Constructing Us (New Adult Romance)

by Lake, C. J.

  Tragan tipped his head toward the ceiling. “C’mon, Andy. Don’t make a guy guess; you could end up with the new Madden.”

  She had to laugh. “God, no. Fine, okay, um…how about a cookbook? Maybe some type of Asian cuisine? I’m trying to push myself. Oh! Also, don’t forget, my mom’s having a birthday dinner at her house next week. I want everyone to meet you.”

  “Of course. I’d never miss your party. Though your mom already met me, remember?”

  “Not as my boyfriend,” Andy said.

  “Does she know yet? About you and me?”

  Guiltily, Andy bit her lip. “Not yet. She’s just about finished reeling over losing Brad. I didn’t want to spring anything on her too soon.”

  “Don’t you think your sister might have told her anyway?”

  “No, Emma wouldn’t do that. She knows I’ll handle it. Anyway, I’m going to tell my mom about us before the dinner, I promise.”

  “Okay,” Tragan agreed casually and lowered his head to kiss her. As she kissed him back, Andy felt her pulse quicken and body temperature rise. Her fingers curled into the collar of his shirt, as she softly moaned into his mouth, craving more of him. His hands roamed lower, settling possessively on her butt. When their lips broke apart, Tragan said, “I’m obsessed with your ass. Have you noticed that?”

  “No,” Andy replied honestly. She expelled a frustrated sigh and rested her forehead against his chest. “Stupid headache last night,” she mumbled into his shirt.

  “How are you feeling today?” Tragan said suddenly. “All better?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she assured him, breathing in his scent. “Just wish we had more time now. But I told Emma I’d be there by ten.”

  Tragan didn’t pull away. “You’re right, I guess we don’t have time,” he admitted, his voice huskier.

  Mutely, Andy nodded--though she didn’t pull away, either. After a moment, she said, “Well…how fast can you be?”

  At that, Tragan gave a deprecating grin, tipping her face toward his. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Hmm,” Andy said after a moment, running her hands down his chest and walking him back toward the armchair.

  Next, she ran her hand on his crotch, assertively stroking his cock through his jeans. Feeling it hard and full turned her on even more, and sent heat pulsing between her legs. “Andy…” he whispered thickly, grasping for her ass again.

  “Maybe we don’t have time for everything…” Impatiently, she unbuttoned his jeans and jerked his zipper open--before nudging him to sit down. Tragan complied automatically, falling into the chair and gazing at her with blatant desire. “…but I can’t help myself right now,” she finished in a breathy, aroused voice, before dropping to her knees.

  “Andy,” Tragan sighed again, sliding his fingers into her hair and groaning as her lips touched his naked cock. His eyes closed as she took him inside her mouth. He was already rock-hard and throbbing. With a soft moan, she sucked him a little harder, while continuously running her tongue on him. “Jesus, Andy…” he rasped, sounding completely lost.

  She kept going until he was nearly panting. “Do you like that?” she asked flirtatiously, knowing the answer.

  “Yes,” he whispered hoarsely. “God, baby, suck me like that…”

  Instead of sliding his cock back in her mouth, she licked the tip, swirling her tongue lazily--suggestively--until Tragan’s fingers tightened in her hair and he made a rumbling sound of arousal as he pushed his hips forward, trying to bring himself deeper into her mouth. She readily took the hint, burying her head in his lap, taking him so deep that he touched the back of her throat. Tragan went crazy for that, pumping his hips, twisting his hand in her hair, and muttering guttural pleas for more. Desperately aroused, Andy moaned as she gave him what he wanted. Until, abruptly, Tragan set a hand on her shoulder. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” he warned in a rushed voice.

  When Andy’s eyes traveled up, she found Tragan looking helplessly down at her, his dark eyes intense, savage. Though his warning was considerate, she ignored it and drove him in as far as she could take him. Her eyes slid closed as she sucked and licked him aggressively--until Tragan groaned loudly, shuddering as he climaxed and pulsing relentlessly into her hot, hungry mouth.

  “Oh, man,” Tragan breathed afterward, slumping against the back of the chair.

