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders with the realization, I feel lighter on my feet as I head into the bathroom, stripping my clothes off as I go. Since a shower seems like too much work, I run water in the tub, washing my face at the sink while it fills. I pop in my headphones, finding a soft playlist to listen to, no intent to get out of this tub until my mind if fully made up and my headache is gone.
I groan with deep satisfaction as I slip into the water, knowing full well there’s only one reason I didn’t put bubble bath or salts into the tub.
Before long, my head is spinning, fingers wandering where I knew they would end up, but my own touch has nothing on what the brush of his fingers felt like last night. He made my body come alive even with the numbing effect of the alcohol I consumed. God, what would he feel like right now with me completely sober?
Heaven, that’s how because he’s touched me before, his reverent fingers exploring, getting me close to the edge.
“Come for me.”
His words from over two years ago still have the power to make me shudder.
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve tried to think of someone—anyone—else while doing this, my brain always settles back on him. Knowing he loves his son, wants more than sex from me, does something to strengthen the fantasies.
My body is humming, legs shaking with an occasional twitch I’m unable to control. A sense of naughtiness washes over me since he’s right downstairs, but it also adds a little extra thrill, and my mind takes that and runs with it.
My eyes closed, lips rolling between my teeth as I concentrate on images in my mind that he’s watching me, commanding every swirl of my fingers. He’s telling me to wait, not yet, and my body obeys as if the words have been whispered in my ear, his breath ghosting over my exposed skin.
My nipples furl, the tease of the lapping water on them like a soft caress. Unbidden, one hand slides up, twisting one slightly, and it has the power to make me moan for him.
“Yes,” I pant. “Make me come.”
“Jesus.”
My eyes snap open, hands rushing up to cover myself. Embarrassment pinks my cheeks, the heat making its way down the tops of my breasts. I could cry right now, watching Drew leaning against the bathroom doorframe. In my head, I wanted him to watch me, wanted his eyes on me, words commanding my moves, but the reality of it leaves me feeling exposed.
I open my mouth to ask him to leave, but I just can’t seem to do it.
I know what he saw, know what he heard, and from the way he’s biting his lip, I’d guess he isn’t exactly upset with any of it. In fact, the bulge in his jeans answers a lot of questions.
“Enjoy the show?” I stand from the tub, water sloshing down my body, and I pause before climbing out because he seems like his eyes need a little time to assess every inch of me.
“Depends on who was in that pretty little head of yours while you were performing.”
And God, I was performing, albeit a fantasy that quickly turned into reality.
“And if I said it was you?” I step over the edge of the tub, my feet sinking into the soft bathmat.
He licks his lips as I inch closer.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His hand goes to my cheek and the sexual need is overpowered by more emotions than I can count.
“Drew,” I whisper as his lips press to mine.
“I know.”
As his kiss deepens, I feel a towel wrap around my damp shoulders, the warmth cocooning me against his chest.
The tears begin to fall in earnest, but he doesn’t pull back and ask me what’s wrong. Letting go of the past, forgiveness, and hope for the future all hitting me at once is utterly exhausting, but instead of forcing the issue, instead of trying to tease me into the girl that was just in the tub, he carries me across the room and holds me in his arms as I cry.
Chapter 42
Drew
I press my lips to the top of her head when she shifts her weight. She’s only been asleep for thirty minutes, and although she probably needs a longer nap, her body, the one trained to take care of a toddler all day, won’t allow her much peace right now.
“Have a good nap?” I whisper against her hair.
She shifts and stretches, keeping her body against mine as she lifts her head to look at my face.
She’s still in a towel, but I managed to tug a blanket over her back when we laid down. As much as I want her, I enjoyed the weight of her pressed to my chest for the limited time she allowed it. Now the big question is how is she going to react now?
“Where’s Andy?” She looks toward the empty crib in the corner.
“Exhausted himself by playing so hard. I came up to tell you he was down for a nap.” I point to the baby monitor on her dresser across the room.