Page 41 of The Second Dance
I didn’t think twice about inviting Andy, but now that she’s here, it feels strangely intimate. Like I’m showing her more of myself than I intended.
22.
Andy
I’m just here to see his house.
It’s not a booty call.
Even if my heart is racing and my nerves are sparking.
I follow him into his house, getting hit with the scent of dried eucalyptus.
I step out of my sneakers, lining them up by the door before turning to look around. If his dad’s house is pretentious and gleaming, this one is comfortable and welcoming. He’s obviously been working on it. The kitchen looks like it was recently updated. This is one home where farmhouse style will never go out.
I turn to ask him about the subway tile in the kitchen, but I’m caught off guard by how cute he looks now that he’s kicked his boots off.
It’s ridiculous.
I mean, socks aren’t sexy.
Usually.
But he looks cozy and relaxed, and it’s oddly disarming.
He frowns, lips curved into a little lop-sided grin. “What are you smiling about?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “Nothing.”
He walks towards me, closing the distance. “Uh huh.” He tosses his keys on the counter. “Why do I get the feeling it’s at my expense?”
A laugh tumbles off my lips before I can press them together. “It’s just… the socks.”
He looks down at his feet, then back at me with a bemused grin. “You don’t like them?”
He tilts his head, sliding his hand along the counter, until he’s standing in front of me. “Or maybe you do like them.”
I’m pressing my lips together, trying not to laugh.
Trying not to melt from the heat in his gaze.
“You do, don’t you?” He murmurs playfully, a twinkle in his eyes. “Weird kink, Andy. But I’m here for it.”
“Don’t judge.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He puts his hands on the counter on either side of me, caging me in.
My gaze drops to that broad chest and my hand reaches across, drawing down the line of buttons. He leans down, putting his jaw alongside mine, his lips brush my ear. “Can I kiss you?”
His voice is low and sultry. It sends a wave of sparks down my spine. This is a bad idea. Not only is he a cooperator on a work project, we have a history together that we haven’t mended.
But I feel drunk on his voice. The way he smells. My thoughts are hazy with only one real intent, get closer. His breath tickles my neck and I find myself nodding. “Yes, please.”
His nose traces along my cheekbone, and he angles his head, slanting his lips over mine.
When we kiss, my fingers tighten, clutching at his shirt. His hand slips behind my back and he pulls me closer, pressing our bodies together.
Without warning, he puts his hands below my ass and lifts me onto the counter. Strong hands brace against my thighs and push them apart. He slips between my legs, hips dragging my skirt up as he draws close. His hands slide along my bare thighs, scattering my thoughts.