Holy shit.
As I sat back down at the table, Andrew only squeezed my thigh. I went on autopilot. I could charm a crowd of a hundred rich people who paid ten thousand dollars a plate without blinking; a small table at Mabel’s was nothing.
Before long, Andrew and I were walking back to the bed-and-breakfast, his hand in mine.
This couldn’t be real life. It couldn’t.
Well, of course it couldn’t. It wasn’t. But I could pretend. Until Monday, in any case.
“Are you okay? That phone call looked stressful.” Andrew passed his thumb over the back of my hand a couple of times. “Though it did great things to your hair.”
“My hair?”
Andrew grinned over at me. “Yeah, you kept running your hands through it. Now, it’s all fluffed up and windswept, like you’ve been on a motorcycle or something.”
I dug my fingers through it. Sure enough, it was huge. Well, shit. “Sorry. I didn’t realize that was happening.”
“Sorry?” Andrew halted and lifted his free hand to my hair, paused nervously, then ran his fingers through it. “You were hot before, but this is much better. A little wilder, and though I can’t believe it’s even possible, sexier.”
I tried to focus on his words, but the feel of his fingers in my hair was a little bit of heaven, especially after stress-land with my father.
Andrew gave another soothing stroke, then lowered his hand and started walking again. It took me a second to focus on his words. It was all I could do to keep from asking him to just keep doing that. To never stop.
“You’re okay after that phone call? Anything you have to take care of?”
“Oh yeah, it was just my—” Boss? Did I say boss? That would lead to questions. To things I couldn’t say or things I’d have to lie about. “Uhm, my dad. It was my dad. You know how dads can be.”
A laugh exploded from him. “I sure do. You saw mine in full glory tonight. Which I’m so sorry about.”
I felt the stress drain from my shoulders. Minefield avoided. “I liked your dad. He’s fun. And Regina too. They actually seem more like a couple, and your mom and Patrick seem—” I realized what I’d just said. I really wasn’t on my game. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean—”
He waved me off with his free hand. “Oh, don’t be sorry. Everyone says that. Mom and Patrick are best friends. They grew up here. Regina and Dad are, well, they’re Regina and Dad.”
I really had liked Andrew’s father. Actually, I’d liked them all. It was so easy, so warm. Andrew’s dad clearly drove his mom crazy, but it was evident she loved him. And loved Andrew. It was different. Nice. Even as I started to say the next words, my brain told me to shut up, but I seemed incapable of walls at the moment, or at least common sense. “Your dad’s kinda gay.”
Andrew laughed again. “Not the first time I’ve heard that either. Dad is very open about his flower-child past and free-love ideals, even if he was born a little too late to have taken full advantage of that.”
“So, do you think your parents—” Andrew’s expression cut me off.
“I thought the plan for tonight was some mind-blowing fucking. If that’s going to be possible, we need to keep my parents’ sex life, whatever it looks like, as far from my mind as possible.”
I chuckled. “That’s a very good point. And fair. No more parent talk. At all.” Good on so many levels.
“Deal.”
I’d promised myself I was going to take my time during my last night with Andrew. Remove every article of clothing slowly, caress every single inch of him as it was revealed. Memorize every freckle, smell, sigh, whatever I could use to pull him back to me over the years to come.
Maybe it was the effect of my father’s call, but that plan went out the window. Not that it mattered. I suddenly had more time. I could go slow later. At the moment, I just needed release. I needed his touch. I needed every bit of his body stripped and under me as fast as humanly possible.
As soon as I shut the door, I fell on him like he was my final meal. I went for his belt. “I’ll handle your pants. You’d better do your shirt, so I don’t ruin the buttons, but fair warning, if you’re too slow, I’m ripping it off you.”
Andrew let out a nervous laugh as I pulled at his belt. “Oh, you’re serious.”
I spared a moment to look him in the eyes. “Yeah. Now get naked. I need in you.”
There was a flash of something in those blue depths, and it took me a heartbeat to realize it was disappointment. He’d already looked away and started unbuttoning his shirt.
