Chapter 21
“I never had a doubt.” He smiled warmly at her.
“Well, that makes one of us.”
“See, you need to have more confidence in yourself.”
“It was catching a piece of sausage, not making life choices.”
“That’s where it starts. Putting yourself out there. Willing to try.”
Willing to try. Andrea set the sausage down and moved on to the peppers. She had been trying more here lately. Going out of her comfort zone. She thought it would be bad, scary, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.
“Why won’t you let anyone know who you really are? This snarky woman,” he waved his hand over her person, “is just a front to keep people away.”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Michael reared back, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean?”
“You’re easygoing attitude and nothing fazes you is your armor just as much as my bitchiness is.” Did he not think she’d noticed he did the same thing she did. Took a hider to know one.
“No it’s not,” he denied and avoided her gaze.
“You can honestly say you are always so upbeat and nothing bothers you?” Andrea didn’t believe that for a second. No one was that happy all the time.
“I’ve always been a pretty upbeat guy, yes.”
“I get that, but there’s upbeat, and then there’s playing happy to hide your pain behind humor.”
Michael opened his mouth no doubt to deny it again, but nothing came out. She could see the war behind his eyes. What to say and not to. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no sense crying over spilled milk.”
“When you can just clean it up and move on.” Yeah, they were more alike than she cared to admit. Both hiding who they were.
“Exactly. So it’s easier to accept things as they are and move on.”
“So you didn’t get angry about your scars?”
“Angry? No. Upset that my beautiful face was marred, yes, but women seemed to take pity on me, so I got over it.”
Andrea shook her head. “Are you ever serious?”
“From time to time, but I’d rather have fun, like now.”
“This is fun to you?” Making pizza from scratch and making a mess? There wasn’t any space left on the counter from all the toppings, and the counter and parts of the floor were covered in flour.
Micheal gave her a side glance. “Yes, aren’t you having fun?”
“No,” she replied, but he could no doubt see the answer in her eyes. She was, Andrea just didn’t want to admit it.
“Liar.” He called her out on her bluff.
Andrea looked affronted. “Well, I was until you started asking questions.” She didn’t like talking about herself ever. “Besides, how would you know if I was lying or not?”
“Your body is all the answer I need.”
“Oh really?” Andrea propped her hands on her hips, looking at him in disbelief.
“Uh huh, you know what else it says?”
“What?” This ought to be good.
Michael put their pizzas in the oven and looked down at her, his gaze fixated on her mouth. “You want me to kiss you.”
She did. “No, I don’t.” She really did. She’d been denied earlier at the rain forest. She’d been denied on their date she’d called a dinner.
The man had the most kissable lips. It didn’t matter that he had probably used them on half of the female population of the world.
She wanted to know what they felt like. It had been ages since she had been intimate with a man.
Urges she’d long thought dead and gone were surfacing.
Her gaze fell to his lips. They were right in front of her.
All she had to do was raise up on her tiptoes, and she could kiss him and appease her curiosity.
No, she had to resist. To keep her distance.
She didn’t want to feel anything but contempt toward Michael.
“You know, I have ways to make you tell me the truth.”
“Torture?” That didn’t sound pleasant. What would beating her prove?
“Hmmm,” he purred. “Chains and hot wax.”
“Not my thing.” But it sounded hot. Well, the chains part not the hot wax.
She had never been much of an adventurous lover.
She was a Plain Jane missionary girl. No frills or excitement.
But to be restrained and at this man’s mercy…
that was an intriguing and terrifying thought.
She recalled being blindfolded and at his mercy. That hadn’t been so bad.
No, don’t think about that, she scolded herself. Remember you don’t like him. He asks invasive questions. But he made her feel again.
“And what is your thing?”
“Not BDSM.”
“There’s pain, and there’s pleasure-pain.”
“If you say so.” Andrea squirmed, feeling moisture pool between her legs and her nipples pebble.
“Shall I show you pleasure-pain?”
“I’ll pass,” she said, moving around the kitchen and starting to clean up. Anything to keep a distance between them.
“Are you sure?” he asked, following right behind her.
“Pretty sure,” she replied casually.
“That doesn’t sound convincing. I think you’re intrigued but don’t want to admit it.”
