13. DNA Technology #3
Before I could respond, Nakita’s stare sharpened. “You didn’t know?”
“It’s no big deal.” I shrugged, avoiding both Nakita’s and Andreas’s gazes. “Just once or twice. Probably because of stress at work.” I felt Andreas’s continued attention on my profile.
Damn it.
Something had to be done. I wasn’t certain what, or how to clear it with Andreas before doing it. There’d been a shift since that kiss in the restaurant, a new hyper-awareness—at least on my side. Now, I couldn’t bring myself to initiate contact with him again.
So, I did what any rational, fully grown adult plotting revenge would do: I devised a plan.
Step one: Get Nakita out of the living room, even if just for a few minutes.
Step two: Have a whispered strategy session with Andreas so we could agree on a baseline level of “believable PDA” for this situation.
Step three: Behave as a credible couple by the time Nakita returned.
It was a solid plan.
Now, what excuse can I give for our present awkwardness and what will get her to leave the room ... ?
“Uh, so.” I scratched my neck and did a passable job of looking self-deprecatingly embarrassed. “We came here sorta last minute without a plan. I know I didn’t clear it with anyone first, sorry about that.”
Her gaze moved between us. “Oh, that’s fine. Don’t worry about that.”
I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “To be honest, I told Andreas no one would be home.”
Nakita blinked and I was pleased to see a light of understanding in her eyes. “Oh, so you two thought you’d have the place to your?—”
“Sorry, that was inconsiderate of me. But since we’re here”—I put my hand on Andreas’s knee without looking at him and felt his thigh muscle flex at the contact—“do you mind if we stay?”
“Not at all!” Her attention flickered to where my hand sat on his leg then back to me. “Sorry if I ruined your plans.”
I waved her apology away. “Are you kidding? I’m the one in the wrong here. But, the thing is, for Andreas to spend the night, I need pajamas for him. Do you think Kendra’s boyfriend?—”
“Kendra has some of her boyfriend’s clothes in her bottom drawer,” she said, jumping up. “He’s about the same size as Andreas, right? Tall, but, like, not gym tall?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I stood too, twisting my fingers. “Do you think she has anything?”
“Sure! I’ll grab a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Is that okay?” Nakita was already backing up toward the bedroom she shared with Kendra.
“That should work, if you’re sure?—”
She disappeared down the hall, her voice calling back, “I’m sure! And I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!”
I plopped down on the sofa again and inspected Andreas. He didn’t look comfortable, but he also didn’t look uncomfortable. How did he do that?
Leaning in, I whispered harshly, “We’re not acting very engaged right now.”
Andreas sliced me a glare so sharp it could’ve cut a watermelon in half. “What do you want me to do?” he hissed through his teeth. “We have not yet discussed what PDA would be appropriate for this situation, and your conditions state?—”
I leaned closer, my nose almost bumping his. “Obviously, we’re going to have to improvise!”
His jaw flexed, and he said, low and tight, “I do not know where I am allowed to touch you.”
My brain ran through all the possible answers and hurriedly settled on the only one that wouldn’t lead to a lengthy negotiation.
“Touch me anywhere you want, okay? Just make it look real. Nakita is already suspicious, and if we want her to?—”
The sound of footsteps cut me off, and before I even realized what was happening, Andreas reached over, grabbed my arm, and hauled me across the couch. In one fluid, dizzying motion, he maneuvered me into his lap, spun me to face him, and anchored my hips down with an ironclad grip.
Suddenly, I was straddling Andreas Kristiansen on my own living room sofa, my knees on either side of his thighs, my hands braced against his shoulders, not a single second to spare a thought for how indecently high this position had pushed my dress up.
I froze. We both froze, gazes clashing. Then, his hands—one on my thigh, the other at the nape of my neck—pulled me forward.
He kissed me.
Not a peck. Not a gentle brush of lips. A full-on, open-mouthed, hungry, wet, and breathtaking kiss. His tongue sweeping inside me with a confidence that brooked no hesitation. I didn’t even tense for a nanosecond, instead immediately melting against him like a heat-activated polymer.
My arms wound around his neck, and my fingers tunneled into his hair.
I could feel him, between my spread legs, growing harder and longer, and my heartbeat jackhammered against my chest, which, incidentally, was now pressed flush to his.
I wondered if he could feel me, too. The tightness of my nipples and the wet heat between my legs just as obvious as his erection pressing into me.
Don’t do it. Don’t grind down. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t ? —
I did and it felt so fucking good, essential.
Andreas groaned, the sound a rumble reverberating from his chest to mine, his hand at my neck gripping harder.
The kiss was so hot, so electric, that it must’ve fried every synapse in my brain.
All the rules and boundaries and self-imposed restrictions evaporated.
The only thing that existed was the urgency of his mouth on mine and the strong, commanding grip of his hands on my thigh and neck, and how much my body needed?—
“Oh! Yikes! Gosh, sorry!”
At the sound of Nakita’s reentrance, Andreas pulled away slightly and dipped his chin to break the kiss. He pressed his forehead against mine and we shared a few ragged breaths before he swallowed, leaned to the side, and looked—or rather, glared—at Nakita.
“Pardon. We will move this elsewhere.”