I grabbed his hand, stopping him. “Wait. What’s wrong?”
Andrew shook his head and gave me a forced smile. “Nothing.”
“Hey.” Abandoning his belt, I lifted his chin gently. “What is it?”
He let out a breath. “Nothing. You’ll think I’m a…”
“A what?”
He shook his head again. “Nothing.”
Maybe something had changed. I’d done something, said something wrong on the way to my room. I didn’t think so, but maybe. “Do you not want to do this?”
He gave a grunt and then an embarrassed grin. “God, yes, I want to do this.”
“Well, then, what’s wrong?”
He blushed that Andrew blush that did so many, many dirty things to my body and such dangerous things to my heart. “Well, it’s your last night in town. At least until you come back, so I was hoping…” His words trailed off.
I pushed aside the coming back aspect. If I thought about it for even a second, I wouldn’t be able to go. “You were hoping for something slower, taking our time.”
“Yeah.” He bit his lip and stared at the floor. “Cheesy, huh?”
Well, shit. It seemed his blush wasn’t the only thing that did stuff to my heart. I lifted his chin again. “I was actually thinking the same thing, but my plans changed.”
He looked leery, so I rushed ahead.
“I extended my trip until Monday, so we have a couple more days. Thought maybe we could check out some of the nearby towns. Maybe visit the palisade in person. I mean, I know you have to work, but I can—”
“Seriously?” He looked like I’d handed him a Christmas present when there’d been none left under the tree.
“Yeah. If you’re okay with that.”
“Of course I’m okay with that. And—” His smile turned shy, which considering how he’d let me fuck him the night before, was utterly charming. “—while you were on the phone at dinner, Regina told me to take a couple days to be with you. I turned her down, since you were leaving, but I know she’d still be okay with it.”
Even better than I’d hoped. “Perfect.” As was everything about the man. There had to be a catch somewhere. Had to be. I knew mine, and it was huge. His probably was too. I pushed that away. It was just until Monday.
I shoved that to the side as well.
He began to nearly rip at his buttons. “Then never mind. Let’s get this show on the road!”
I laughed, but my desire had changed as I watched him. His emotions and feelings were so transparent across his face. I’d seen what he’d needed originally, what he’d wanted, and though it scared the shit of me, I needed to give it to him. Hell, I wanted it too.
Dropping my hands to his, I held his fingers still over the buttons, then stepped into him, and kissed him deeply, slowly. Just lips at first. Pressure and heat. Then my tongue. He sighed, and I could taste the wine on his breath.
We were back at the window looking out on the palisade. Back to a sensation I’d never had before, but now there it was again. Twice in the same day. There was no world. No father, no coffee corporation, no San Francisco. Nothing but Andrew. He was it. All else, good and bad, fell away except for him.
The feeling was unsettling, terrifying. Like the world shifting under my feet, the ground breaking up, and knowing I was going to fall sort of terrifying. Yet some part of me, maybe a suicidal part, wanted to plunge in headfirst.
So I did.
I to
ok over the job of the remaining buttons, never breaking our kiss as I slid each one free, then pulled the fabric over his shoulders, and down his arms until his skin was fully exposed. As my tongue explored his mouth, I ran my hands over his body, making my way over his smooth skin and hard muscles, lingering through the hair over his chest which led me down his stomach to where I began working on his belt and pants again.
I hadn’t even realized Andrew had been doing the same to the buttons of my shirt until I felt him try to tug my arms free. I finally broke the kiss and stepped back just enough to get out of my shirt. I moved on to my pants and shoes. Andrew followed suit, and within a minute, we were both naked. I reached out and traced the tattoo over his heart with my fingertip. The right side was curving lavender flowers, the left a blue wave. “Does this represent Lavender Shores?”
Andrew laughed softly. “I wanted slow but not story-time slow. I’ll tell you sometime when my mouth isn’t desperate to wrap around your dick.” He glanced down, then back up, that strange mix of desire and shyness playing across his features. “Though, I honestly can’t imagine my mouth ever wanting to do anything else.” He sank to his knees and enveloped me in wet heat.
