52. Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Two
ANDREA
I’m woken by a knuckle gently tracing over my jaw.
I hum happily, not yet wanting to open my eyes.
A deep laugh has me cracking open an eye to find Julian staring down at me with amusement.
His head is propped on his hand, and he still wears sleep on his face as he continues to run featherlight touches over my skin.
“Merry Christmas, ma cerise,” he murmurs, leaning over to kiss my forehead. His lips are warm, and his words are delivered in a lovely gravelly tone.
I turn over onto my shoulder, smiling. “Merry Christmas, honey.” His eyes flare at the endearment and when his hand stops caressing me, I wiggle slightly. “Don’t stop, it feels good.”
He bites his lip, continuing with a grin on his face. Just when I’m about to doze off again, lips meet my shoulder. “Don’t you want your present?”
“Does it involve ten more minutes of sleep?” I ask, hopeful. That earns me a soft bite and I laugh, squirming away.
His arms wrap around my waist and in one swift movement, he’s pulling me to him. “You know I’d lie in this bed with you all day, but I want to spend time with you before the rest of the house wakes up and steals your attention. ”
“No one could ever take my attention from you,” I tell him, loving the idea of him wanting me all to himself. I run a hand through his soft hair. “It’s just not possible.”
“Yeah?” he asks, and I can see the sliver of uncertainty in his eyes.
I nod. “I like you an embarrassing amount. If you could peek into my mind and see how often you’re there, you’d think I’m crazy.” My eyes dance between his and everything inside of me becomes determined to make him understand just how much he means to me. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”
“Is that a promise?” he asks, turning his head to kiss the inside of my wrist.
“It is,” I say earnestly. “I wish I had all the right words to prove it to you.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he tells me softly, moving my hair behind my shoulder. “When you look at me like this, I believe you.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like I matter.”
“You do.” I press my lips to his. My intention is a quick kiss, but when I go to pull away, he holds me tighter against him.
It’s intimate and causes electricity to spark beneath my skin in all the right places.
It wakes me up better than any cup of coffee could.
“I want my present now,” I say in the middle of the kiss.
He flops onto his back with a groan, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. “Give me a second.”
Wondering what he means, my eyes wander down his torso and land on the bulge in his sweatpants. “I can help you with that,” I offer playfully.
His eyes pinch shut. “ Andrea .” The warning has zero bite to it .
“Afraid my parents will hear you yelling my name?” I jest and the next thing I know I’m flat on my back and Julian’s hovering over me, my legs spread beneath him as he presses his hardness against me. A whimper escapes me at the intoxicating friction.
“I’m trying to be respectful,” he says, even though I feel him harden more.
I roll my hips and his sharp intake of breath has me grinning. “What if I want you to disrespect me?”
“Fuck,” he rasps, staring down at where my hips continue to roll against him.
“Yes,” I tell him, digging my nails into his biceps. “Precisely.”
After a brief moment of consideration, his hand wraps around my panties, and he rips them off with one swift movement.
The sting on my skin bites into the pleasure and I’m kissing him wherever my mouth can reach.
Then he’s pushing down his sweatpants and sinking into me, filling the void I feel whenever we’re not like this.
“Always so wet for me,” he murmurs, his lips dragging up the column of my throat before biting my ear lobe.
“So goddamn perfect.” He pulls out slightly before thrusting back into me, and I can’t stop the moan that vibrates through me.
“Shh, you don’t want to wake the house up, do you?
” I shake my head and the corner of his mouth tilts upward. “Good girl.”
The next time he thrusts into me, he catches my moan with his mouth.
The speed builds to something more desperate.
His hands are made of sparks, setting my body on fire.
I find myself clinging to him with a fierceness I can’t begin to describe.
I want him everywhere on my skin and beneath it.
I want him all the time for the rest of time.
I know I’m not alone in this feeling when he looks at me like he’s been searching for me his entire life.
We grasp at each other, digging and digging and digging until we’re nothing but this—us.
We’re marked by the desperation of wanting to be understood and bruised by the exception of coming into contact with understanding.
His fingers and my nails leave reminders on our skin, the beautiful discovery of being exactly where we’re supposed to be.
