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“I got you something too.”
He lifts a brow as he finishes opening the front of my coat. “You did?”
I lift up the bag in my hand. “Lunch.”
His hands barely pause as he unwinds my scarf. “I don’t eat burgers and fries, Paisley.”
I shoot him a grin, feeling a little proud of myself. “I know.”
Andre pays attention to everything, and I’ve been trying to do the same.
I appreciate all he’s done for me and I want to return the favor. I might not be able to buy him expensive clothes and take him out to fancy dinners, but I can still show him I see who he is.
I pull the plastic clamshell container from the bag and hold it out. “That’s why I got you a salad.” I press my lips together as he stares down at it. “With double meat.”
So far I’ve only seen the man eat meat and vegetables.
Even when we went to Palermo’s he skipped the pasta and went straight for chicken and broccolini.
“I know it’s not fancy, but I didn’t want to come back empty-handed at lunchtime.” I start to ramble because he’s still staring at the salad, that strangely lost look back on his face. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. I just…”
His gaze lifts to mine. “You just, what?”
“I just…” I wasn’t expecting to have to explain the gesture and now I’m not sure I should.
Because it should just be a salad.
But it’s suddenly very clear to me it’s not.
“I wanted to do something nice for you.” I force the admission out and press my lips together.
Andre slowly takes the salad from me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I lift the milkshake I’m holding. “I need to take this to my mom.”
Andre snags the drink away, passing it off to Julian. “Take this to Miss Davis’s mother.”
His eyes stay on me as Julian takes the drink and disappears. As soon as he’s out of sight Andre grabs my hand and drags me into his office.
The door is barely closed before I’m pressed up against it, his body and his mouth on mine.
I always thought of losing my virginity like ripping off a band aid.
Or maybe scratching an itch.
Something that would be over quick and not really have any lingering effects.
But this itch doesn’t seem to scratch.
If anything, it gets worse.
I drop my food to the floor and latch onto him, pulling Andre closer as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, teasing me with a few light strokes before claiming it completely.
When he pulls away I scoff.
“Greedy girl.” He keeps me against him as he goes to his desk, nipping at my lips, but giving me none of what I really want.
Andre drops into his chair, dragging me onto his lap before opening the top drawer and pulling out a purple plastic container. “You need to start taking these.”