I’d wanted to kiss him again but got lost in the feel of his mouth on me. Instinctively I ran my fingers through his thick hair, curling them into the silky mess and taking charge. Fucking his face, slow measured thrusts allowing his tongue to bathe my shaft, then pushing in deep to feel the back of his throat.
He readjusted his angle, allowing me to slide all the way in. With both hands clenched in his hair, I held him there, reveling in the sensation of being buried in him. At the smallest gagging sound, I released him. He pulled back, but not all the way, sucked in a breath, then sank back down, one hand running up and down my left leg, the other moving over my stomach, up to tease a nipple, then to the other, causing me to tremble with need.
As much as I’d wanted to go slowly, I wasn’t going to last. The day had been too much. The steady and constant need for him. The buzzing that seemed to overtake my entire body when he was near. The heady confusion of my world shattering whenever our lips met.
“I’m going to come if you keep that up.”
Andrew bobbed his head one more time, one deliberately long, slow time, and then stood, making me wish I hadn’t said anything so his mouth would still be on me. “Good. I’m not going to last long right now either, and I want to ride you.” He pointed to the bed. “Lie down.”
Though I knew he’d meant it as a direction, I heard the question in his tone, the hesitance to tell me what to do. And fuck, if that wasn’t hot as shit. “Let me get the stuff and I will. You can use my cock however you want.”
There was a broken moan as I turned toward my suitcase, and I couldn’t help but thrill at his reaction to me. At his desire for me.
Being wanted, chased after wasn’t new. But Andrew not only desired my body, he wanted me. Even though he didn’t really know me. That, I wasn’t used to. Even more? I wasn’t used to wanting someone either. I craved everything Andrew Kelly was.
I managed to push such thoughts away as I retrieved the condoms and lube. Then keeping my promise, I crossed to the bed and stretched out on top of the covers. Andrew didn’t move for a moment; he just stood there staring, and I loved it. As he watched, I made a show of ripping open the condom wrapper, then stroking my dick. Whether he realized what he was doing or not, Andrew began pumping his cock in time with me.
Thank God for going slowly. Two more days or not, I wanted to hold onto this sight forever. Andrew’s tall, muscled body, radiant in the dim glow, with the lightest sheen of sweat. The flexing of his muscles catching the light, causing him to glisten.
“You’re gorgeous, Joel.” Andrew’s voice was little more than gravel and lust.
“You should see yourself.” I dropped my hand away, realizing I was going to shoot just watching him. “Thought you said something about riding me. Or was that some Lavender Shores expression that means something less erotic than I thought?”
Andrew scoffed but let go of his dick and walked to the bed. He reached for the lube as he climbed up. “There you go making fun of us locals. Not a good plan if you’re planning on fitting in when you’ve moved.”
I ignored the sting of those words, desperate to have this moment. Just this moment. “You can be as Lavender Shores as you need to be when you’re riding my dick. Just restrain from singing one of the country ballads you love so much.”
He’d snagged the condom from my grasp and had it poised above my erection as he straddled my legs, but he paused to lift a playful brow. “Really, even if I was humming some Tim McGraw song? You could pretend he was on you instead of me?”
“Why the fuck would I want anyone on me instead of you?”
Both of us froze.
I think part of me must have thought those words would come out like a joke. They hadn’t. A ring of truth made the sentiment possibly the truest thing I’d ever said.
But it was true. So fuck it.
“Well, seriously, Andrew. You should see yourself right now. There’s nowhere to go up from here.”
Andrew dropped the condom to the bed and covered my body with his, capturing my mouth.
Like second nature, my arms wrapped around Andrew, holding him tight.
And like every time before when we kissed, nothing but Andrew Kelly. Nothing at all.
As we kissed, I became aware of a wetness on my cheek. It only took a moment to recognize, but I looked anyway. Andrew’s eyes were squeezed shut, and tears streamed down his face.