  After a dazed second or two, Andy licked her lips. With a dreamy sigh, Andy rested her cheek against his thigh. “That will have to hold me over till later.”

  He gave a weak-sounding chuckle at that. “C’mere.” Pulling her up, she eagerly climbed into his lap and settled against his chest. Still breathing raggedly, Tragan buried his head in her neck and murmured, “What am I going to do with you?”

  Smiling contentedly, Andy replied, “Like I said…later.”

  ~

  “Holy shit! What the hell happened?”

  “What?” Tragan said, confused, as the front door swung shut behind his friends. Bardo and Matt were traipsing in behind Pellican--who spun his head around, still expressing his alarm. “It looks like a bomb hit!”

  Tragan reacted with a scoff. “What are you talking about?”

  “Um, hello--yellow pillows? That rug? Flowers on the coffee table now?” Pellican yelped. Suddenly he began sniffing the air. “And what’s that overpowering girly smell in here?”

  With a brusque laugh, Matt said, “I think you might’ve already answered that.”

  Pellican’s eyes grew wider at the revelation. “Wait, the flowers are real? That’s not even some Pottery Barn shit? Oh, man, I’m pretty sure that’s even worse.”

  “So I bought Andy some flowers,” Tray said defensively. “So what?”

  “What did you get her flowers for?” Bardo asked curiously.

  Because I love her was Tragan’s immediate thought. “Because I felt like it.”

  Bardo said, “I have to say, Tray, this place really has…” He made a mystical sort of motion with his fingers. “…a woman’s touch.” Then he clapped Tragan on the arm. “It’s nice, bro.”

  Pellican shot Bardo a disbelieving look. “Dude--there’s a giant yellow rose in the middle of the floor.”

  Briefly Bardo followed his friend’s gaze toward the area rug, but seemed preoccupied with something else entirely. Shaking his head, he remarked, “Man, I can’t believe Tray has a girlfriend and we don’t.” Then he looked from Matt to Pellican and said, “What are we doing wrong?”

  “Speak for yourself, Bardo,” Pellican was quick to reply. “I’ve got plenty of ladies.”

  “In Boston?”

  “What I mean is, I know lots of chicks who’d be interested in a relationship--if I was interested.”

  “Well, okay, but you’ve failed to produce any of them--ever,” Bardo mentioned offhandedly.

  “They’re very private people, okay?”

  “All right, ass-clowns,” Matt interrupted, rolling his eyes and slicing his hand across the air. “Enough. Can we get started?” He turned his head toward Tragan. “Tray, you said we have a lot to do here, right?”

  “Yes. Luckily Andy will be out all day so we have time to set everything up. I was able to get her sister’s number off her phone last week, and she agreed to keep her busy for me. We have till seven-thirty, then I’m leaving to go pick Andy up and bring her back here.”

  “Should we get the thing out of my truck yet?” Matt asked.

  “No, no, first we have a ton of stuff to do here,” Tragan said. “All right, so--”

  “Oh, my God, where’s the Xbox!” Pellican blurted, shooting a panicked look in the direction of the television. “The Playstation? The Wii? Holy shit, where are the consoles?!”

  “They’re still in the cabinet there, relax!” Tragan barked. “You just need to slide the doors open when you want to play something.”

  With a blatant sigh of relief, Pellican clasped his chest. “Dude, they should always be in plain view.”

  “I hate to agree,” Bardo chimed in, n
odding and offering an apologetic look, “but it’s true. A guy wants to see his gaming options as soon as he enters someone’s domicile.”

  “‘Domicile’ now?” Matt echoed, sounding mildly amused.

  “It means ‘home,’” Bardo explained. “I’m trying to expand my vocabulary.”

  “Fine, fine, I’ll take the Xbox out later,” Tragan interrupted just to appease them.

  “So I don’t get it,” Pellican declared, continuing with the obnoxious tone he’d arrived with today. “Is the theme of this place now: ‘I’m so happy Andy’s having sex with me, I’ll let her do whatever she wants to my bachelor pad’?”

  Now Tragan was pissed.

