* * *
Twenty minutes later, I slid my finished martini across the bar, and Andrew scooped it up and refilled it, then slid it back. He had a bar in his finished basement, a man-cave that must have taken years of curation.
This was like some roleplaying game. I thought he was going to fuck me as soon as I walked through the door—and I knew I would have let him—but he didn’t. He offered me a victory drink in his basement and didn’t come closer than a foot radius at any time. He hadn’t even accidentally brushed my hand once. He was playing the bartender; I was the patron. And the people we used to be, the people who had fucked each other, were just not involved.
I felt a little ache as I sipped at my second martini.
Maybe I’d been hoping he was going to grab my bun and rip it loose as soon as we crossed the threshold, like some kinky wedding night, but no dice.
“How many break-ins have there been?” Andrew wondered as he sipped at his own tall, amber glass of beer.
“Two,” I lied. “Or three.” I’m a terrible liar.
“In a month? Why aren’t the police watching your goddamn house? What good is that chump, Chet, if he can’t do anything to help?” A vein stood out on his temple and my heart softened. Andrew was sweet.
No, he’s not. He wasn’t sweet when he had Lola’s tits in his hands.
Good point.
“They say they’re not getting the alerts from my security system,” I explained. “I’m just going to get a new one when I can. On the bright side, though, you know, it’s just some teenagers or something, having a laugh. If they’re taking anything, it’s just little treasures that are personal to me. They’re not taking valuables.”
Andrew leaned his elbows on the bar and his massive paw of a hand spread across mine. “Doesn’t it alarm you that they’re taking little personal items of yours? That’s the kind of thing a psychopath does.”
I looked down at his warm hand on mine. “Um,” I said. If he wanted me to listen to him, he shouldn’t have touched me because now I couldn’t think about anything else. My head swam.
“Stay with me,” Andrew coaxed. “Stay with me until you get your new security system.”
“Andrew,” I chastised him, withdrawing my hand from beneath his and straightening my stance. “I can’t just move in with you. You know that.”
“Why not?”
“What would Lola think?” It fired out of my mouth and I couldn’t call it back—and did I want to? Didn’t I want to have this fight?
“Lola would think that it was a completely normal thing for a man and his girlfriend to do,” he explained, his tone mild and slow, like he was teaching me, not fighting with me. “She knows about you, Michelle. And—in spite of me—she’s let a couple boyfriends move into her house in the past, too.”
I furrowed my brow at him. “She knows about me? I’m not your girlfriend, Andrew. I’m your lawyer.”
His gray-green eyes darted away and he redirected his attention to his beer, idly running his fingers over that instead. “I know that. But when she first met you—at the wedding—I told her that you were my girlfriend.”
At mere mention of that horrible moment, my stomach rolled and I realized I desperately did not want to talk about it after all. I just didn’t want to be with him. That was all. It was too much, and I’d already said I didn’t want to go back to caring. Wasn’t that still true? Wasn’t it truer than ever? I just wanted to work. That was my life now and I loved it.
“Michelle,” Andrew said, and I felt the chilly kiss of his beer-frosted finger on my cheek. My eyes flashed up to his and held there. Every part of me was frozen except for my heart. I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe. But my heart was going like a drum pedal. “I was looking for you. That was why I was in the church. But Lola—she was jealous. She never acts like that. She never wanted me again after she had me. That’s who she is. But when she saw me with you—”
“She just had to have you again,” I said, “and you couldn’t resist her boobs.”
“I could easily resist,” he insisted, “but you walked out when I was pulling her top back up! She was the one coming on to me. You have to believe me. There’s nothing between her and me. I’ve been alone all month. Before I met you, I was alone for five years. And—if you’re really done with me—” His eyes searched mine, wincing beneath their thick brows. “—I’ll be alone for five more. Don’t you remember?” He passed his hand back and forth between us, indicating something passing in the space. “You said never. I said never, too. Never.”
