Page 52 of Renting Romance

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Chapter Eighteen

Andrew pulled Susan between his legs, not easing up on the kiss. She molded her body to his, every inch of contact searing across his skin and burrowing deeper. He was fucking tired of fighting this attraction. He tugged her head back, to suck a line down to her collarbone. The way she shifted against him pressed buttons he didn’t know he had. How was this possible? This intoxicating woman made him feel like a teenage boy with out of control hormones. The only clear thought he had was about fucking her.

He traced his tongue up the side of her neck. She even tasted like cookies. When he pushed up the bottom of her shirt, she dug her fingers into his arms with a whimper. His dick begged to be free, straining against his jeans to be closer to the heat taunting him. He grabbed sufficient rational thought to look her in the eyes. Clear. Blue. Captivating…

“This doesn’t change anything between us. It doesn’t make us a couple. Nothing like that,” he said.

“I know.” She licked her lips, and he wanted to kiss away the shine. Suck on that almost-pout until she couldn’t think.

“Is someone going to walk in on us?”

“Do you care?”

Right now? He only cared about one thing. “I really don’t. You don’t need the grief, though.”

“No one will be home until late. No one’s walking in on us. Don’t you dare try to talk us out of this again. Please?”

This was all he needed to hear. Except maybe a little more of her begging. He dove back in without hesitation, scraping his teeth along her shoulder, then sucking on her neck. He glided a hand under her top and slid his palm up her bare stomach to her breast, to trail his thumb over her bra and the swollen nipple underneath. Each tiny gasp she let out stole more of his reason. He pinched the hard nub through fabric, and she squirmed against him.

It had been ages since an action as simple as making out felt so intense. High school? Had it ever? He couldn’t remember.

She worked a hand between them and moved it below his waist. When she cupped his cock through his jeans—a tentative, teasing touch—he jerked against her. If she decided to grip or stroke, he’d probably come right now.

Outside, evening traffic droned by. Garage doors opened. Neighbors chattered. None of it mattered but what was going on in here. He pushed her clothes out of the way and nibbled through the lace of her bra. Her light giggle spurred him on.

One of the neighbors sounded familiar, and damn their doors were loud.

“What the hell is going on here?” An older male voice shattered the mood.

Apparently this was about to be a lot more like high school than Andrew wanted. Susan back-pedaled several feet, yanking her top down as she moved. Her cheeks flushed from pink to glowing fuchsia in a blink. “Daddy. I thought you had work to do.”

“I needed some paperwork he left at home.” And that was Mercy.

Jesus-fucking-Christ. Andrew summoned a neutral expression, hopped to his feet, and turned to face the new arrivals. They stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the garage. They stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the garage—Dean Rice watching him with a touch of murder in his gaze, and Mercy frowning, arms crossed.

“We were talking. Celebrating.” Susan’s words ran together.

Mercy raised her brows. “Good word.”

“Get the hell out of my house”—Dean took a step forward, speaking between clenched teeth—“or I’ll have the police here so fast—”

“Dad, stop for a minute.” Mercy’s soft tone cut through the rage.

It was one of the rare moments in Andrew’s life he was at a loss for what to say. He wanted to swivel his head back and forth, watching the tennis match.

Dean didn’t look at Mercy when he replied to her. “I don’t have to like who you do business with, but you have no right to bring this filth into my home. Into our lives.”

“Hey now.” Andrew bit his tongue to keep I took a shower before I came over from slipping out.

Mercy blocked her father’s path. “Stop. We’re all adults here.”

Susan touched Andrew’s arm, and a jolt raced through leather and fabric and his skin. “Go. Please?” Her voice was soft.

He’d been wrong—he had no interest in hearing her beg again. Not like this. The simple request beat him down harder than any insult. He didn’t have a right to be hurt, but it dug deep that her first instinct was to push him away. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” He didn’t look at anyone, but turned and walked out the front door. What did he expect? He made it clear to Susan from the start—and as recently as a few minutes ago—they were friends at best. Acknowledging this didn’t ease the ache in his heart.

He wasn’t sinking into this hole. He’d asked for an impetus to keep them apart. This was it. Work waited, and that meant a lot of pussy to look at that wasn’t mired in things like family and daddy issues—he’d review those sites a different day.

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Tags: Allyson Lindt Romance