“I expected you to be in some fancy Mayfair apartment, overlooking Hyde Park or something. Not that it’s not fancy around here. Just . . . more low key.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, fancy is very much not me. More like my friend Joshua. Pre-fiancée anyway.”
“You have friends?” I asked. “Consider the shit shocked right out of me.”
The corner of his mouth rose in a half smile. “What I have is a very small, close group of friends. What I don’t have is an endless list of people I know. Well, I have that too, but I don’t consider those people my friends.”
For a second, I imagined Andrew with his friends. Was he as serious with them as he was in the work place? Did he swap jokes and talk about . . . soccer? The weather?
“A small group of friends is nice. Natalie and my mom are my two best friends. And then I have a couple of girls who I met in college that I see regularly. But . . .” What did I want to confess? That my father’s abandonment made me distrustful? That would be too deep. Too much. And now that I was talking to my father, I wasn’t sure what the foundations of my approach to life had been built on.
“Natalie,” he said, almost to himself. He’d never mentioned Natalie before. I’d told him we were roommates and nothing else had ever been said. His mention of her name was the closest we’d ever come to him admitting that he was Andrew and not James.
“She’s an amazing friend. Loyal and fun and super clever.”
Andrew stayed silent as we continued our journey.
It wasn’t like he was actively denying that he’d ever known her, but he wasn’t admitting it either. There were lines he wasn’t ready to cross, and I had made my peace with that somewhere around my second orgasm the first time we were together.
It was part thrilling, part downright weird.
“I’ve only had one drink tonight,” I said, half to myself as nerves tugged in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was the thought of being with him again or our pretense that set me on edge.
The cab pulled up to the curb outside my flat and Andrew paid the driver. “Good.”
“Why good?” I asked as I pulled my keys from my purse and pushed them into the lock.
“Alcohol deadens the senses.”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, if that was true, what could I expect out of tonight? Our first night together was all sensory overload. It had felt like I’d given up complete control of my body to him. There was no way I could feel any more when he touched me.
He followed me up the stairs and hung his cashmere coat on the hanger, next to my ancient North Face that I’d found sophomore year in TJ Maxx at a fraction of the full price.
We headed into the kitchen. In a silent exchange, I nodded to the cupboard where I stored my water and he retrieved two bottles for us.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, handing me one. I gave him a half-smile, wondering whether it was a line so he could get laid—spoiler alert, he didn’t need the line—or whether he thought it was true. Andrew was a lot of things, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would say something just for the sake of it. If he really thought I was beautiful, then did he think that when we were in the office? Had he had to hold himself back from touching me? It hadn’t seemed so. In fact, if I hadn’t been at the bar in Noble Rot that first time, I don’t think I’d have ever seen him naked. He continued to stand too close to me while I took a mouthful of water before once again taking it from me and sliding it onto the counter. Cupping my face, he swept his thumb over my cheek. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
Lust tilted the floor, my knees weakened and I swayed a little, just enough to press our bodies together. “Me too.”
Without taking his gaze from mine, he pulled his tie free and undid the top two buttons of his shirt before sliding off his jacket. The incidental grazing of my body with his clothes, combined with the intensity of his stare, was like a warning: I needed to brace myself for what was to come.
He began to undress me, starting with the buttons of my blouse, punctuating my gradual disrobing with sweeps of his fingers, a lingering glance or a press of his lips. It was tortuously slow but I knew better than to try to speed things up. Andrew did what he wanted and how. It wasn’t that he was disinterested in my pleasure—far from it. He just thought he knew how to get to it better than I did. And maybe he was right.
My blouse discarded, he smoothed a knuckle down my throat and farther, between my breasts, before it hit the lace of my bra. My nipples were straining for his attention and my breaths were coming short and fast. He glanced from my chest and met my eye. That damn smirk was back—a sign, if ever there was one, that he had me exactly where he wanted me. Part of me wanted to roll my eyes, hand him his clothes, and kick him out. But I didn’t move. I just waited. Because he might have had me exactly where he wanted me, but I was exactly where I wanted to be. I knew what came next. His tongue, his fingers, the pleasure he teased out of me like he was some kind of magician. His cock, his hips, the thrusts that went so deep, I wondered whether I’d break in two.
I wanted it all.
Twenty
Andrew
Sofia’s olive skin seemed to glow in the soft light of the kitchen and her glossy hair tumbled over her shoulders. There was no doubt she had a bombshell body.
My cock reared against my zip just from looking at her. I knew the anticipation of touching her wasn’t going to be a letdown; Sofia was warm and responsive and passionate. When we were together for the first time, I’d expected her temper to get the better of her. I thought she’d be impatient and irritable at my demands. She’d surprised me. And not many people did that.
I don’t think I’d ever come so hard.
“Turn around and hold on to the marble,” I said, guiding her hips around so she faced away from me and grabbed on to the kitchen counter.
She bowed her head and tried to steady her breathing.
I bet she was already wet. Already so needy.
I stood behind her, bracing my hands outside of hers, pressing my front to her back. She shifted her hips, grinding herself back against me.
I chuckled and whispered into her ear. “You need to pace yourself. It’s going to be a while before you get my cock.”
She groaned and I slid one hand down her stomach and over her mound.
“So greedy.” Holding my fingers together, I started to rub big circles over her slit. She pushed against me, trying to feel my fingers in her folds. I moved away. She snapped her head around to look at me.
“You’re so wound up,” I said. “We’ve only just started.”
She turned. “I want to suck you,” she said.
I nodded. “I know. Later. Now you need to turn back around so I can make you feel good.”
“I don’t think I’m going to last long. It’s almost like the less you touch me, the more I want it.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s the point, Sofia.”
She sighed and turned back around, placing her hands deliberately on the counter. She remained upright, though, and I curled one arm around her waist, keeping her in place as I slid my hand back down. I allowed just one finger to slip between her folds, giving her just a little more.