AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Is that why we left Ella with Dad for the night?”
I nodded. Andrew had helped us adjust to life outside the shelter, to life out in the world. We’d developed a routine. Mr. Dixon cared for Ella while I worked on the food truck. Andrew and I cooked together most evenings. We took walks. We listened to music. We talked.
We were normal.
And although living together had been seamless, easy even, I was ready to try to take our relationship to the next level. To be intimate in a way I could only ever be with him.
To prove my point, I rolled on my toes and pressed my lips to his. He snaked his arms around me and held me tight.
Our movements became more frantic. With every kiss, he erased those of the many others. Where his hands slid under my shirt and up my back, there were now his caresses rather than the marks of strangers.
“Trish.” He pulled away, and I whimpered. “I want you too. I can’t do this. Not unless you’re completely sure.”
We’d been building toward this. Building toward the trust it took for true intimacy.
“I’m sure.” I worked the buttons of his shirt open; he covered my hand with his.
“We’re not in a rush.”
“Please.” My voice cracked in desperation. I needed him. “Can I touch you? Let me touch you.”
My hand hovered above the bulge in his pants. I could never touch another person without their consent. Never.
He groaned. “You’re making it really hard for me to be the good guy here.”
“I don’t want you to be. I need you to be the man who makes me forget everyone and everything else but him.”
He cupped my cheek. “If you change your mind at any time, say the word and I’ll stop.”
He had no idea the comfort he’d just given me. If I’d been hesitant before—which I hadn’t—I was completely sure now.
“You’ll take care of me,” I said softly.
“I will.” He sounded pleased. Wordlessly, he took my hand and positioned me in front of him. “Let’s go upstairs.”
He’d done it again.
He sensed that I needed control in all aspects of life, even down to letting me go first up the stairs.
To our room.
Andrew pressed a button on a panel just inside the door. A haunting melody that was unfamiliar filled the room, but it was perfect. Far better than the silence.
“It’s Missio,” he said against my ear.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Would it be terribly cheesy if I said no, that’s you?”
I smiled and relaxed against him. “Yes. But I like it.”
“Still good?” he asked as he brushed my hair off my neck. His lips hovered in the crook, warm breath sending awareness through me.
“Yes,” I whispered.
At the touch of his mouth on my skin, I closed my eyes and leaned back fully against him. He took both of my hands and rested our joined ones on my stomach.
“You smell like vanilla,” he rasped as he nibbled. “When I catch the slightest sent of fresh baked cookies or cake now, I think of you.”
