Page 17 of Claimed By my Fake Husband

How he bent me over the island and made me come. How he tasted me first, before anyone else ever had. How he explored every inch of me like he'd been starving for it.

Even now, driving to meet Andrew, I can still feel the ghost of his mouth on me.

I thought last night was a one-time thing. Now I'm sure of it—especially after sneaking out to meet a coworker behind Logan's back. He's going to be furious.

But I have to do this. I need to know what's happening with the case.

I'm a journalist. This is the biggest story of my life. I can't afford to be out of the loop.

Besides, it's just Andrew. Nothing's going to happen.

Five minutes, tops. I get the intel, I go home. Logan might never even know.

And then maybe you get a repeat kitchen encounter.

I clench my jaw at my own thought. I'm not some horn-dog. What is wrong with me? Did one orgasm really rewire my whole brain?

The answer comes fast and certain.

Yes. Yes, it did.

I pull up to the house Andrew described—dingy, sagging, exactly as grimy as I pictured. Abandoned, he'd said.

I cut the engine and pocket my keys. The street outside is dim, lit by a single flickering lamp. Meeting here in broad daylight would be risky enough. At night, it's worse.

In and out, Tess. Get what you need and go.

I climb the three steps to the door and knock out the code—not "Shave and a Haircut," but six taps to the beat of "We Will Rock You." Andrew's idea of clever.

Footsteps. The door swings open, and he waves me into the dark living room. The only light comes from the street outside and a bare bulb hanging in the kitchen.

"Alright, I dragged my ass out here. What'd you learn?"

Andrew circles behind me, then settles in front, back to the kitchen. I watch him carefully. I trust the guy—mostly—but something about this place has my skin crawling.

"You're in way over your head, cheesecake."

I roll my eyes at the nickname. Order the same thing at one holiday party and you're branded for life.

"Cut the dramatics, Andrew. I know exactly how dangerous the Cilentos are. That's why I want them locked up."

"They're moving, Tess." I go still. His face has gone serious. "Cilento's people are going door to door looking for you. Offering money for information. You get that?"

That stops me cold.

I knew there were threats. I didn't realize he'd actually gone hunting. I'm about to testify against the man—of course he wouldn't just sit back.

"Fine. I underestimated him. Doesn't change anything. I'm still testifying. Still publishing everything I've got, because the corruption goes deep, and I won't be bullied into silence."

"I really wish you hadn't said that."

Andrew's gaze drops to the floor. His shoulders are tight now, his weight shifting foot to foot.

Is he nervous? Does he think he'll take the fall for this too?

"Andy, you're not involved. They don't even know you exist. You're fine."

"Oh, they know exactly who I am."