  “Shut the hell up, Pellican,” he said in a sharp tone. “Either help or go. But don’t say another fucking word about Andy.” The room was rendered uncomfortably silent for a moment. Tragan didn’t lose his temper often, but if he did, he could glare right through you and he wouldn’t back down. And his friends knew that. “Are we clear?” he added, looking confrontationally at Pellican.

  It didn’t take long for Pellican to back off. Casting his eyes to the side, he mumbled, “Look, sorry, man. I, uh, guess I just lost it with the consoles.”

  “It’s cool, forget it,” Tragan said. Honestly, he didn’t have time for petty bullshit today. Not if he wanted to get Andy’s birthday surprise perfect. Besides, he knew Pellican was a hothead who could run off at the mouth until he was put in check. No harm done as long as they dropped this whole rant on Andy’s decorating and got to work.

  “So where do we start?” Bardo asked.

  “Follow me.” As he turned around, Tragan said over his shoulder, “Hey, I appreciate your help with this.”

  “Sure,” Matt said.

  “No problem,” Pellican agreed.

  “All right,” Tragan said, leading the way. “Now we have a lot to do…”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  “Can I look yet?”

  “No,” Tragan replied, leading Andy through the front door. He was walking behind her with his hands on her upper arms. “I’ll tell you when.”

  “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly, her eyes squeezed shut as she stepped carefully into the apartment. By the way they headed straight, then curved to the right and kept going, Andy could tell they were crossing the living room, and moving in the direction of Tragan’s bedroom. But she couldn’t even begin to guess what this was about; he’d sprung it on her that he had a surprise for her not five minutes ago, when they reached the third floor landing of their building.

  “All right, not yet,” Tragan said quickly, taking her hand. “Wait. Let me turn the light on. Okay--now.”

  It took a second for Andy to blink and process her surroundings. “Oh, my gosh…” she whispered, “What is this…?”

  They were standing inside Tragan’s bedroom now, though it almost wasn’t recognizable. His futon bed was folded up into a couch. Along another wall stood his desk, which was mostly cleared off. Beside his closet door was still Tragan’s dresser, and the center of the room was open. The greatest, most dramatic addition to the room was a huge wooden bookcase lining the wall across from where Tragan and Andy stood.

  “Since we spend every night together in your room, I figured I don’t really need this bedroom anymore,” he told her. “So I converted it into a reading room for you. My friends helped me clear out all my crap. Though I still have my clothes in here and some stuff in the closet, but the rest of the space is for you.”

  “Tragan…” she whispered, feeling overwhelmed.

  “Do you like it?” Tragan asked in a low voice that sounded hopeful.

  Suddenly struggling to grab her breath, Andy couldn’t find words at first, as her eyes roved around the room--always falling back to the bookcase. Unwittingly, she moved across the room toward it, and Tragan followed. Standing about five feet tall and six feet wide, it looked thick and sturdy, and gleamed beautifully with a dark, lacquered finish. “It’s gorgeous!” she breathed, reaching out to touch the first shelf, then turned her face toward his. “I can’t believe you did all this. And this bookcase is unbelievable.”

  “Good, it’s all for you,” Tragan said, running his hand down her back.

  Andy’s mouth was still curved open, her eyes wide. “Did you make this?” Normally she wouldn’t have assumed something like that, but she remembered the beautiful craftsmanship of the coffee table and couldn’t help wondering.

  “Yes. I almost didn’t finish in time,” Tragan admitted with a half-smile.

  “But when--how--”

  “Well, you know how I’ve had to ‘work late’ a lot over the past week or so? I was actually working on this--at Matt’s. He kept it for me there. Listen, I’m sorry I was dishonest about the work thing, but I really didn’t want you to figure out what I was doing.”

  Andy almost laughed. Touching his chest, she said, “Tragan, I would never guess something like this. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” she told him, again looking adoringly at the bookcase. That was when she noticed that the shelves were empty except for one thin book to the far left. “What’s that?” she said, stepping closer. When she pulled the book out, she shot him a grin. “A Beginner’s Guide to Taiwanese Cooking,” she read, eying Tragan, who was watching her.

