Scorched (Frigid 2) - Page 31

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And now I was here and Andrea was staring at me like she’d never seen me before. I had no idea what to make of that, but a tense second passed, and then she took a step back, and then another.

I took that as an invitation.

Stepping into her room, I held her gaze. “Tell me it meant nothing to you, and I’ll pretend like nothing happened. Just say the word, Andy. We can forget it ever happened, but if it did—if it meant anything—then there is no way in this fucking world I’m going to act like nothing happened.”

Her chest rose sharply as she lifted her hands, tucking the wild curls back behind her ears. “Tanner, I…it…” Her eyes closed briefly. “It did mean something to me, but—”

“There doesn’t need to be a ‘but’ right now,” I cut in, feeling like I’d just won the damn lottery. How desperate was that? “Okay? We don’t have to—”

“Think past now?” she whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. Her lashes lifted. “I can’t think past now.”

I honestly didn’t know what she meant by that, but then she reached down, wrapping her fingers under the hem of her loose T-shirt. My fucking heart stopped as she lifted the shirt over her head. The material dangled from her fingers and then slipped to the floor.

Andrea wore a white bra, with delicate lace that framed the cups and a tiny bow in the middle. I’d seen her in a bathing suit before, so it should’ve been no big surprise to see her like this now, but it was different. More intimate. Meant more.

I closed the door behind me, breathing heavily¸ as if I’d just run two miles. Unable to pull my gaze from her, I thought I’d probably see nothing more beautiful than right here, right now—seeing her standing there like she was. As much as it killed me, I had to tell that coming to her tonight wasn’t about getting between her legs. “Andrea, I didn’t—”

“Don’t.” Her chest rose with another deep breath, straining the cups. “I don’t think we need to talk.”

“I think we do.” My voice had deepened, turned rougher.

Shaking her head, she walked up to me, each step slow and purposeful. I was rooted where I stood. She stopped when her feet brushed mine. “I don’t remember kissing you before.” Her eyes met mine as she tilted her head back. “And you didn’t kiss me earlier.”

“I didn’t.” I barely recognized my own voice.

Andrea placed her hands on my chest and I felt the fine tremor coursing through them. “I want to remember kissing you.”

Damn. “I want you to remember that too.”

She leaned in, her breasts pressing against my chest. The centers of her cheeks flushed pink. “Will you kiss me now?”

Oh man, I’d really had no intentions of any of this when I’d come up here. I had just wanted to talk to her. To clear the air and put it out there—where I stood when it came to us. But I wasn’t a saint. On a good day I didn’t have much willpower, and right now, my restraint snapped like a rubber band pulled too tight.

One hand landed on her hip, and I curled the other around the nape of her neck, tilting her head back further. I lowered my mouth to hers, and this time—yeah, this was a real kiss.

Her mouth was soft under mine, and when her lips parted there was no lingering taste of liquor on that mouth. Hell no, it was a hundred percent all Andrea and she still tasted sweet. She slipped one hand up to my shoulder, her fingers curling into my shirt as I ran my tongue along the seam of her mouth.

She parted her lips, and I delved in. Fuck. Her hot mouth was consuming me. The way she flattened her body against mine was driving me to the edge. And the feel of her warm, bare skin under my hand as I trailed my fingers up the side of her waist was undoing me.

Stretching up on the tips of her toes, she lined up our hips and when she rolled hers against mine, I groaned into the kiss. Like a haze had clouded my thoughts, I was brimming with the need to bring her to pleasure again, to hear those soft cries in my ears and to feel her body break in such a beautiful way once more.

I walked her backward, right up to the bed, and then I guided her down. Cheeks flushed, she stared up at me, her chest rising and falling heavily as she watched me. Reaching around the neck of my shirt, I tugged it over my head and then tossed it behind me.

Andrea’s gaze dipped, and I stood, letting her look her fill. I liked it—fuck, I loved the way she looked at me like she could possibly get off just by staring at me. That was one hell of a boost to the ego right there.

I came to her, planting my knees on either side of her hips and then I slipped my hands along her waist. Lifting her up, I moved her so her legs didn’t dangle off the edge. And then I swallowed her surprised gasp with a kiss as I settled onto my side next to her.

Cupping her cheek with my hand, I turned her face toward me, dragging out the kiss until we both needed to come up for air. “Damn, Andrea, I could live on the taste of your mouth.”

“You’re so full of it,” she whispered, lifting her mouth to mine.

Tightening my grip on her chin, I pulled her mouth from mine. “I’m not full of it.” I smoothed my thumb along her bottom lip. “I’m going to prove it.”

She swallowed. “Then do it.”

One side of my lips kicked up. “Listen to you. All bossy and shit.”

“You’re not proving anything when you’re talking.”

A chuckle rumbled out from me. “Oh, you are so fucking in for it.”


Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Frigid Romance
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