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Nicolla widened her eyes. “That’s how we met?” How friggin’ lame.
“Well, yes.”
“Then what happened?”
“I helped you clean up the mess. I found you very attractive, and we chatted for a long time.”
“Did you ask me out right away?”
“Yes, but you declined.”
“Why would I do that?”
Andrew scrutinised her for a moment. He was probably looking for evidence to see if she was faking all this. “You were working on a big case. You simply didn’t have time for romance.”
“That’s nuts. When did you actually get to ask me again, and we went on a date for the first time?”
“A year later, when w—”
“A year later?” Nicolla was appalled now. What was wrong with that chick? She had this soft-spoken, handsome hunk interested in her and it took her a year to play cat and mouse. “I’m sorry, hon. I’ve just realised how foolish I was taking you for granted for all these years. I was so blinded by my ambitions, I didn’t see what mattered the most.”
Something had sparked in Andrew’s eyes when she’d said that. Nicolla thought she had just hit what she was after. “That night, in McMillan’s kitchen, if we were able to turn back time and do it all over again, tell me what you would have liked to do when we first met.”
Andrew looked hesitant.
“Come on, I’m your wife. Don’t you think we’re beyond this formality?”
Her encouragement brought a smile to his face. “If I could turn back time”—he paused, as if contemplating the idea for a moment—“and I was able to do things differently, I’d very much like to kiss you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Show me,” Nicolla mouthed.
He sucked in a sharp inhalation at her plea. A heartbeat later, Nicolla found herself being swept off her feet and pinned between the cold steel of the refrigerator and the toned body of Andrew White. He groped her thighs, sliding her skirt upward. As soon as his hands claimed her hips, her feet left the floor. Andrew had lifted her body level with his. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hips were against his. His cock became hard in seconds. His mouth settled on hers, lips brushing. A tentative kiss. Innocently sweet. Nicolla murmured in encouragement. Andrew claimed her, kissing her hard. He swept his tongue over her palate and savagely nipped her bottom lip, rough enough to draw blood. She didn’t mind the abuse—she loved men with passion. Andrew panted—he looked like a man who had been denied carnal pleasures for too damn long, and now his hunger was demanding its fill.
She followed his lead, kissing him back with the same ferocity. Their kiss was a symphony of breathless gasps, growls and unsated longing. Wanton heat engulfed her. Her nipples hardened and familiar aches stirred from the centre of her sex. Her inner cat awakened and meowed. What is going on?
Nicolla remembered that Andi was clueless about Kelly’s true origin. She must be careful. If she accidentally shifted during the mating, Kelly’s secret would blow sky-high. Then it hit her. Could that be the main reason Kelly was so prudish? That she’d been reserved so she wouldn’t reveal her beastly nature?
“What’s wrong?” Andi noticed her frowning.
Nicolla was startled. “Nothing. Then what? What would you like to do after you kissed me?”
“I’m…” Andrew looked discouraged.
“Daddy Bear,” Nicolla purred, slipping a hand on his hard erection and giving him a nice, loving squeeze. “Tell me.”
Andrew whimpered. “I want you…”
“Yes?”
“To suck me…there.”
She laughed. God, this poor man probably hadn’t had a good blow for a long time. “Why didn’t you tell me so?”
The moment Andrew put her back on her feet, Nicolla pushed him against the kitchen counter. His eyes looked uncertain when she undid the clasp of his belt. And when she pulled his zipper down, Andrew caught her wrist. “I don’t want to force you.”
