When he pulls back, he looks up at me and licks his lips as though he’s savoring the taste of me. “You taste so fucking sweet, Kenz. A man could get addicted.”
It’s a strange juxtaposition to hear his posh English accent say such dirty things, but I like it. No, I love it and I want more of it.
His hand goes back down into my leggings, and this time when he pushes his fingers into me, he scissors them and drags them out. One hand stays in his hair but my other goes to his shoulder and grips hard. He does the motion again, and I feel his muscles move in his shoulder each time he pulls out of me.
Andrew adds his thumb to the mix, circling it over my clit while he’s inside me. His gaze goes from roaming my face for a reaction to looking down at where his hand disappears into the dark fabric of my leggings. He picks up the pace and takes my nipple between his teeth.
I cry out as the tension grows more taut until I’m panting on the edge of release.
The sound of him fucking me with his fingers is obnoxiously loud but somehow not embarrassing. No, it’s a fucking turn-on how wet I am for him, how wet he makes me.
With every stroke of his fingers against my G-spot, I inch closer to release, and when he presses harder on my clit with his thumb, it’s as though he’s hit the detonator and I explode.
My fingers dig into him as I cry out and spasms cause my body to jerk uncontrollably. Bliss radiates out of every pore and I’m buzzing until my orgasm recedes as he coaxes me down gently with the flutter of his fingers against my clit.
I sit there, eyes closed, while I wait to regulate my breathing. When I open my eyes, Andrew is watching me with heavy lids. He slips his hand free of my leggings and brings his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers without a word or one ounce of self-consciousness.
Before either of us can say anything, his phone rings from where it rests on the arm of the couch beside us. One glance at the screen has me cringing.
“It’s your brother.”
I nod. Talk about a bucket of ice water being thrown on an inferno. The energy shifts, and sensing that this is the end of any further intimacy between us, I shift to the side and slide off of Andrew’s lap.
Andrew lets the call go to voice mail and adjusts his length in his pants with a small wince. Whether it’s because he’s so hard it’s painful and he knows the moment has passed or that my brother in essence interrupted what was absolutely going to be the first time we slept together, I can’t be sure.
Suddenly I feel self-conscious, so I stand and find my bra, putting it on as quickly as possible, then grab my shirt and pull it over my head. “I should probably go. It’s getting late.”
“Kenzie—” He stands from the couch and pushes a hand through his hair.
I raise my hand to cut him off. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“Yes, I do.” He steps forward and grips my shoulders, giving them a small squeeze. “I know I said I didn’t want to move forward physically until we knew for sure that we could make this work. I’m sorry.”
I can’t help but scowl at him. “Andrew, I don’t regret what just happened. Do you?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. It just must be confusing that I say one thing and do another. I’m usually a man of my word.”
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips and I run my fingers through the streak of gray at the front of his hairline. “I don’t regret anything. Except for the fact that my brother called.”
He chuckles and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. “Good, neither do I.”
I nod. Enough said.
“Can I see you home?” he asks.
My head tilts and I frown. “Absolutely not. I can make it home fine on my own. Before you came along, I was able to fend for myself, believe it or not.”
He shakes his head. “Can I at least wait with you until you get on the tube?”
I huff, knowing he won’t give in until he gets his way. “Sure.”
He kisses the end of my nose before going to retrieve our jackets.
When we make it back out onto the street, I swear everything has an extra sparkly quality to it.
Must be Christmas magic.
ChapterTwenty-Three