“I think we should focus on the pizzas,” she countered, needing to change the subject.
“They’re in the oven. We have time.”
“I don’t want mine to burn.”
“You don’t have to be afraid.” He lightly touched her on her arm. It felt like a hot iron brand; she felt it deep inside.
Andrea turned away from him. “I’m afraid of nothing.” Liar. She was scared of everything, especially him and the feelings he was evoking in her. She had never felt for another as she did for him.
Michael leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “All you have to say is no, and I’ll stop.”
“No?” That was it?
“Anything you don’t like, or it gets too much, just say no. You have all the control.” His hand on her arm slowly slid down toward her wrist, raising goosebumps in its wake.
“No matter how far we get into things?” She didn’t know why she was contemplating this. Being friends was already complicating her life. Kissing would lead to other things and even more complication.
“No matter how far. I could be about to thrust my cock inside of you or already balls deep. You just say no, and I’ll stop.”
Andrea turned around to face him. “Why not just say stop? Why no?”
Michael’s eyes softened, and his hand came up, hovering just an inch from her cheek. She felt the heat from his palm, but he never touched her. “Because sometimes a lover says stop when they mean don’t stop. No is much clearer. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Michael sealed his lips over hers. Andrea closed her eyes and gave herself over to the pleasure. Not that she had agreed to his kiss. She had agreed with his statement, but she wasn’t going to complain. The kiss crashed over her like a tidal wave drowning her and reviving her at the same time.
It made her feel lightheaded and breathless. It was too much. She opened her mouth to take in a breath, but Michael stole the opportunity and drove his tongue inside. Stroking along hers.
She felt him moan against her mouth as his hands snaked through her hair, holding both sides of her face still as he took control of the kiss. He turned them so her back pressed against the counter.
“Stop,” she whispered, tearing her mouth from his to take in a lungful of air.
“Ah, you know that’s not the magic word,” he murmured, moving his kisses to her cheek then to the side of her neck as he pressed his pelvis against hers, trapping her against the cabinets.
“Don’t…” Andrea rolled her head back, hitting the back of it on the upper cabinets, granting him better access. She liked having this control. She could pretend to still put up her front while giving into temptation.
If only they were doing this in her kitchen instead of his. There would be more room to maneuver around.
“Not even close.” He smiled against her skin before taking her earlobe between his teeth and tugging.
“Wait,” she groaned.
“Wrong answer if you want me to stop.”
“Please…” Her hands raked over his cloth-covered chest, needing to feel bare skin.
“I like hearing you beg.” Michael’s left hand slid down her face, over her collarbone, and settled over her breast. Cupping it and kneading it much as she had seen him do with the pizza dough. “Damn, I’ve been dreaming about these beauties.” His voice was low and husky.
He pulled back slightly. “May I?” His hands lowered to the hem of her shirt. He paused, his eyes on her, waiting for her to give the green light.
This was her chance to tell him no and end everything right here and now before it went too far.
They hadn’t passed the point of no return, though if they stopped now, their friendship was already tarnished.
She would always know what his kisses felt like.
His tongue stroking hers. The feel of his hard erection grinding against her pelvis.
“Your choice, Andrea. Say the word and this ends.” He reminded her that she had the control.
“Yes…” Her voice came out a whisper, but Michael heard her nonetheless.
Andrea expected Michael to rip her shirt over her head. Instead, he raised it slowly. Molasses moved faster than he was going. His eyes watched his movements, heating more and more with every inch of skin he revealed until finally her shirt was over her breasts then clear of her head.
His eyes stayed fixed on her breasts. He was practically salivating, staring at them. She looked down to see the fascination but wasn’t getting it. They were medium-size, definitely not porn star worthy.
Michael’s index finger glided along the edge of her bra before hooking it and dropping the cups before her breasts.
He lowered his head slowly, just as slow as removing her shirt, before his mouth hovered over her right nipple. She could feel his hot breath on it, causing it to tighten. Her whole body felt like it was tight, about to break. The anticipation was killing her.
He had been quick to kiss her, and now he was going Miss Daisy speed. Finally, his tongue darted out and swiped over her then latched on. His other hand came up and massaged her other breast.