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Chapter Nineteen
Hill wanted to pick up Andi and carry her into the bedroom like he was saving her from a fire, toss her onto the bed, strip her naked, and get back to making her gasp. But before he gave in to the instinct, he stopped himself. Even though he’d worked hard to keep his upper body strong, he couldn’t trust his balance to carry another person with his prosthesis yet. Dropping Andi on the way to the bedroom would be quite the buzzkill.
He could just imagine explaining to Ramsey how he’d ended up putting his date in the emergency room. That metaphor would be way too appropriate for the state of his sex life. So instead, he grabbed Andi’s hand and led her to his bedroom.
He switched on the overhead light by habit, but when the harsh light filled the room, his stomach clenched. He wanted to see all of Andi in full technicolor detail, but if things went well, he’d be getting naked, too. Even though Andi had assured him that she was attracted to him and his disability wasn’t an issue, anxiety and self-consciousness still crept up his spine. There was a reason Christina hadn’t slept with him after his accident, a reason she’d found someone else to go to bed with, and he couldn’t help but think the amputation had a lot to do with it. It was an unavoidable visual reminder that he wasn’t the same man he used to be.
Andi hadn’t known him before, but he didn’t want the spotlight on his disability. He didn’t want her thinking about anything but her own pleasure. Unfortunately, as he glanced around, all he saw were reminders of how he was different. His room was neat, but he hadn’t put certain things away. Like the crutches he kept by the bedside to use if he had to get up in the middle of the night. Or his running prosthesis, which was lying on the dresser. At least the wheelchair he sometimes used around the house when his muscles were aching was tucked away in the closet. Even so, he wished he could steer Andi back out and take a minute to put some things away.
“Wow,” Andi said, oblivious to the internal crisis he was having. “This is how clean you keep your room when you’re not expecting company? I thought boys’ rooms were supposed to be messy. Where are the half-empty beer cans and dirty underwear? The big bottle of lube? I feel cheated.”
Andi’s comment broke him out of his circling thoughts, startling him into a laugh. “The big bottle of lube?”
She looked over at him, amusement in her eyes, and he realized what she was doing. Somehow she’d sensed his discomfort over her seeing his personal space and was trying to distract him.This woman.
“I’m not an animal,” he said with a playfully affronted tone. “I keep the lube put away in a drawer like a gentleman.”
She laughed. “Well, aren’t you fancy.”
He walked over to the side of the bed and turned on the lamp before coming back and flipping off the overhead light. The softened lighting took the edge off some of his nerves and made Andi’s fair skin look like porcelain. He wanted to lick every bit of it.
He took her hand in his, trying to gauge how she was doing, and kissed the inside of her wrist. Her pulse jumped against his lips. When she’d told him her story in the WorkAround kitchen, he’d wanted to personally castrate the sick fuck who had used her and hurt her so badly. But he knew he couldn’t undo what she’d been through. All he could do was show her how different sex could be with someone she could trust. She’d told him it would be easier if he took control, was assertive instead of sweet, which he was one hundred percent down for. He’d always liked being bossy in bed, but he didn’t want to push her further than she wanted to go.
“Still with me?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
Andi’s gaze held his, her pupils dark in the low light, and she wet her lips. “Totally with you. Truly.”
Something tight unlocked in his shoulders at her assurance, and he leaned down to kiss her. She relaxed into the kiss, her hands splaying against his chest, and he took the opportunity to reach around her and unzip her dress. The sound of the zipper was loud in the quiet room, but it only made his cock harder. It was the sound of Andi’s trust.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he reached out and slipped her dress off her shoulders and down her arms. The light cotton fell into a cloud around her feet, leaving Andi standing there in his bedroom in a pale-pink lacy bra and nothing else.
His breath left him in a rush as he took in the sight of her. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
“Back at ya, neighbor.” Andi’s lips curved a little, and she reached back to unhook her bra. She let it fall away.
Her small, pert breasts made Hill’s tongue press to the roof of his mouth. He lifted his hand to cup her breast, running his thumb over her dusky nipple and loving the way she shivered at his touch.
“My turn,” she said, her fingers taking hold of the bottom edge of his T-shirt.
He lifted his arms and let her pull off his shirt. Cool air touched his overheated skin, and he watched her expression change as she took in the view. One of the things he liked so much about Andi was that she didn’t play it cool. She didn’t employ a poker face. She wore her feelings proudly, and right now, that look said she wanted him. That look made him forget to be self-conscious about the scars on his chest.
“I’ve had dirty dreams about you that started like this.” Andi tossed his T-shirt onto the floor and stepped fully into his space. “Ever since you opened your door that day without your shirt on.”
Her breasts pressed against his bare skin, and the feel of that silky feminine softness nearly did him in. He cupped her ass, fitting her against his erection. “Yeah? What happens next?”
Her fingers found the waistband of his jeans, making a little space between their bodies, and she unfastened the button. The zipper came down next and she tucked her hand inside his boxer briefs, the velvet touch of her hand wrapping around his cock making him shudder with need.
“You take off the rest of these clothes and show me how to make you feel good,” she said, sounding a little breathless. “You got to taste me. Seems only fair I get afforded the same opportunity.”
Show me. Taste me.He closed his eyes, a roll ofhell yesmoving through him. When he opened his eyes again, she was watching him, waiting. Part of him wanted to be the nice guy, tell her she didn’t need to do anything for him, having her in his bed was enough. But the way Andi was looking at him told him what he needed to know. She wouldn’t be asking if she didn’t want to try it. She wasn’t offering this as a favor. She said she wanted to torture him back. He wasn’t going to stop her.
He slipped her hand out of his pants and walked backward toward the foot of the bed. “I can do that.”
He sat on the edge and pulled off his shoes and socks. When he shifted to take off his jeans, it took an inner pep talk before he could go for it. But after a few seconds of mental gymnastics, he bit the bullet and pulled his jeans and underwear down his thighs and off, exposing the insistent state of his cock but also revealing his residual limb and prosthesis.
He looked up, bracing himself for Andi’s reaction. Her gaze tracked over him, gliding along his abdomen, lingering on his erection, and then continuing downward where his lower leg transitioned from flesh to mechanical device. Her attention glided back up to his face, her eyes unreadable, and she lowered herself to her knees. She braced her hands on his thighs and leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was long and deep, and he lost himself in it for a moment, his hand going to the back of her neck.
When she pulled back, she met his gaze. “I know this is hard for you, but you’re luscious. Every bit of you. I would pin your photo on my wall and draw hearts on it.”
