25. Andrie
Andrie
Awarm body woke me.
“Wha—” I murmured, mostly asleep and too tired and relaxed to open my eyes. I recognized that masculine smell anywhere and just wanted to burrow in it.
“Shh,” he said quietly, gathering him to me, his arms a tight band around me, barely a shade past comfortable. “Go back to sleep. I just need to hold you, all right?”
In a blink, I was fully awake. When had Xander’s smell overwritten my memories of Demi’s scent? Before I could focus on that thought, I realized Xander was shaking.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, fighting to turn in his arms so I could look at him. He loosened his grip on me long enough for me to roll into him before wrapping me up even tighter than before.
“Nothing.” He tucked my head under his chin. “I just had a really bad day and needed to feel you. To remember you’re real, and I’m here, not there. If I never have to talk about that hellhole again, it will be too soon.”
I bit my lip to stop myself from asking him to do that very thing.
Maybe Vik was right—nothing good could come from knowing Demi’s last days, weeks, or years.
His thoughts or feelings wouldn’t change what I’d felt for him, and whether he’d loved me still or had completely forgotten about me, it didn’t change the fact that I was allowed to move on.
He was dead, and nothing could change that.
Kissing Xander’s chest, I extricated my arms so I could wrap them around him as best I could, stroking his back.
Demi might have been my past, but Xander was here now.
And the feelings I had for him were growing in a way I never thought I’d experience again.
It was a slower progression this time, unlike the overnight explosion I’d had with Demi, but for the first time, I knew that if I gave my heart a chance, we’d get there.
And I wasn’t sure if that delighted me or terrified me to the core.
“Vik took me shopping this afternoon,” I said, trying to redirect his thoughts to the here and now. “I was hoping we’d spend some time tomorrow decorating if you don’t have plans. Maybe get some practice painting since you promised our help to Boone and Kassie this weekend.”
I froze, realizing I’d stepped in it. It had been clear to me since their first meeting that Xander somehow knew Kassie, though she didn’t have the same reaction to seeing him.
But instead of tensing at the mention of her, he relaxed a fraction, his body molding around mine before he kissed the top of my head. “Kassie was someone I tried to look out for from afar. It’s just nice to see her here and happy,” he explained.
Humming, I settled into the mattress, relieved I hadn’t hit a nerve tonight of all nights.
I’d never been jealous about his feelings, even the first time at the ice cream shop.
I hadn’t sensed a hint of attraction between him and Kassie—unusual, considering Kassie was a former model.
Still, it was a puzzle I’d wondered about.
Boone must have wondered as well, considering he’d asked me about Xander in one of our last sessions.
I’d relayed the same story that I’d given them at Sweet Nothings, but he wasn’t satisfied.
I hoped the invitation to his house meant he’d laid his questions to rest.
“I suppose I could spend the day as your laborer.” For the first time, I could hear a hint of a smile. “But I’m not cheap.”
“As long as I get what I pay for,” I teased, pinching his bicep. I kissed the hollow of his throat when he grunted. I could taste the salt on his skin and smell the scent that was all Xander. Unable to resist, I kissed him again, lingering this time.
“I guess I should ask for partial payment up front,” he mused.
“Isn’t that a normal thing here?” The rumble of his voice tickled my lips, and a grin slipped out.
I trailed kisses down his neck, taking my time and thoroughly enjoying turning the tables on him.
Xander wasn’t a passive man and certainly wasn’t one to lay back and take it, but I was determined to get my way this time.
But before I could get much farther than his collarbone, he moved, rolling until I was on top of him, straddling his growing erection. Then he stood, holding me as if I weighed nothing.
“Xander,” I screeched, dizzy at the sudden spinning.
“Need to wash the day off,” he muttered, hiking me up higher on his waist before walking to my bathroom. “I still feel … grimy.”
I didn’t comment on his already wet-hair and damp skin. God knew I’d spent more than a few nights showering until my hot water ran out.
Unable to help myself, I tensed when he looked in the direction of my bathtub, but thankfully, he turned on the shower instead.
Reminding myself to take care of him, I batted his hand away when he reached for the body soap.
“You hold me, and I’ll take care of you.
” My words were so reminiscent of what I’d whisper to Demi as we bathed, but I pushed the memories back.
I squirted some soap into my hand, then got to work on his scalp.
He didn’t have a hint of stubble on his head, but I relished the opportunity to rub my hands over the smooth expanse of skin.
He groaned, eyes almost rolling back in his head as I started the message. I’d done this before, a lifetime ago, but the slow, rhythmic movements came back to me as if the years hadn’t passed.
I took my time, not about to be rushed, exploring every inch of his neck, shoulders, and arms. “Tell me about these tattoos.” I tapped his arm, my curiosity overrunning my mouth. Every other piece of ink was meaningless swirls, but the snake on his forearm and the joker on his bicep were clear.
He shrugged. “The artist picked them out. Besides, I think they fit the ‘biker persona,’ don’t you think?”
“You let the artist pick out something that would stay on your skin for the rest of your life?” I snorted before I could stop myself.
I sounded a bit judgmental, even though I didn’t mean to.
I couldn’t help rubbing my ring finger, where a hidden piece of ink I’d let Demi choose for me was unknown to anyone else in the world.
As if he’d read my mind, Xander raised my left hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I don’t know.” Humor lightened his dark blue eyes. “Sometimes letting someone else take control is the best solution.”
Taking that as a challenge, I wiggled until he let go of my legs, barely getting my balance before I pushed him under the spray, laughing as he sputtered.
Instead of letting him step forward again, I kept the pressure on his chest and crowded into him.
Another step had him pinned against the cold tile wall, the hot water running down my back.
His hands went to my body, but before they could wander, I took his wrists and drew them away from me, pinning them against the wall. “Uh-uh. My turn.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His smirk egged me on when my bravado would have failed me. Blindly grabbing for the bottle of body soap behind me, I dumped a healthy amount into my palms before going to work on his chest, teasing his nipples and tracing the lines of his abs until he shuddered.
The mood between us turned serious, despite the erection inches from my face when I kneeled down to wash his legs.
Kneeling, my head tilted all the way back so I could see him looking down at me.
It shouldn’t have made me feel so … empowered, but watching this man, his chest heaving, eyes blazing, staying so still because I’d told him to, made me feel like a goddess.
“Are you done?” His voice was a growl.
Reaching for the one part of him that I’d been ignoring, my lips curling in a smile when his growl turned into a groan. “Not even close.”