God, he made me feel weak. My eyelashes drooped involuntarily, and I’m sure he interpreted that as a signal that I wanted to be kissed, even though I didn’t. I really didn’t. I needed to get out of here. I could walk. The fresh air would do me good.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and closed my eyes. Andrew’s rough lips brushed against mine and I took a step back. My eyelashes fluttered back open.
“You didn’t see it from my perspective,” I told him. I couldn’t kiss him. I couldn’t. He made a complete fool out of me; didn’t he get that? “It didn’t look like you were pulling her top up. It looked like you were caught.”
Andrew winced. “Okay. You’re right. It looked really bad, and there’s no way I can ever prove that my version of the events is correct.” He sighed and his hands clamped over mine, completely blanketing them. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I told him.
“Then fake it.” Andrew’s eyes crinkled in a genuine smile. “Fake it until you can trust me. Steal my phone and go through my texts when I’m in the shower. Open my mail while I’m at work. I don’t care. Do whatever you have to do, Michelle. I’m honest. I’m a good man.”
“No, you’re not,” I whispered. I was so sure of it. No one was good.
But he was already crowding into my space when I said it, and my neck loosened, bending back, allowing him to slither into my comfort zone. His hands were on mine. My body felt loose and weak. I knew it was going to be a matter of seconds until I gave up, and that only made me feel weaker. I let go.
“I am,” he whispered back, and his mouth descended onto mine, taking it hungrily and gently at the same time. I wanted to fight him but I couldn’t. I didn’t really want to fight him. I whimpered as his big hands scooped over my arms, setting off fireworks on every square inch that they touched, then rose to cradle my jaw and throat tenderly.
My panties grew damp. Quickly.
Our lips toyed over each other, half-kissing, as his hands skated higher and slid my chopsticks out of my bun.
“Take it out,” he growled against my open mouth. His hands grated over my back and down to my ass, clutching hard, like he was trying to mold clay. I obeyed. I yanked the pins and elastic out of my hair and let them fall. They may as well have disappeared. My hair came down around my shoulders and Andrew moaned in appreciation, burying one hand in my hair and yanking my head to the side, exposing my throat, arching my breasts. He kissed deeply into the muscle of my neck, almost massaging me with his mouth, and slowly dropped to his knees.
My capacity for remorse was obliterated. His hands slowly worked their way up my skirt, trapped against a black spandex and cotton blend as they crawled. He nipped at my pussy through my skirt and I laughed. His mouth was smeared with my lipstick now.
“Fuck yeah,” Andrew growled, wedging his hand between my thighs and rubbing into my pussy through the nylon of my panty hose. “No panties. Someone was feeling bold this morning.”
“I knew I was going to see you,” I breathed, dizzy now. Electricity seemed to jut from his fingertips and into me.
“You’re lucky you made it out of the courtroom unfucked,” Andrew replied. My panty hose came down in one swift yank and he grunted with satisfaction, sending his hand back up my skirt, sinking two fingers between my sopping lips. My knees buckled and I leaned on his shoulder and on the hand pumping into me for support. His fingers were vigorous, tireless, and I was shocked at the intense heat expanding in my nether region. He was making me come with two fingers, no clitoris play, in a matter of seconds. Impossible. “I missed you so bad,” he said, working me hard. “You’re always so wet for me, Michelle. Always so wet under your little skirts.”
“Oh, Andrew....” I shuddered and balled up against him, pussy clenching and drenching his hand as I came in a startling wave. It only lasted about five seconds, like a miniature earthquake, and when it was over, I pulled myself up straight and gazed around the room like some furniture might be knocked over.
“That’s it,” Andrew grumbled, pulling his hand out of my skirt. He seemed almost angry as he stood, glaring me down hotly. His hands went to the buttons on his white dress shirt and he worked quickly to flick them open, one by one exposing his immaculate chest. “Take off your dress. Now,” he commanded. The dress shirt hung open and he whipped it off and threw it to the ground. His pants unzipped and unbuckled next, sliding down his powerful thighs, into a puddle on the floor. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his staff stood fully in the air, hard and dark.
God, I missed him, too.