Andino + Haven: The Complete Duet

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Andino + Haven: The Complete Duet Page 17

by Bethany-Kris


  And calling cabs for those who clearly needed one.

  “Take five,” Haven called down to the other bartender. Even if it was last call … “Me and Val can handle this final rush.”

  The girl nodded, and gave a little wave as she left the bar. It was only her second break of the evening, and Haven was sure her feet and hands were tired as hell. She’d more than earned every dollar tonight, though.

  Girl needed a bonus.

  “Is he still here?” Valeria asked.

  Haven looked up from the cups she was wiping out. “Who?”

  “You know who.”

  Oh, yeah.

  Andino.

  Haven’s gaze drifted over the crowd to where Andino had settled himself into table fifteen for a good portion of the night. Now, the table was empty—it had been empty for quite a while. She had sent someone else to deliver his whiskey, and according to the girls on the floor, he’d not asked for another drink after that one.

  “Gone from the table, anyway,” Haven said.

  “Think he’s waiting outside for you?”

  “Maybe, and maybe not. It’s hard to say with Andino.”

  Valeria slipped down the bar, and grabbed one of the clean glasses from Haven with a soft smile. “Okay, better question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you want him to be waiting out there for you?”

  That made Haven stop.

  She hesitated to answer.

  Considered …

  Her answer should have been the easiest thing she ever said—no, I don’t want him to be waiting out there for me after I left him hanging two months ago while I was still wet between my thighs.

  Instead, she found herself saying, “I don’t know, Val.”

  Valeria nodded, and started mixing the drink for a waiting patron. “It’s okay to be confused, you know.”

  “Weren’t you the one who told me to be careful about him?”

  “And I still think you should. I also think if you go into something knowing what you’re doing, then that’s a different story, Haven.”

  Fair enough.

  “I don’t know what I want,” Haven admitted.

  “Yeah, I get that.” Valeria stood up on her tiptoes, and scanned the crowd before shouting out, “Hey, Lachy!”

  The head of the club’s security was quick to cut through the crowd at the sound of his name being called by a bartender. He was good like that—always looking out for any employee regardless if they poured drinks, served them, or worked on a pole. He didn’t care what someone did as long as they were happy doing it, and safe all the while.

  The large man shouldered his way through the people trying to get their last drinks at the bar, and rested his beefy arms on the top. “What can I do for you, Val?”

  She gestured at the entrance. “Could you check outside for me—big guy, but not as big as you, dark, short hair, green eyes, and goes by Andi—”

  “Val,” Haven snapped.

  “Andino,” her friend finished. “We don’t want him gone. We just want to know if he’s out there waiting for Haven. He’s a friend.”

  “Val!”

  Valeria continued ignoring her. “If you wouldn’t mind, Lachy.”

  “Is he trouble?”

  “Define trouble,” Haven muttered under her breath.

  “Harmless to us,” Valeria said, giving Haven a look. “Right?”

  Lachy looked to her as well for an answer. “Well, boss?”

  Haven sighed. “Yeah, he’s harmless. Just a friend.”

  “I’ll check.”

  Once the security was gone, Haven gave Valeria a side-eye that could rival the Devil’s. Her friend only smiled in response.

  “Listen, I have watched you sulk for two months—”

  “I have not been sulking.”

  “When you’re not working, yeah, a little,” her friend returned. “I do just want you to be happy, Haven. And safe.”

  “I’m not sure Andino is safe.”

  Valeria made a noise under her breath. “But is he safe for you? That’s where it counts. That’s where I went wrong way back when.”

  That was a good question.

  Wasn’t it?

  It didn’t take long before Lachy was approaching the bar again, but Haven could tell his answer about whether or not Andino was outside waiting before the man even opened his mouth to speak. He shook his head—nope. Not there at all.

  “Damn,” Valeria murmured. “Sorry, Haven.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Haven just felt … sad.

  And confused.

  It wasn’t fine at all.

  THIRTEEN

  Andino popped a hand down, and let Snaps take the scrap piece of shredded chicken from his fingertips. Just as quickly, the dog went back to his own bowl of food, and worked on the mess in there. Washing his hands again, Andino was just about to set the skillet of shredded chicken on the stove when a familiar tune rang through his house.

  Snaps’ head popped up, he sniffed, looked back at Andino, and then started eating again.

  “Really?” Andino asked. “You’re getting lazy.”

  Some guard dog.

  Andino corrected his inner thoughts as he headed for the entryway—Snaps was a good guard dog, and he was the best protection Andino had considering no one ever saw Snaps coming for their throat until it was too late.

  But inside his house?

  Snaps just wanted to be a dog.

  Usually.

  Andino didn’t even bother to check the window behind the sheer curtains to see who was waiting outside on the front step before he yanked open the door—probably a mistake, all things considered. He might have appreciated the extra two or three seconds to prepare himself for the tornado standing there with blazing blue eyes, and blonde hair streaked with purple and teal.

  Andino hadn’t lied the night before.

  This woman looked good.

  Damn good.

