Our pants are off seconds later and I have her spread on my high school bed. If I’d known back then there’d one day be a girl as hot as Andi in my bed, I probably never would’ve left my mattress.
Back in high school, I was quieter, a background player. The looks, the girls, the money came later in life, once I matured in college. It would’ve blown my high-school mind to learn I’d be here now, like this, with her.
She lays sprawled on the bed, her hair in waves around my pillow. Somewhere along the way on our journey home, the thing holding her hair in place got lost, and thank God for that. She looks striking like this, her hair loose and free.
I move over her, holding myself up with one arm while I tease along her panty line with the other hand. I can feel through the fabric that she’s ready; I can smell her, and I need to touch her.
The moan that comes from her throat as I slip my finger past the fabric sends a surge of desire pulsing through my veins. I lower myself onto her, just barely brushing skin to skin, needing to feel our naked bodies touch.
She holds me tighter, closer, arching her hips to meet my fingers. Judging by the sounds she’s making, she’s close already. Her hips buck higher.
“Baby…” I say, and then I feel her clench around my fingers.
I swallow my words, too intent on watching the wave of pleasure wash over her face as she spirals into me, her fingers tearing at my back, my hair, my skin, my—
Suddenly, everything is wrong, and both Andi and I realize it at the exact same moment.
Footsteps.
Right outside my bedroom door.
The handle is opening, we’re scrambling to get decent, the door is swinging open.
“No,” Andi murmurs, diving for covers. “Oh no.”
Lawrence strides right through the doorway without bothering to think. He’s engrossed in looking at the screen of his phone while I’m shoving blankets around Andi left and right.
“Asshole!” I yell at him. “Get out.”
“Crap!” Andi’s scrambling to pull the comforter over her face, and I’m scooping pillows on top of her for some reason. I don’t even know why; I’m just trying to protect her from my dickhead brother.
“God, Ryan!” Lawrence covers his eyes with his hand and backs out of the room as quickly as he entered. “You can’t wait two damn seconds to take your pants off?”
“What the hell happened to knocking?” I stand up and check myself out briefly in the mirror to make sure I’m not flashing my brother. I have my jeans on, my face is red, and my hair is mussed. I probably have scratches down my back, but I don’t care. Once I’m sure Andi’s covered, I pull the door open a hair. “What did you think you were doing? Didn’t we have this conversation about knocking in like, the fifth fucking grade?”
“I just came to say hi to your friend,” Lawrence said. “I yelled up the stairs, figured you didn’t hear me.”
“Of course we didn’t hear you. We were occupied.”
“I see that now.”
I run a hand over my face. I don’t really care all that much, except Andi seems mortified. Any other girl, and it wouldn’t have been a big deal—bunnies tend to like that sort of attention—but Andi isn’t a bunny; she is the polar opposite.
Lawrence gives me a little smirk and a thumbs up, his dickhole personality returning. “I suppose I’ll leave you two alone to finish what you started.”
“Go away.”
I slam the door shut and turn to face Andi. She’s sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up to her chest. She’s doing a magnificent job of pretending she’s not bothered.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I should’ve known—”
“It was an accident,” she says with a wave of her hand. Her nonchalance belies the reddish tinge around her neck. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I should’ve locked the door.”
“I said don’t worry about it.” She shrugs. “I’m a big girl. If I say I’m fine, I mean it. The only problem I see is that, once again, you made me feel quite excellent, and you didn’t get the chance to finish.”
“How are you still single?” I ask, moving across the room. “I could marry you tomorrow, Andi.” I’m half kidding, but she seems unsure of whether or not it’s a joke. “Relax,” I tell her. “Kidding.”
“I knew that,” she says. “Anyway, why don’t you lock the door, get over here, and take your pants off?”
“About that marriage proposal,” I say, letting my hand cup her cheek as I swoop in for a kiss. “Maybe I’m not kidding.”
She nips my lip. “Sounds good to me.”
I clear my throat. We’re in dangerous territory.
“I’m kidding,” she says. “Relax.”
“Me too,” I say, the tension easing. “But really, we can wait. There’s plenty of time tonight.”
“Is there?” She lets the covers fall from around her shoulders, exposing silky white breasts in a lacy purple bra. One strap has slid down her shoulder. “Are you sure?”
I reach for her strap, bringing it to the correct position on her shoulder. It’s a trap—her hand snakes out, snaps at the waistband of my jeans, and instantly I’m ready.
“You sneak,” I say, looking down.
“I thought he might feel differently,” she says, nodding toward my crotch. “What do you say we head back to the bed?”
“How can I resist an offer like that?”
She leans backward, spread like a beautiful, exquisite platter before me, filled with all the delicacies of the world. I start to follow her, drawn toward her figure, when she raises a finger and shakes it at me.
I panic. “What? Everything okay?”
“Lock the damn door, Pierce!”
I can’t help but laugh. I shouldn’t be surprised; she makes me laugh more than anyone else. I make quick work of the lock then join her in bed.
“I’ve missed this,” she says, pushing me back against the pillows. Her lips trail down past my ribs to the sensitive edges of my abs then approach the score zone near the rim of my pants. She teases the zipper down, and then, with a devilish look, frees me from my boxers.
I hiss and close my eyes as she takes me into her mouth. “Andi, baby—”
“I’m home!” a shrill voice yells up the stairs. “Anyone else home? Ryan, is that your car outside? Do you have a friend over?”
“Goddammit!” I bite out. “Not now.”
“Who…” Andi murmurs, then falls silent as the voice continues to pierce the air.
“Lawrence, is that you making all that racket?” my mother yells from the hallway. “You know how I feel about cursing when you’re in this house. Is your brother home with his friend yet? I don’t want her first impression to be a houseful of boys with filthy mouths.”
I shake my head, my jaw tense as Andi slowly sits up. “I’m so sorry.”
Andi has this look on her face that’s halfway between disappointment and amusement. Then, the sound of footsteps on stairs reaches our ears, and we simultaneously scramble to pull ourselves into some semblance of presentable attire.