It doesn’t matter how lost we were in the past. What matters is that right here, right now, we’re found.
When I come undone, he follows behind me as he whispers sweet words in my ear.
It’s thirty minutes after we’ve showered and dressed when he walks me over to the bed to sit. He kisses me twice; once on the cheek and then on my forehead. He goes to look through his bag on the dresser and pulls out a stack of stapled papers.
When he turns around, I see the faintest flash of doubt before handing it to me. He tucks my hair behind my ear and rubs my jaw with his thumb. “I hope it’s not too much.”
With downcast brows, I look down at the papers. My heart immediately starts pumping faster at what I find. I’m staring at a two-story floor plan and a contract. On the first floor is a large open space and on the second floor is an apartment.
“I don’t understand,” I breathe.
He crouches in front of me, his hands resting on my knees. “I’m not good with boundaries when it comes to the people I care about, so if I ever cross one, Andrea, I need you to tell me.”
I look up at him, wanting to be sure I understand. “What is this?”
His expression is as soft as his words are when he says, “The owner of the building next to my gallery sold it to me. ”
I blink a few times, my eyes wide. “Julian, did you buy me a building for Christmas?”
His hands slide up to my thighs, squeezing. “I was thinking we could turn the first floor into your ballet studio.”
We . He said we . Oh god, my heart.
“I know the apartment isn’t the best, but the location is great and Abigail knows a really good interior designer who can make it anything you want.
All you have to do is sign, and the building is yours entirely.
” He must read my stunned silence wrong, because he winces, pulling away.
“Fuck, it’s too much, isn’t it?” His hands go to his neck as he rests his back and head against the wall before sliding down to the floor; his face the picture of pure despair. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, no,” I say quickly, lifting myself off the bed and crawling into his lap. “Don’t be sorry.” His arms go around my waist instinctively and he’s pulling me closer. “It’s not that it’s too much, it’s just. . .it’s a lot to take in.”
He nuzzles my neck with his face, groaning in misery. “I just want to take care of you. Did I mess this up?”
I shake my head, skating my fingers through his hair. “No.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he whispers.
“I’m not lying.” I pull his head back so I can see his face when I tell him, “No one’s ever done something like this for me before.
No one has ever cared for me like you do.
I don’t know how to react, because I can’t put into words how much it means.
” My eyes fill with tears as I smile softly at him. “ Thank you .”
The agony lifts from his expression and he kisses me achingly slowly. I love you , the kiss seems to say.
Breaking away from him, I pull a face. “Now I wish I would have given you my gift first.”
He smiles fully. “Whatever it is, I love it already.”
I groan, dropping my head back. “You say that now, but—” My words fall off into a laugh when he tickles my sides.
“I love it already,” he states again, this time firmly. He eases off so I can stand to fetch the box hidden inside the nightstand drawer.
I cover my eyes with one hand and blindly extend the box to him. “Here, take it. I can’t look,” I say dramatically.
He chuckles as he stands and takes the box. I hear the tearing of paper and then nothing. The silence drags on so long that I drop my hand. He stares into the box, completely still.
My cheeks burn. “See, I knew I should have gone first.”
He shakes his head slowly. “No,” he croaks, taking the bracelet from the box before lifting his eyes to meet mine.
I swallow thickly as I pull up the sleeve of my sweater to show the matching purple and black beaded bracelet on my wrist. Mine has the initial J , and he has an A . “They’re friendship bracelets.” I laugh awkwardly at his frown.
“After our first kiss, you asked if we qualified for friendship bracelets,” he says, recalling the memory with a small smile on his face.
I nod and try not to grimace at myself as I push my sleeve back down. “It’s a terrible gift, isn’t it?”
“It isn’t,” he insists, sliding it onto his wrist carefully. “It’s perfect.” He holds out his arm to look at it. “I’m never taking it off.”
“You’re just saying that to appease me.”
“I’m not, I swear it,” he tells me, setting the box on the bed before coming to stand in front of me. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve always wanted one? ”
I give him a skeptical look. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” he rasps, his hands holding both sides of my face. I see it then—the unshielded hurt from his past sitting in his eyes. “But we’re more than friends.”
“I know,” I breathe, my hands bunching his shirt tightly.