  Skinny jeans that molded to her legs. A trench coat tied tight at her middle to show off that trim, sexy waist of hers. Suede boots with a couple of inches on the heels to add to those long legs she had going on. Her face was mostly clear of makeup, and she’d thrown her hair up into a messy bun. Yet, it all looked effortless, and beautiful.

  Christ, yeah, she looked good.

  “Was there some point to that last night?” Haven asked the second Andino opened the door. “Were you just trying to prove something—was that it?”

  He glanced up at her face—entirely unashamed that she probably watched him check her out—to find she was glaring at him. “I’m sorry?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know, Andino.”

  “I don’t know—”

  Haven’s hand came up to land against Andino’s chest, and then she pushed hard enough to make him take a wide step back inside his house. She was quick to follow behind, and slam the door closed. Once they were inside, she rounded on him again with those blazing eyes intent on burning him to the ground right where he stood.

  Fuck.

  She looked better when she was pissed off.

  He should get her that way more often.

  Snaps came around the corner, and down the hall with his tail wagging damn near to the second he heard Haven’s voice echoing in the house. Had it been anyone else who raised their voice and put their hand on Andino, that dog would have ripped them to shreds.

  But this was Haven.

  Snaps never even growled at her before.

  From the jump, too.

  Like the dog just … knew.

  This woman was something—something amazing, and something important to Andino. They just hadn’t figured out the details yet.

  “Hey, buddy,” Haven greeted the dog, running her hand over the top of his head.

  “He misses you,” Andino said.

  Haven’s gaze narrowed as it landed on him again. “Oh, does he?”

  Ouch.

  Yeah, he heard the heat there.


  “I miss you, too,” Andino admitted.

  Haven’s posture didn’t soften even a little bit. “Why did you show up at my club last night, and then just disappear after like I wouldn’t have questions for you?”

  “Figured I pushed my luck enough just by being there, actually.”

  “That so?”

  Andino shrugged. “Yeah, and probably your good graces, too.”

  Haven’s lips flattened into a grim line. “You didn’t think that after two months of no contact, that should have been a clue for you that there was nothing …” She waved a hand between the two of them, adding, “Here.”

  “A lack of contact doesn’t equal nothing, Haven. All that means was that you got stuck in your feelings about something you didn’t know how to handle, so instead of doing something about it, you chose to do nothing. Well, here we are, and I decided to do something.”

  She stood a little straighter.

  Andino cocked a brow at the challenge he saw reflecting back in her eyes. She was going to deny it, and tell him he didn’t know what he was talking about. He could see it coming before she even let the words slip out of her mouth. Still, he gave her the benefit of being able to say it.

  And then he tore that apart, too.

  “There is nothing, Andino,” Haven snapped.

  He stepped forward—close enough to her that the suede of her trench coat brushed against his bare arms. Those pretty, blazing eyes of hers were all he could see. That, and the camber of her frown. He hated when she frowned.

  “Then why were you so pissed off when I wasn’t there at the end of the night, Haven?”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Weren’t you?”

  Haven snapped her mouth closed, and her gaze darted down to stare at Snaps who was now looking up at them. Deflection, he knew. She didn’t want to look at him because he would find her lies there. This was just easier—easier for her to do if she didn’t have to look at him while she lied to herself.

  Andino inched closer still. “That doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”

  “You need to—”

  “What, stop? Back up? Give you space? You’ve had two fucking months, woman. It’s time to figure it out.”

  Haven’s head snapped up again, and her gaze practically nailed him to the wall. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? I can’t figure any of this out because you didn’t give me the benefit of at least telling me first, so I wouldn’t have to find out what you did, and who you are.”

  Andino grinned. “And what am I?”

  “A drug—”

  “Wrong,” Andino said. “Well, kind of. That’s one of many things, and it falls under an entirely different category.”

  “Stop interrupting me.”

  He waved a hand. “By all means.”

  “And don’t be snarky, either.”

  “You’re making this less fun by the second, Haven.”

  “I just …” Haven squeezed her eyes shut, and let out a hard sigh. “I don’t even know.”

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  “Stop, Andino.”

  He chuckled. “No, I mean … I get not knowing, or being messed up over shit that isn’t clear between us. Listen, my fucking life is crazy right now. This—whatever this is with us—is complicated for more reasons than you even know. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to figure it out, you know?”

  Because he did.

  God, he did.

  Haven didn’t reply, and she looked away again. Andino couldn’t have that. He wanted her looking at him—only at him. At least, when she was doing that, he knew what to expect. He could prepare for her next move, and work accordingly.

  All he wanted was to keep this woman.

  For now, anyway.

  “Haven,” he murmured.

  She still didn’t move.

  Didn’t look at him.

  “Haven.”

  No, even that time didn’t do it.

  Andino’s patience for keeping his distance—as little as there was between them—was gone entirely. He closed that last bit of space, slipped his hands up under Haven’s chin, and dragged her to his body to fit her form tightly against his. A shaky breath left her lips as he tipped her head back, took a single second to stare down into her eyes, and then he was kissing her.