  “You said something Asian,” he explained. “I picked it up at the bookstore this morning, after you left.”

  “Thank you. It’s just so clean in here!” she blurted, still in disbelief.

  With a short laugh, Tragan said, “Like I said, my friends helped me. It wasn’t a cake-walk; I’m not going to lie.” Suddenly he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Happy birthday, baby,” he murmured softly and kissed her.

  “But this is all too much.”

  “Nothing’s too much for your birthday,” he assured her, kissing her again.

  “My birthday’s not for three days,” she remarked when their lips parted, though she wasn’t sure why she bothered saying that.

  “I know, but that’s part of the surprise. I surprised you, right?”

  “Oh, my God, are you kidding me?” Andy gushed as tears filled her eyes. “This is the most incredible surprise ever. I--” She was about to say “I love it,” but what burst out instead was the brave, unfiltered truth. “I love you,” she told him. At the words, Tragan’s expression became more serious. Andy was quick to add: “You don’t have to say anything--”

  “I love you, too,” he blurted, bringing his hands to her jaw. Tragan held her face tenderly, as he gazed into her eyes. Then their mouths collided. This time his kiss wasn’t sweet--it was passionate and possessive--and so was hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her fingers into his hair, as their mouths mated and her tongue moved hungrily against his. Raw desire sparked between them, blurring everything else but the physical need they felt for each other.

  Abruptly, Tragan scooped Andy up in his arms and began carrying her out of the room. As turned on as she was, she tried to be funny. “Don’t you want to christen the futon?” she teased as Tragan crossed the threshold out of the room.

  “No.”

  Without another word, he brought her to her room--their room--and laid her on the bed. Though they stripped quickly, when Tragan fell along side her, he made love to her with a slow intensity--burning her up decadently, unbearably. After he’d worked her into an aroused frenzy with his tongue and hands, he slid a condom on and drove inside her.

  Still, he didn’t rush. He kept in control, moving languorously, determined to draw this out. Soon Andy was begging for the sweet torture to go on and end at the same time.

  Then passion broke harder. They ran their hands everywhere, claiming their territory, whispering words of love, and grinding into each other. They’d started with Tragan on top, but then switched--rolled around and switched again. The sex went on until they were both edged with sweat and left shaken.

  Afterward they lay together, entwined and still connected. It
was such a heated and yet emotional experience, Andy couldn’t quite catch her breath at first, or even come to terms with the intensity of her feelings. It was like Tragan knew, too, but didn’t know what to say, either. They loved each other, and maybe Andy was naïve, but she just assumed something this incredible would have to last.

  ~

  On Monday afternoon, Tragan was installing a stair railing while his crew hammered loudly in the foyer below, when he received an unexpected call. Ethan? Man, it had been a while since he’d talked to Ethan, or even recalled that he used to be his roommate. In a strange way, he supposed, Tragan had half forgotten his life before Andy. Mildly curious--but not exactly hurrying to answer--he brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Tragan. It’s Ethan.”

  “How’re you doing?” Tragan said, setting down the brackets he’d been holding in his palm. “How’s England?”

  “Everything is going really well,” Ethan stated. “How’s it going in the apartment? With Andy?”

  Since Tragan wasn’t sure how much Andy had told Ethan about their relationship, if anything, he kept it vague. “Great. No problems at all.”

  “Good. I told you Andy was a sweetheart.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Tragan agreed, the corner of his mouth turning up at the mention of Andy--at the knowledge that she was his sweetheart.

  “Well, I’m calling about our lease. It occurred to me that the renewal will be coming soon, and I want to make sure that I formally sign the ‘opt out’ portion so there are no misunderstandings with the landlord. So everything is official.”

  “Okay…” Tragan said, not sure of Ethan’s point. Also, though he’d temporarily forgotten about Ethan Field, his former roommate’s starchy, uptight demeanor was all coming back to him now.

  “To clarify,” Ethan continued, sounding precise, “I’ll be moving into a new flat next month, so I just wanted to make sure you had the correct address. I wondered: when the renewal comes, would you send me a copy? After I sign it and have it notarized, I’ll mail it directly to the landlord.”