By the time he’d followed my trail of breadcrumbs and saw my underwear on the floor, he knew I was naked under the covers. “Which side do you prefer?” I asked.
His pupils were blown, his lips were parted, and his breaths were sharp. And there was a very prominent bulge in his pants. Without a word, he pulled his shirt off, then undid his pants, and slid them down his thighs to reveal his glorious cock. I flipped the covers back in silent invitation and he hesitated for a brief second.
“Don’t worry about your sheets,” I told him. “I promise I won’t spill a drop.”
He moaned gruffly and knelt on the bed. “It’s not that,” he said quietly. “I just like how you look in my bed.”
I slid over and wrapped my hands around the backs of his thighs and took him into my mouth. And for the third time that day, we brought each other to climax.
Afterwards, when we were all wrapped up in each other’s arms on what could possibly be the world’s most comfortable bed, I napped like the dead.
CHAPTER FOUR
I woke up alone. It took me a second to realise I was in Andrew’s room, but his side of the bed was empty. Disappointment slithered through me like a snake, but then I heard it.
He was playing his piano.
My clothes were in a half-folded pile at the end of the bed, and I smiled knowing he’d put them there for me. Such a simple, yet thoughtful gesture. It was ridiculous how happy that made me.
After getting dressed I used his bathroom, washed my hands then my face, squirted some toothpaste onto my finger, and did my best to clean up before going back downstairs. I didn’t want to miss him playing.
He was still at his piano and he smiled as I walked over to lean against it. Without missing a beat, the song he was playing changed into something more funky and upbeat. It was some jazz number he knew by heart, and I couldn’t help but smile as he played.
When that song was over, he took his hands from the keys. “Slept well?”
“Best nap ever,” I told him. I nodded toward the piano keys. “Don’t stop playing.”
He gave me that eye-crinkling kind of smile and played a song that was more classical than jazz. Some grand concerto piece that I’m sure he played just to impress me. It worked. Though in all seriousness, he could play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” and I’d be impressed, but this was amazing.
This time when the song was over, the notes morphed into some random piece that was almost comical. And from the smile on his face, I wondered if it was from some cartoon I’d never seen, or if it was a musical extension of how happy he was in that moment. Because right then and there, standing in his living room, I knew there was no going back.
Not for me anyway.
I think he won a tiny piece of my heart that day. If he didn’t have the whole damn thing before then, he certainly had part of it now.
I couldn’t help myself. I strode over to him, took his face in my hands, and tilted his head back so I could kiss him. It made his fingers miss the keys, and he laughed into my mouth.
“You are something special, you know that?”
He hummed his answer. “Mmm, minty.”
“I borrowed some toothpaste. Hope you don’t mind.” Before he could wonder if I was gross and used his toothbrush, I held up my finger. “I just kind of used my finger. Not great, but better than nothing.”
“I can get you a toothbrush,” he said. “I’m sure I have a pack of spares here.”
I put my hand up in a stop. “Slow, remember? I think exchanging toothbrushes might be a little premature.”
He frowned and nodded. “Okay, sure.”
It was then that I noticed the light outside, or lack thereof. “What time is it?” I asked, pulling out my phone. It was after six. “Jeez, I better get going home.”
Andrew slowly stood up from his piano stool. “I’ll drive you.”
“I’m sure I can bus it.”
“It’s no problem. I need to grab some things from the store anyway. I’m a good boy and pack a lunch every day—I can’t cook, but I can make a sandwich. I normally go in the morning, but my weekend was kind of thrown all out of whack.”
I smiled at him. “In a bad way?”
“The very opposite of bad.” He put his hand on my arm as he walked past. “I’ll just grab your laundry.” He came back out with everything washed and dried and neatly folded.
“What? You didn’t iron them?”
He balked. “I’m not your maid.”
I laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m just kidding. I’m very grateful that you even offered for me to do this here.”
He sighed deeply. “You’re welcome.”
“Oh, before I forget, where’s your phone?”
He cautiously pulled it from his pocket. “Here, why?”
“We need to add another photo to your Facebook.”
“Oh.” His cheeks tinted with that delicious pink. “Right.”
“Is that okay?”