  A hard, bruising kiss.

  The world disappeared.

  It was just him and her.

  She responded back instantly—those lips of hers moving against his in a rhythm they both knew all too well between one another now. She wasted no time fisting her hands into his T-shirt, and holding tight to keep him close. Those lips of hers parted, giving him access to the heaven that was her mouth, and Andino took it.

  God.

  He took it.

  There was something about her mouth that drove him crazy. Something about the way she let him devour and conquer her with every single kiss, and yet, never actually gave up the fight to dominate. There was something in the way her tongue danced with his that spoke more truths about them and whatever this was than she ever did.

  And he didn’t mind.

  Not a bit.

  Her kiss held secrets.

  It hid truths.

  Her kiss woke him up.

  He needed it.

  “Fuck,” Andino groaned, threading his fingers through Haven’s messy bun to let her hair down. “I missed doing that.”

  Her tongue peeked out to sweep her bottom lip, and she watched him through thick lashes. “Did you?”

  “Too much, maybe.”

  “Then, maybe you should do it again.”

  “I fucking plan to—” It was Snaps nudging Andino in the back of his leg that reminded him—yeah, something else was there with them. “Snaps, go to your bed.”

  Haven’s eyes twinkled with mirth even as she pressed her lips to keep from laughing even as the poor dog whined, but did as he was told, anyway. Andino waited until Snaps paws could be heard climbing the stairs before he turned back to Haven.

  “Where was I again?”

  She grinned. “Kissing me.”

  “Yeah, kissing you.”

  “You should do it—now.”

  Andino was still staring at her mouth, and barely holding himself back from doing just that. “As long as you’ll stay when I’m done.”

  Haven’s gaze jumped to his. “Stay.”

  “I’ll even cook for you—that’s what I was doing before you came. Cooking.”

  “You cook?”

  “Quite well,” he murmured.

  Haven nodded. “Okay, I’ll stay after, and you’ll cook for me.”

  That was all he needed to hear.

  Andino closed the distance between them by kissing her harder than before. The force of his action sent Haven moving backwards until her back hit the door. She pressed against the glass as he devoured her mouth, and thrusted his hands into her now-loose hair. Where had the hair tie fallen that she’d used to keep it up? He didn’t even know.

  All Andino cared to think about was her.

  Her, and the way she pressed her lower half into his groin.

  Her, and the smell of her skin.

  Her, and that sweet little gasp she made when he sucked on her neck.

  Her, her, her.

  It was all about her.

  Only a little about him.

  Haven’s breathless laugh lit up the hallway as Andino yanked that trench coat of hers open, and tugged it down her arms roughly. “You’re so fucking impatient.”

  He pulled back to stare at her.

  She was all pink skin, and heaving shoulders.

  Beautiful, really.

  “Do you want me to go slow?” he growled.

  Haven was quick to snap her mouth shut. “Nope.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  Andino’s mouth was back on hers in a blink—tasting her and fighting with her. That’s kind of what kissing Haven felt like to him. As though he were warring and loving all at the same time. A dichotomy i
f there ever was one, but it was one he enjoyed greatly.

  Her fingernails dragged stinging lines down his railroad path of abs when her hand snaked under his T-shirt. Fuck. She was not playing around tonight.

  He liked that.

  “Jesus,” he grunted against her lips.

  Haven smiled in that sexy way of hers. “Pretty sure that’s not my name, Andino.”

  “No, but I am a praying kind of man.”

  Even if God didn’t answer.

  Haven was the one to kiss him that time—things moved a hell of a lot faster at that point because Andino couldn’t wait any fucking longer. He’d been without this woman for two months. Two months too goddamn long, and he didn’t want to hold off for one more second before burying his cock as deep as he could into her cunt.

  Andino kept Haven locked in their kiss even as he pulled her away from the door. Her talented fingers worked at the buttons and zipper on his pants while he yanked and pulled on hers. They only broke apart long enough to shed the clothing between them, but his mouth was on hers again before he even fell back to the couch.

  Haven climbed on him without hesitation—straddling his thighs and swaying her body over top of him in the most mesmerizing way. She ran her fingers through her loose waves of hair, and stared down at him with that knowing grin firmly in place.

  “You want me to ride you?” she asked.

  “For now. Later, we’ll see what flat surface I can bend you over, and how loud I can make you scream.”

  Haven winked, and her fingers circled around his already hard-as-steel dick. Just the pressure of her hand tightening on his cock was enough to make Andino grunt under his breath, and flex his hips upward to get more of that friction on his length. His hands landed on her hips, and his fingertips pressed hard enough to leave bruises behind.

  “Easy there,” she whispered.

  “You don’t like easy.”

  Haven laughed. “I really don’t.”

  She stroked his cock once more, and then she was lifting just high enough so that she could rub the head of him along her slit. She gave him no warning before she dropped down on his length—no second to adjust before he was balls-deep into her, and entirely out of fucking breath.

  Like a punch to his chest.

  A kick to his gut.

 

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