‘Complicated,’ he echoed on an equally long sigh.
We lay in silence again, looking up at that stupid fan together. I think my mind was whirling as much as the fan was. ‘What about heavy petting?’
‘WHAT!’ Andrew burst out laughing, and then the whole bed moved as he got up on his elbows and looked down at me. ‘Did you just say “heavy petting”?’
‘What would you like me to call it?’ I tilted my face towards his.
‘Not “heavy petting”.’
‘Fondling?’
‘That sounds even worse!’
‘Stroking?’
‘Oh my God, stop. Please. They get worse and worse each time you open your mouth,’ he said on a chuckle.
‘Sorry,’ I whispered into the silence that had fallen over us when his laughter tapered off.
‘So . . . um, hypothetically, of course.’ Andrew’s voice was low and sexy as hell. ‘What would this proposed petting involve? Hypothetically, again. Not really.’
This time I sought his eyes out. And once I had them, I held on to them. ‘I don’t know, some touching.’
‘Touching where?’
I brought my hand to my face and ran it over my cheek. ‘Here.’ I traced my hand down my neck and across my collar bones. ‘Here.’ I dragged my hand down my chest slowly. I hesitated for a moment, letting his eyes catch up to my hand before I ran my fingers over my breast. Slowly. My nipple hardened against my T-shirt and I traced its outline. ‘Maybe here,’ I whispered. I ran my hand down my stomach and paused when I reached my sleep shorts. I paused at the elastic and watched him. His jaw clenched. His eyes were fixated on the spot between my legs, so I parted them a little. His response was instant, a rapid inhalation of breath. Then I slipped my hand into my shorts. It felt good and I jerked at my own touch.
‘Fuck, Pippa,’ Andrew growled next to me. ‘What are you doing to me?’
‘I thought that would be obvious by now,’ I said, sliding my fingers over myself. I gasped.
Andrew moved closer to me. ‘Keep doing that,’ he whispered, eyes still watching my hand as it moved under my shorts, my fingers finding all the places I liked to be touched.
‘We don’t even have to touch each other,’ I said, and looked down at Andrew’s hand, trying to convey my meaning. My eyes moved from his hand to his shorts. He was clearly hard. That much wasveryobvious. His eyes widened and, for a second there, I worried that my suggestion was too unconventional for him, but clearly not. He lowered his hand and slipped it into his shorts. I watched, fascinated, and more turned on than I’d ever been in my life before as he pumped his hand up and down under his shorts, his eyes still fully locked to my hand as I increased my own speed and pressure. This was the hottest thing I had ever done in my life! It was hotter than sex, so, so much hotter!
And then I think we lost ourselves. At least I know that I did. I didn’t feel like I was a part of the bed any more, but floating above it, riding an invisible wave of pleasure, made even better by the fact that Andrew was moaning next to me. I matched mine with his, until we were perfectly in tune with each other. Like two instruments in an orchestra, playing the same melody in the same key and sounding like perfection. Not once did I stop to think about what we were actually doing. Instead I just went with what my body was telling me Ineededto do. My moans turned to panting. The pants came out short, sharp and clipped.
‘Jesus, that’s so fucking sexy,’ Andrew said, his words only spurring me on, and with one last move, I came. The intensity surprised me. I grabbed the bedsheet in an attempt to steady myself as my legs shook and my stomach contracted. Andrew’s moans were getting louder now too. I watched him. His eyes were closed, but as if he’d sensed me, he opened them and looked straight at me while he came. It was the most intimate moment of my life.
CHAPTER41
I sat on the toilet, cleaning myself up in shock. I couldn’t believe we’d just done that. If sex made things awkward, then surely mutual masturbation made things just as awkward, if not more so. I washed my hands thoroughly and splashed water on my face. What had I been thinking? The answer to that very rhetorical question was of course that I hadnotbeen thinking. We’d just shared something with each other that was usually intensely private. We’d laid ourselves bare in the most vulnerable way possible.How the hell was I going to look him in the eye again?
I walked back into the bedroom, hoping he’d turned the lights off. He hadn’t. He was sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard in what looked like a pose that signified he was waiting for me.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘Mmmhmmm,’ I mumbled. It did not sound convincing.
‘What happened—’ he started, but ended abruptly.
‘Sorry, it was my suggestion, I was, I don’t know, caught up in a moment, or whatever. Something.’That was articulate!I mentally chided myself for that lack of fluency.
‘You might have suggested it, but I was averywilling participant.’
‘I could see that!’ I said, loosening up slightly when it was obvious that Andrew wasn’t feeling as awkward as I was.
‘I’ve never . . . with anyone. That was a first for me,’ I said quietly.
