“She’s afraid I’m going to scare you off.”
Unbuttoning Andy’s coat, I tossed it to the sofa before plucking her gloves from her fingers and unwinding her scarf. Taking layers of clothing off of her, even outerwear, was an exquisite seduction, and I barely restrained my desire to throw her over my shoulder and charge for the bedroom.
“Hardly.” Her fingers brushed down the row of buttons on my shirt and settled on my belt buckle. “A few weeks ago, at the bar?” She glanced at me, and I nodded for her to continue. “I’ve been thinking about it. I wish I had worn a skirt.”
“Other than the fact your legs are amazing, and I would have spent the entire night staring at them, why is that?”
“Well,” she whispered, her fingers releasing my shirt’s buttons. “I’ve had this…fantasy.”
Her eyes met mine when the word ‘fantasy’ rolled off her tongue, and they were wide, dark, and deviously twinkling. I swallowed a growl and fought to keep my expression flat. It was stay serious or fuck her where she stood, and I was doing my best to be slightly more evolved.
Slightly.
At least for a few more minutes.
“I’m expecting you to start explaining that comment, kitten.”
Andy tugged my shirt loose, and let it hang open with her hands stilled against my chest. The flame in her eyes brightened and she licked her lips. Maybe bearded hipsters weren’t her type anymore, which was good news because I really wanted to get rid of the overgrown stubble, and I did not want to start shopping for skinny corduroys.
“I had this fantasy about having drinks with you, and talking about minimalistic modern and preservation legislation—”
“You are so weird,” I interrupted. Only Andy would have talking points in her fantasies.
“Maybe.” She smiled, slipping my shirt from my arms. “But we didn’t get to my opinion of laminate, and we didn’t have an aged whiskey, and I would have liked your hand up my skirt, making me come under the table.”
My eyes widened, my mouth hanging open in stunned silence. The oxygen seemed to vanish from the room. She was in my apartment, telling me about her public orgasm fantasies for fuck’s sake, and we both knew the gray area between mentor and apprentice long ago faded to black.
“Have you been thinking about that all this time?” I asked, dropping to my knees and unzipping her boots. My hands stroked up and down the backs of her slim legs while I vacillated between my love and hate for her tight jeans.
“Longer.” She glanced down at me with a smirk.
She thought I was in control. If she knew anything of my misery in the past weeks, she would know the inaccuracy of that sentiment, and gazing at her from my knees only cemented reality for me.
Her effect on me was profound, and it terrified me. I didn’t understand Andy. I couldn’t explain what she wanted. A small part of me knew she’d never truly reveal herself to me. It would always be breadcrumbs.
“How long?” Standing, I anchored my hands to her hips and narrowed my eyes at Andy. Her hands dropped to my belt and my pants hit the floor.
“Since the day I met you. When you interviewed me.” Her fingers scratched down my chest, and the predatory smile playing on her lips had me hard in a matter of seconds.
I nodded, and yanked her soft black sweater over her head while I attempted to recover from her revelation. Her breasts came into focus from their seats in her smooth graphite bra, and my need to free those beauties and bury my face between them eclipsed my attempts to figure Andy out.
After tossing the gray fabric over my shoulder, I cupped her breasts, my thumbs circling her small, mocha nipples until they hardened against my palm. She arched forward into my hands, her fingers clawing at my waist as her breath hitched. Another wave of her soul-stirring lavender scent hit me when my nose coasted over the rise of her breast.
I groaned against her nipple when her flavor seeped into my senses. She tasted like warmth, honey, sex, and tart cherries. Her fingers tugged at my hair while I sucked that hard little gem into my mouth and I was dizzy with want.
“Bite it,” she hissed. “I want your teeth.”
My tongue traced her nipple before my teeth skimmed over her skin, scraping the tender flesh repeatedly while my hand mimicked my actions on her other breast.
“I saidbite.”
Whatever the opposite of docile was, Andy was it. If I believed for a second that she’d obediently take my directions, I was further along in my insanity than I initially thought. She was aggressive in her concise, pointed way, and she was content to make demands and argue about my technique while standing in the middle of my apartment, half-naked.
I fucking loved it.
Releasing her nipple with a sharp pull that elicited a throaty moan, I turned to meet Andy’s eyes. “You’re a dirty little kitten, aren’t you?”
“Maybe. Is that a problem?”