I pulled him tighter and deepened the kiss.
His erection was smashed against mine, and he began to thrust against me as we kissed.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and built a rocking motion to match his thrusts.
Within seconds, I let out a cry into Andrew’s mouth, the friction of our bodies, the intensity of our kiss, too much to keep my orgasm at bay.
Andrew didn’t stop kissing me, but increased his thrusts, using my come as lubricant. The slickness of him against me after my orgasm went from pleasure to pain within a matter of three or four thrusts, all of it suddenly too much for my overly sensitive dick. I ignored it, not a bit of the discomfort mattered, and focused everything I had on our kiss. On the saltiness of the tears. On losing everything I was and everything I’d ever been to this man. We were by the window again, the purple flowers dancing with the sea. We were in my bed, my heart racing with the need for him and shattering with the looming loss of him. And then he too cried out, finally breaking the kiss as he arched back, ropes of come shooting between us with thrust after thrust after thrust, covering my chest and stomach, splashing against my chin and throat. Andrew trembled above me, muscles taut with tension, and then he collapsed beside me with a shuddering sigh.
He panted for several moments, more spent than I, then curled into me and laid his head on my chest. “I love you.”
We froze. Both of us. The barely whispered words hanging like icy daggers, ready to rip us apart.
I wasn’t sure what to do, but after a moment, I turned my head, the scraping of my hair over the pillowcase bellowing in the silent room, and attempted a smile. “I’ll be right back. Let me get us a towel.”
His hand grasped my arm before I could move. “Joel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I’m so, so sorry. You must think—”
I kissed him. I couldn’t let him finish that thought, and I didn’t want to hear him apologize or take it back. The kiss wasn’t long or passionate. Just enough to get him to stop talking. I pulled back and looked into his panicked eyes. “No need to be sorry. You’re hardly the first to utter those words after an orgasm.”
“But I’m sorry. Please don’t—”
“Stop.” I forced a smile. “We’re good. Really. You look worried. Don’t be worried.”
“I don’t want to freak you out.”
I almost laughed. He wasn’t freaking me out. I was. “You’re
not. I promise.” I shifted, and he released his grip. “I’ll get a towel and be right back.”
After sliding out of the bed, I hurried around it and entered the bathroom. I took a moment to wipe off my thoroughly covered body and carefully avoided looking in the mirror. If I did, I might have to admit what freaked me out was that I’d nearly repeated the words back to him.
And that couldn’t happen. Not after a day.
Not when there were only days left.
I took another towel, wet it with warm water, and returned to the bedroom.
Nine
Andrew
I’d nearly gotten teary again as Joel wiped my body with the damp towel. Which was beyond ridiculous. I’d had guys clean me off before, but the way Joel did it, with such tenderness, not like he was worried he’d break me, but simply so attentive. It wasn’t a quick swipe and toss of the towel.
He was gentle, and I was a hot fucking mess.
It was clear he knew that. Joel got back into bed, wrapped his arm around me so my head was on his chest, and didn’t say a word. He had to know I was close to breaking.
I nearly offered to leave. I probably should’ve. Who the fuck wanted to spend the night with a man who pronounced love after only twenty-four hours? I was fairly certain he’d also realized I’d been crying during sex. Again, hot mess. I’d never done that before.
I could pretend I didn’t know what was going on in my mind. That I wasn’t reacting to multiple rejections and breakups. That the magic of the cabin and how he made my body feel wasn’t messing with my mind. But all that was obvious. I did, however, need to pretend I hadn’t felt those words to the depths of my soul when I’d said them.
I loved Joel.
Even as I listened to his heartbeat, I knew that wasn’t true. I couldn’t love him. I didn’t know him. However, my body and my soul were choosing to ignore that fact.
I should get up and leave before I was damaged forever. Before he got up the nerve to ask me to leave his bed.
Joel laughed softly, the rumble in his chest loud in my ear. It cut off quickly, and then a louder one burst from him.
The Palisade (Lavender Shores) Page 8